She came home from the hospital, straight into home hospice.
She slipped quickly. One day we were shopping and enjoying ice cream dates. The next we would barely be blessed by her smile and conversation.
Another 24-hours later and we’d have nothing.
She was still with us but fading quickly with each moment and each breath.
She was dying. We knew it but we couldn’t comprehend it. It didn’t make sense. To be honest, it still doesn’t make sense.
We surrounded her with love. Never leaving her side. Everyone came. Especially those that mattered. We cried. We laughed. We hugged. We supported one another. All the while, she lay there dying.
There were times I’d have to walk away. Seeing her like that was unbearable. Watching her slip away and take her last breath is something that will never leave me.
We learned quickly who the strong were. They were the ones who stayed. They were the fierce warriors we all so desperately needed. They blessed us with their support and love.
As we close in on the anniversary of my mother’s death, I’d love to be flooded with the loving times, the fun times, the unforgettable moments and adventures. Sadly, I’m flooded with images of the last days. Overwhelmed with images of her death. Paraylyzed by images of the moment I lost her. This time of year is hard. It always reveals the darkness and not the beautiful light that she so often exuded.
The brutal truth is that the anniversary of her death is also the anniversary of the day a piece of my heart broke. A piece I will never get back, a piece that will never heal, a piece that died with her on that day.
I will never forget those last days and breaths. She laid there dying and a piece of all of us was dying too.
A wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.
I love you sweet Chelsa… i wish i could change this for you… i pray the precious sweet loving memories overpower the last memories of her life and fill your days with joy.
Nancy, you are the sweetest and I appreciate your unwavering support! You are such a special person! Love you! xox, Chels
I lost my mom October 4th 2018 I too was by her side watching her die. It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life yet I feel so blessed to have had that time by her side. I dont know how to live without her…I want to say your posts are amazing and have helped me so much to realize my grief is real and it’s ok to feel what I feel…you are a blessing…thank you
Ronda, October 4th is my mother’s birthday. It’s a date that also brings pain and heartbreak. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work and even more to take the time to comment. You brought tears to my eyes. Being called a blessing to someone is such an amazing compliment. I started writing to turn my grief productive and honor my mother. It has been such a therapeutic experience. When others quote me, read my work or share my work with others, it creates a fire and joy in my heart that is indescribable. Thank you for being here. I hope you’ll keep coming back. xox, Chels
I lost my mom dec 20 2018 and my husband Jan 14 2019. I was at my moms bedside in the and laid next to my husband in our bed, Those images will never leave my mind, but the envisioning of them healthy is what keeps me going. That’s how they would want to be remembered. May God bless you and help you find the strength to live day to day. We can only due one day at a time.
Debbie, Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment on my work. I agree. We take things day by day. One day could be filled with beautiful memories and the next could be filled with sorrow and sadness from the empty space created in our hearts the day they left this earth. I hope you’ll keep coming back to my website and read my future work. xox, Chels
I’m not sure how I stumbled upon your website. My mother died in 2005, I was with her, and I’ve never been the same. I am blown away at how well you have captured how I, and presumably thousands of others, feel after the loss of our mothers. I have a lump in my throat and tears on my face. Thank you for this loveliness. Now excuse me while I have a good cry.