Tags
blogging101, Creative Writing, Family, Journaling, Memories & Reflections, Writing 101, Writing Prompts
Life leaves room for a lot of wonderful memories and a lot of heart-breaking regrets. If I had to choose one moment of my life to return to, it would be a conversation I had with my mother in the waiting room of the hospital where my dad passed away.
Dad was dying from congestive heart failure because his kidneys were failing to keep ahead of the water that was surrounding his heart. The doctors’ “Hail Mary” play was to try Continuous Ambulatory Peritoneal Dialysis (CAPD). This is the only type of peritoneal dialysis that is done without machines. You do this yourself, usually four or five times a day at home and/or at work.
Despite dad’s weakened condition, my sister, brother, and I were so excited that there might still be a chance to turn things around for dad, and dad, himself, had indicated through a note that he wished to give it a shot. But my mom was totally against it.
We argued with her in the waiting room, and at one point I asked her how she could say she loved him if she was willing to let him die. At that point she just shut down and we never talked about it again. Before the doctors could try the CAPD, my dad lapsed into a coma with his earphones on listening to his band. He never woke up.
My mom passed away 18 months later. She couldn’t function without my dad. In the end I think she just died of a broken heart. I found her one morning. She’d passed away in her sleep for which I was very grateful.
But during a subsequent counseling visit with a grief counselor we revisited that conversation in the waiting room and I had the biggest epiphany of my life. It wasn’t that my mom didn’t love my dad. It was that she DID. And that’s why she was willing to let him go and be at peace. It really made me question what love really is.
So if I could return to one moment in my life armed with the understanding I have of love now, it would be to that day in the waiting room where I’d have to tell mom I understood. It has pained me ever since that I never got the chance to tell her she exemplified for my siblings and for me what it means to really love someone and have their best interest at heart. I would give anything to be able to tell her she was my hero in that moment…
* * * * *
DAILY PROMPT: If I Could Turn Back Time
If you could return to the past to relive a part of your life, either to experience the wonderful bits again, or to do something over, which part of you life would you return to? Why?
`
Picture Credits:
peritoneal dialysis — www.kidneyfund.org
waiting room — www.flickr.com
Impromptu Promptlings 
I was very touched my this post. My dad passed away two years ago after suffering with Alzheimer’s for 4 years. For us, it was a huge relief as we saw dad become only a shell of the man he had been. My once proud father would have cringed to learn of some of his bizarre behavior. My mom who put up with a lot of lets just call it “stuff” in their almost 65 years of marriage, is still grieving his death. Death hits all of us differently, none as powerfully as the spouse. It is interesting how your mother just wanted him free of the pain and just free. And you are right, that is love. Sometimes, we just want to hang onto what we know. When setting them free is the best and highest form of love. So glad, He saw you through that time and gave you the understanding as you were able to work through your grief.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was a very hard and humbling lesson to learn. And even though I have a better handle on now, a lifetime of grasping is hard to change. But I’m working on it. 🙂 It’s hard to watch them go, isn’t it… It will be hard with your mom, too, I imagine.
LikeLike
No too soft.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I just discovered all these comments on this post. I didn’t know they were here. So what did you mean by “No too soft,” Anna?
LikeLike
Hi, Hmmn, Life does happen sometimes and leave us hollow and broken. Your post brought back memories that make me sober. Learning to be strong in the face of adversity and moving on is the only way. Stay blessed. Warm regards from the blogging 101 course. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for your comment. I apologize for my delayed response. I just found a whole bunch of comments I didn’t know where here! I hope you’re having fun in the blogging 101 course!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome! No need to apologize for delayed response! It’s been a rewarding experience with blogging 101, have acquired some new skills while building new connections in the blogosphere. Thanks. Do have a great week ahead. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I loved B101. It came along at just the perfect time for me while I was still getting my feet wet. They do a great job with it.
