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November 21, 2003

Memories

Today is the fourth anniversary of my mothers death and I would have to admit that she is still missed.

I was in the Philippines on business when I got a message to say that she had a blockage of the bowel and had been taken into hospital. Some frantic phoning around for a change of flights to come home earlier produced very little alternative to staying with the one I was on, and the hospital advised that the operation had been successful. My brother had managed to get there from Cape Town and I was assured that I could stay with my original flight plan and see her when I got back.

I arrived back home to be greeted by a tearful wife, and my elder daughter and son with the news that Mum had died at 0200 that morning, having been "a little feverish and tired" the day before. My son drove me to London immediately as, following a 19 hour flight on which I had not slept well, I was in no state to drive.

Now I could be very angry about her death. OK, she was 74 and very frail. She had a heart problem and breathed with difficulty thanks to having smoked most of her life. About eighteen months earlier she had taken a bad fall - again just by pure luck my brother had been staying with her and found her - but I had to threaten to sue the hospital when, after twenty one hours, she still had not been given the operation she desperately needed! Her death is given on her death certificate (in medical jargon) as heart failure due to a pneumococal infection.

Now these don't just happen, they are always a risk after surgery and the older you are the greater the risk. So why wasn't she seen by a Doctor for more than 36 hours before she died? Even my brother (with no medical training!) could see that she had some sort of infection and was feverish. Why wasn't this spotted by the medical staff? The nurses dismissed his fears, saying "its normal - always a reaction after surgery". Strange how her medical notes vanished as soon as I asked for them. Yes, I could be angry. I try not to be. At 74 her quality of life was deteriorating and she had lost most of her close friends to age and illness, but she was someone I could talk to when I was feeling down and was never too busy to welcome me and listen to my woes. I hope that I can be the same when I have to slow down and stop being busy.

In all I have lost four members of my own blood family and not been there when they "left the room" as the old tract has it, all of them people on whom I had been dependent at one time or another and to whom I owed everything. Yes, I feel guilt at not being there when they left this life, and part of that is the feeling that I could have done so much more for them all while they were alive if I hadn't been so busy with my own life and needs. For all four it has fallen to me to make all the funeral arrangements and to close off the legal issues surrounding a death, including disposal of some very personal things like papers, furniture and clothing. It is never easy and once or twice I have been accused of being uncaring or callous by those who have not understood how difficult it has been to do this. But, again, it means that I cannot mourn until it is all done - and sometimes that is too late.

Within months of my mothers death, my father in law slipped away from this life and my wife, I know, still feels that she should have been at his bedside. I know exactly how she feels, and the anger at oneself for having failed someone who has meant everything to you through your life.

Being a Christian helps in one important area. Without being trite, I know that my mourning and sense of loss is a personal one. I am feeling sorry for me, not for the person who, I firmly believe, is now in a much happier state. It is still a wrench to have to let go of the one you love, and this state of being is a finite one, a fact I am reminded of as I get older and find that things I used to be able to do now are a lot more difficult to achieve and seem to take considerably more effort.

So I turn now to celebrating Mum's life. She had many faults (who doesn't?), she had many strengths. She was a survivor and a battler for what she believed in. She could be a lioness in defence of her family when necessary. Life was not kind to her and she had to struggle through to the end. My brother and I both miss her, but know that she is never far away, even now. Tonight I will raise a glass in her memory.

Cheers Mum, until we meet again, rest easy, we will manage as you showed us the how too.

Ecclesiaticus 44 - 9 & 10 "And some there be that have no memorial; who are perished, as though they had never been; and are become as though they had never been born; and their children after them. But these were merciful men, whose righteousness hath not been forgotten."

Posted by The Gray Monk at November 21, 2003 12:28 PM