I am wondering why I have not experienced the feeling of grief & why can't I find the good memories in my mind to put into the memory of my Mother like others do of their families. It has been 4 months since my Mother died. I was in the medical hospital at the time she died but had been with her just 2 hours before that. That period of time is a black hole in my life. I was totally exhausted after spending 24 hrs / day with my Mother, then trying to protect her & myself from the home care RN that stole her ID & abused her by OD'ing her along with the many other horrible things she did in 5 days. Knowing during that time that my mother only had limited time left. Before my mother could no longer talk, she was constantly bombarding me with the question of when she was going to get better...I mean really....the only answer I could provide was that is wasn't in our hands anymore. The talk I had with her doctor when I could finally corner him only reinforced what I already knew about her illness, however he never would admit that her cancer had spread. I made a big mistake with her care & I know that somewhere inside, I am blaming myself for letting that RN into our lives but for the life of me, I just don't know how I would have done anything different given the same things happening. I should have been tougher with my Mother, but didn't want to take her dignity away. I feel that I was trapped into my dicision.

I should be looking back & having good memories of my mother but I'm not...the past was rocky & she was always taking things so personally & getting bent out of shape at the littelist thing & wouldn't talk to me for a while until she got over what ever was bugging her. My psychologist has reminded me that she never was supportive of me during my really bad times that I was seeing this psychologist 8 yrs ago....during my many suicide attempts...of course, maybe my Mother was keeping her distance at the time because she didn't know how to deal with me either....but she was always into herself even when I was a child....not at all how she was with my daughter....maybe she learned something.

At the end of her life, I really don't have any good memories except for the few days when we were eating breakfast together. The whole end of Nov, Dec, & first days of Jan were all caught up in the ID theft, abuse, & the nightmere that I lived through because she just had to be in her home & wouldn't let me be part of the decision making process when she was in the hospital during Nov. I look back & resent the fact that because she had her way, I ended up having to live through & deal with the trauma & being accused of her abuse & file police reports. I ended so exhausted, had so much fear, & was so stressed by the whole thing that I ended up in the medical hospital on a feeding IV, so dehydrated, anemic & mal nurished that I had to plan her memorial service & funeral from the hospital. I had my daughter mad at me because I didn't have a big funeral like we had for my Father at the church....I had my reasons. I couldn't deal with my Mothers boyfriend or his daughter or the pastor of her church & know if I had the funeral at the church, they would be there & they were closely involved with the RN....no way could I put myself in that position, so I protected myself by having only close friends & family at the graveside funeral....I had a good friend of mine sing most of the service & the pastor from my church do the service. I had left the hospital AMA to avoid being put on a 72 hr hold in order to be at the funeral, but don't remember anything about it except waking up that morning not knowing where I was & not knowing what was going on....that is pretty much how this whole period went & what memories I have of my Mother are holding her responsible for what happened...even her cancer was her responsibility because like her surgeon said, she didn't give us much to work with when she came to us...she was already at stage IV cancer...it doesn't get much worse than that....she said she realized the problem 4 months before doing something about it....that had to be impossible because the tumor was the size of my fist at the first appointment....was she in denial, why didn't she realize the problem when it could have been taken care of...how our decisions really effect even the end of our lives without it really being suicide or was it....why would anyone want that kind of suffering in their life....I can remember the pain she was in & the fact that she wouldn't even talk to me about what was happening to her...she kept saying that God would answer the prayers of the church people & hers so that she would get better....I kept telling her that the answer might not be what she really expected. Why was I in the position to be grounded in reality but that has always been me. How could she not know what was happening to her, how hard it is to comfort someone that you know is dying.

I have been reading a book on grief & have put down about 1/2 page of term that are related to grief. I decided to write down what I feel regarding the word & they all relate to dealing with the trauma & nothing except anger at my Mother for being stupid. Unfortunately, that is a trait I have seen throughout her life & I feel guilty realizing that it is the way I perceive my Mother & has been the way I have seen both of my parents most of my life. I am also angry that because of the decisions she make, I am still struggling with the trauma, having nightmeres, flash backs & dealing with experiences that have been defined as depersonalization. How could she do something that messed me up so much. This is making no sense in my mind....only to make me more confused about the whole subject of grief.

Sorry for the rambling, but thoughts are flashing while struggling with my emotions,
Debbie