We didn’t know she was so sick. She didn’t know she was so sick. The only solace I can find is that when relatives ask, “Did she suffer?” I can honestly say that she suffered enough to keep her home from work, but not enough to send her to the doctor. It was only pressure from her children and her trusted chiropractor she had been seeing for 30 years that convinced her to see a medical doctor. I have heard of cancer patients lingering on medicine and wasting away slowly before their family members’ eyes. Mom did waste away, but it was so fast!

On March 5th,  she was told that she had cancer and needed to go to a Rehab to get strong enough for treatment. On the 18th, I was called at 5:15 am, and told she was unresponsive. She was rushed to the hospital where at 9:19 am, she was pronounced no longer with us. I handwrote an essay the weekend before about the failure of the American Healthcare System in their providing for the actual care of the patients. The doctors are beholden to the insurance companies for payment and are not ABLE to give the best care needed for the patient. I was angry, especially when she passed away out of the comfort of her home, where she wanted to be.

On Monday, the 17th, she told me she wanted to go home, “tonight.” I called her doctor and had my siblings ready her room. That was no small feat. My mother could have been considered a hoarder, and the room needed to be cleared out and sanitized for when hospice came to deliver the bed and equipment. Mom got it all delivered that Monday afternoon, but the paperwork needed to be submitted and all that. “One more night,” I had to tell her. The room was ready for her at home, but she had to stay one more night for Medicare’s sake.

I assured her that I was with her, sleeping in my van in the parking lot. The doors locked at 9 pm, and I couldn’t get back in at one point. She was confused, asking me where my key was. I think she thought she was already home. I kissed her, reminded her “one more night,” and told her I loved her, to call me if she needed me. She told me she loved me and I went to sleep in the parking lot. The feral and soul rending scream I let out when I knew that my mother would never make it home shook my van windows; it contained all of my energy and life. An afterthought I had was that I hoped her spirit had heard and felt my anguish, enough to follow me and not stay lingering in that God awful place.

I was fully intending on taking care of her full time. A sister had volunteered to take family leave. I thought when her’s ended, I would take up that mantle or take it up first. Whichever way it landed. We thought we had more time. There were loose ends that needed to be tied up, and Mom was vocally worried about them. I had told her not to worry, we would take care of all of that when she came home and got settled. We didn’t even have time to let it register that she had cancer. She was more worried about getting the house signed over to my brother and adding my name to her checking account.

There was no will. The house is still in her name, and there are five siblings, two of which live there, and I use the house as an address, though I don’t sleep there. I do plug into the house if my power bank needs charging, and I have spent nights in the driveway. My oldest sister is not well, and it would be morally irresponsible to just hand her her portion of the sale. And that’s another thing that we all need to deal with, telling her that we are selling it. The 4 siblings who can and do hold jobs are unable to assume the care and upkeep of the house, which would include the care and upkeep of the oldest sibling as she is not able to care for herself. Talking to each other separately, we agreed to sell it, but the eldest has been left out of these conversations as we all believe that she assumes we are going to keep it and keep taking care of her. I’m not cold-hearted, but I can’t be the one responsible for my sister’s care. I will try to set up some sort of trust and guardianship for her. I believe that she has already been declared incompetent, so that may be easier than I anticipate.

My future is uncertain, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I feel as though my tethers that tied me to this area of the planet were burnt away in the retort with my mother, and I am now able to go live anywhere. The nature of my job has been weighing on me as well; not the accounting aspect, but the type of company I work for. It is owned by a couple of guys that are my age and very nice. Very generous and understanding employers. The trouble is that it’s a corporate real estate development company – the very reason I am unable to afford decent housing even with their generous salary. Where I live, two incomes have become a necessity. And every day, I go into the office and work my tail off so that they can buy more apartment buildings and keep inflating that bubble.

My future is uncertain, but I do know that I am feeling my mortality these days. Watching your mother go from 84 to 75 pounds in less than a week, passing away and realizing that you don’t have any of your distant relatives’ phone numbers will do that. Mom didn’t have a little paper phone book, and her phone needs her thumbprint to get into it. I am thinking that when the house is sold and the money is split between the kids, I will take a trip and visit all my relatives for a week at a time. Travel to meet them all and find a nice place that I feel like I can settle down. There are friends I know from online and phone only, and I would like to meet and visit with them too. I’ll find work somewhere that aligns more with my morals. I don’t need much.

We always think we have more time. I know I did. I love you, Mom.