LikeLike
Such a great concept from WP! A great help to Bloggers especially the Newbies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very moving – thank you for sharing. The wisdom of motherhood is that you know that even if your children don’t understand today, they will one day. Be at peace – your mother never held this against you. She knew you’d understand one day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for your encouraging comment. I appreciate it. And I apologize for the delay in a response. I just found all these comments on this post. I didn’t realize they were here. Have a great weekend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No problem… I hope all the comments were a pleasantly uplifting surprise.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh you really have me in tears with this one. I think you and I both had complicated relationships with our Mothers. It’s very good to reflect and come to this understanding now. Side note: my brother tried the peritoneal dialysis and did nothing but suffer from infections and other issues of discomfort. Your mom made the right decision. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Shannon. That’s a comfort. They never actually got a chance to try it anyway. Dad lapsed into a comma and never woke up. I had to fly back home (he was in Arizona, I am in Utah) and was in the hospital the day he died. I hated not being there. I wasn’t there for either one of them…
LikeLike
And sorry that response is so late. I didn’t get notifications of comments on this blog post. There were several! 😦
LikeLike
Life’s lessons. The most painful, the deepest learning. Brought back memories of my own mother. She was not a well woman most of her life what with one thing and another. In the end, she had a massive stroke. I had the dilemma of deciding whether to fly the 2000+km’s only to have to return home again as the drs could not tell us how long or if she may live. Over several days it became evident she was slowly deteriorating. I flew up and went straight to the hospital from the airport at midnight. We then spent the next three days sitting by her bedside watching her becoming more and more physically distressed. She never regained consciousness throughout all this. My brother in law was convinced she had hung on waiting for me. One day when on my own, she took a sudden turn for the worse. I remember holding her hand, giving her a hug and telling her that perhaps it was now time to go home. That’s what she had always called it. She died peacefully that night with all of us at her bedside.
LikeLiked by 1 person
They do wait, don’t they, Raili… My dad waited for all three of us to get to Arizona. Sorry this is such a late response. I didn’t know there were comments on here. Thinking I need to be checking other blogs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s Ok – it’s time consuming isn’t it, this blogging stuff 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve never had that happen before, but it looks like I didn’t get notifications for this post for the 12th and 13th. Gonna have to check back through and see what else I missed on others. Yeah, it is time consuming. I follow far too many blogs! But I love ’em!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on As the Fates Would Have It and commented:
Beautifully written piece about regrets and the true meaning of love.
Comments are disabled. Please visit Impromptu Promptlings to leave a comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for the reblog, Lori. I didn’t get notifications to a lot of these comments on here. Going to have to go through my other posts and make sure that hasn’t happened on others.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are so welcome, Calen… yeah, I don’t always get notifications either… always have to go back and check
LikeLiked by 1 person
I liked your post. I believe I understand because of related life experiences.
I have two points to add:
1, Don’t wish for a second chance. It happened the way it did because you thought you were doing the right thing at the time. You acted with integrity. Of course with more information you would behave differently, but you didn’t have that information then, So, please, no regrets.
2. I tell my wife that when/if she finds me unconscious on the floor one day, that she should relax and wait a while with her thoughts before calling an ambulance. I only want to die once. So my point is that letting your father go depended on him not you. You were simply the witness.
Take care and be kind to yourself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely and kind comment. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave it. I apologize for the tardiness of my response. There were seven comments on here I didn’t know I had. Your thoughtful words are much appreciated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is a prompt that brings the possibility of ‘second chances.’ You’re understanding, and your feeling at you do now, is part of the healing you need. This is a good way to move forward, as you’ve decided this year you would do. This is good.
{{{Calen}}}
LikeLiked by 1 person
IS that part of what we talked about that day? We talked about so much I can’t remember the half of it! But you’re right. This IS my year to move on. I have told Drollery in no uncertain terms I need my own vehicle! Before I’ve been so passive about it. “It would be so nice if we had another little beater just for me to get around in.” I have come out of the closet at last and said I want a bloomin’ car! (God willing… 🙂 )
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure it is one of the things we talked about. 🙂 We talk about everything – “all at once.” LOL But yes! This is the moving forward year, and you’ll stick to your guns. Assertiveness is the keyword. I’ll be here for you! Rooting for you! {{{Calen}}}
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
This making me cry… big hug
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, sweetie. We’re even then. A lot of the stuff YOU’VE posted has gotten to me, too, over the months… Glad to see you back around. {{{Zareen}}}
LikeLiked by 1 person
My dear, your words are just touching me deeply… I’m so glad that you are there. Thank you. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
If I could return it would be two places/people that stand out in my mind. Standing in the Registry Office marrying David with that nagging in the back of my mind was I doing the right thing, if I had not I would not have my Sons, they are worth it all. Secondly as my Father was seriously ill he asked to see me alone in his bedroom, I could not understand what he was telling me, warning me about when he would die not to let my Mother/Sister take control of me, I knew at that instant he loved me – I never knew he loved me he was so reserved but aged 29 I suddenly found out he did love me – he died some days later and half an hour after Daddy died my mother told me she had never wanted me, only wanted my sister, Daddy’s warnings made sense.
