First, let me apologize in advance if I’ve snapped at anyone recently or in the weeks to come.  This is not a good time of year for me.

This week, as I try to tolerate an amount of chronic pain in my back that is worse than before, my emotions are on edge.  Triggers abound at every turn.  Some days I just want to quit… work… life… everything.  Crawl inside this consuming darkness and let it devour me.  I know I can’t, but its there gnawing at me.

Triggers… Things that bring back thoughts, memories and sadness, with an occasional mix of fond memory and joy.  There are many triggers these days.

July 4th, 2010 – The Party on the White House Lawn.  The last time my mother would experience fireworks.  During the show a shell would land in a cardboard box with over 100 shells in it.  They explode simultaneously.  We (the shooters) run for cover, but keep the show going as soon as we realize its safe.  I take the initiative to check on guys close to the station where it happened.  A few singed bits but no injuries.

July 7th, 2010 – At work, I get a phone call from Dad, He’s taking Mom to the hospital.  She is having trouble breathing.

July 12th or 13th, 2010 – We journey as a family to see a Cancer Specialist in Pittsburgh.  Mom’s tumors in her lungs have grown.  Her local Cancer Doctor suggests talking to the specialist to see if there is anything he can do.  The specialist is very upfront.  He asks a few questions, which I can tell Mom and Dad don’t know the answers to.  “Did you know how big your tumors are?”  Mom and Dad both hang their heads.  They don’t know because at this point Mom has stopped asking questions about her Cancer.  I feel helpless as the specialist states that were it his family member, he would take her home and let her be comfortable and bring in Hospice.  Dad is angry with this doctor to this day because he feels this statement made Mom give up.

“HOSPICE” July, 15, 2014 – A Facebook friend posts that her Dad is under Hospice care.  There is a picture with the post.  I tear up.  I remember that feeling.  The Helplessness… You need to do something but what.  The Hope… Wishing, wanting for that one thing that will bring them back to you.  The Memories… In the dark watch hours, the memories come in floods.  The Anger… Could I have done more.  Was I a bad son for not pushing her to ask more questions.  The Sadness…  Knowing the end is coming and not wanting to let go.  Emotions flow like the tides during a hurricane.

“SLEEP” The End is Near July, 2010- Over the next week or so, Mom would slowly begin to run down.  She couldn’t lay down because she couldn’t breathe in that position.  Her strength ebbed.  She began to sleep all the time.  At first she would wake up to eat or go to the bathroom or go out and enjoy the fresh air on the porch.  Later, it was only when necessary.  She couldn’t even make it out on the porch anymore for fresh air.

“The Call” July 26th, 2010 – Dad called and told me she was gone.  I could hear the pain and sadness in his voice.  I rushed to their house.  Never has that couple of blocks seemed so long.  He knew she was gone.  She had slept away.  The last time he tried to get her up to the bathroom, she said no and collapsed down in his recliner.  He drifted off to sleep and she went home to be with “The Lord”.

“Days Lost”  Calling Hours and The Funeral – I was so afraid that the funeral arrangements wouldn’t work out.  Mom never seemed to discuss what she wanted, at least not when I was around.  Everything fell in place.  Those days of Calling Hours and the Funeral are somewhat a blur.  There are some memories that shine through.  The number of people Mom’s life had touched.  My Co-Workers and Boss standing there in line.  I don’t know why I didn’t think they would care, but they were there.  Special friends like Judy Miller.  She was one of those friends that no matter how long its been since you’ve seen them, they were always there.  There are other memories that I won’t bore you with.  Some I’ve posted before.

As I fight my own battles with the pain in my back, which required a muscle relaxer a few minutes ago, I snap back to how Mom fought Cancer.  She rarely complained, though she had every right to.  She kept herself involved in things as much as her pain and treatments would allow.  I wish I had an ounce of her strength tonight, as the pain keeps creeping up in intensity.  I hate taking these stupid muscle relaxers and pain pills, but she took far stronger medications.

I will keep fighting the fight.  The “Triggers” bring back Memories.  I think sometimes to remind me of how she handled her fight.  I hope I don’t fly off the handle at anyone in the upcoming days.   They will be hard for me.  I can’t shut them out for risk of losing what I have left of her in my heart.  I know they will be harder for Dad.  He doesn’t say much, but I know he hurts too.

Thanks for listening.  Maybe I will sleep now, Maybe I won’t.  These thoughts were flying around in my brain and I hope writing them out will bring me some rest.

~Cappy