Beautiful post Cheryl, you had me crying (too soft).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why is it some of the best lessons we learn are the most painful, eh, Anna?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really don’t know, that’s how we are.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You mean bull-headed? 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I remember when you wrote about it the first time. I felt so sorry for your Mom.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh good grief! I’ve written about this before? I think I need to check my Blog Log (yes, I actually do DO one) before I tackle any of these. Hopefully it was a long time ago! Thanks for putting that bug in my ear! 😮
LikeLike
Now my mind is racing. I think I need a color coding system! ❗
LikeLiked by 1 person
(HUGS)
Some things we have to view from the distance of time to understand. But with that understanding we often also have to revisit the pain of that moment.
I’m not sure what I would change if I could go back in time with what I know now. Would I not marry my fist husband? But if I hadn’t, would I have my kids and grandkids that I love so much today? Would I have gone to collage instead of marrying so young (I was still a SR in HS)? Our past makes us who we are today. I mostly like who I am right now (except for that pesky weight thing). I am stronger now then I ever was.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, girl, you certainly are! You’re one of the strongest, most well-balanced people I know! (Would a loooooooong coffee — without Chuck this time — disturb my awesome image of you??? 😮 😀 ) I swear before this winter is over Drollery and I MUST popped over! Saw Randy very BRIEFLY at Christmas. ❤
LikeLike
I haven’t seen Randy in a while. He moved to a differnt store.
Ok not sure about the whole awesome image thing but a nice LONG coffee date, just you and I would be great!
I’ve missed talking to you. But I’m SO close to getting SB done that I’ve really tried to buckle down (when not dealing with hubby, they require a lot of TLC! LOL). In the middle of the love scene now, it’s kind of…hot. 😉
Luv YA!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Can’t wait! How many total words are you up to now?
LikeLike
36,552. Two more chapters should wrap it up. Then I get to print it out and red line edit it. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
So proud of you, girlfriend!
LikeLike
(((((((((((HUGGIES))))))))) ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
(It’s taking every ounce of control I have right now to NOT make a smart-arse comment about Depends. You KNOW that, right??? 🙄 ) I think you have new babies on the brain! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
LMAO!!!!! 😂 that NEVER enter my mind!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀 It’s called comic relief!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cheryl. I just ran into the bathroom to get some tissues. This post affect me. I want to grab you and just hug you right now. Love can be selfish but true love is selfless–I think your mother had that selfless love. But the beauty is that your parents are together. I’m choked up–oh how I feel for you my dear….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Catherine. Hit me like a boulder in the counselor’s office that day. I was always so close to dad, but it was mom’s death that affected me the most. I thought that really odd at the time. But I’ve grown up a lot since then… 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Cheryl, I really feel for you. It’s only as we grow older ourselves that we can understand how unselfish real love is though, as you’ve come to realise. I remember a friend of mine grieving deeply for her own mother, who had died in absolute agony with cancer. My friend was beside herself with anger that the nurses had filled her mother with morphine to try and keep the pain level down as much as possible, and was sure that had they held off with the morphine her mother would have lived a little longer.
I had to bite my tongue, hard, to keep myself from questioning why she would have wanted her mother to suffer any more unbearable pain just so that she could have her for a few days longer. I’ve never brought up that subject with her, and I never will, but I think it taught me how selfish love can be sometimes – having said that, I’ve never had to face such a desperate situation and I hope I never will.
The one thing I would change, if I could go back in time, would be the crippling shyness I had as a child. It’s taken me many, many years to overcome and even now I tend to resist engaging in social situations. I accept requests to give lectures to local history societies etc., purely because I despise my natural inclination to refuse the request. I always enjoy them anyway!
I can only imagine the person I might have become had shyness not made me hide away.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Ruth. I was right where your friend was. But then so was my brother and sister. I guess we were all three functioning in “child” mode. I know one thing. That day in the counselor’s office changed my life. My mom always hid behind a protective armor. I guess it wasn’t surprising at the time that we weren’t connecting with her. She would have been a lot more at peace the next 18 months of her life if we had all understood each other better.
I also understand about the being shy. It was just easier for me to have my nose stuck in a book than to be social. Had a couple good friends at every stage of growth, but that’s all I wanted. NEVER was a social butterfly. Was better at college, but only because I also worked in the office and knew everyone from that position. Like you I always wonder how different things would have been if I hadn’t been so afraid of life. At least I guess that’s what I’ve always thought it was, fear.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I lived in the local library too Cheryl. I’ve always read avidly because I loved escaping to different worlds and times. The real world somehow was a scary place full of strange people I could make no sense of.
I was also small and very skinny – still short but no longer skinny! The world is still a scary place, but not in the same way, and there are still far too many people who hold views and values which make me angry and sad at the same time. However, I now have my own guiding principles and philosophy which underpin my sense of self. I am, at long last, happy in my own skin.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am, at long last, happy in my own skin. You’re very fortunate. I’m STILL working on that! 😮
LikeLiked by 1 person