The agony of death for the living
I’m noticing a painful trend lately when I check my Facebook account ... that my friends are all going through the agony of losing someone close to them. Its a painful feelings that I can relate to all too well. Its so strange how life can be wonderfully awesome and then turn and becoming unbearably painful. One of the curses in life is that people in your life - those you cherish and even depend on for emotional, spiritual and personal growth - start to leave you. For the last 2 years I’ve been losing people that I have grown to love dearly and appreciate more as an adult woman. There was Catherine the Great (Grandma Catherine). She was actually my half-sister’s blood grandmother but she adopted me one of her own and I loved her dearly. Her humor, her strength and her vivacious spirit to live life on her own terms. She beat cancer twice and I thought, even as an adult, that she was unstoppable and would be around long enough for me to get married and have her tell her crazy, wonderful stories to my children. But it was not to be as the cancer she fought so hard to beat came back to claim her. Then there’s Grandpa Carlos … another grandparent forged from marriage and he was a hoot. Ornery, rebellious, funny and a smart-mouth. He also was full of story from his youth and adulthood – like most men who lived through the war times of the 20th century. His passing was sad, but I was so happy to have had those funny times of sneaky food with him. Then there was my sweet Uncle Gene. Once again cancer was the culprit. Here was a man that beat his demons, a recovering alcoholic that served in the Korean war. He was a simple man that loved daily walks and playing golf. He was a quiet man, with a raspy voice from his years of smoking – but he gave that up to in order to live a more peaceful and healthy life … and wouldn’t you know it, lymphoma decided his body was the perfect place to take over. His death caused so much stress on my aunt and her step-sons, but my mom got her through it and things began to feel normal again. And then BAM, my mom began to get sick and what started as a tiny and I mean super tiny bump on her lower back turned into a raging infection that poisoned her blood and required her to undergo a surgery so intense that it left a hole in her back. Stage 4 wound they called it, but the reality is it was hole bigger than a fist. But never fear, my mom was superwoman to me …. We were going to beat this. Yes life would be different, but my mom has overcoming so many things. She took her diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis in stride and went on to become a group leader of the only MS Support group that served the South Central Los Angeles area. Her house was modified and she continued to go out and live her life. She started a garden, organized luncheons, and became a peer support leader in order to counsel others who were devastated by their conditions. Yes, as a family we were going to beat this, but it was not to be. And yet even as she fought off infections her body became weak and she made the brave decision to live the rest of her life on her terms… no more hospitals, no more rehab centers and no more toxic medications. The words “Hospice” had never meant anything to me until they were used in the same sentence as my mother’s name. When the doctor came to our home and said “Ok Ms Alva, I know a wonderful agency that provides hospice care” I froze. Hospice meant that we were done fighting and that just couldn’t be … but as I looked at mom and saw she was happy – wait that’s not the right word …at peace with her decision … I tried to be ok with it. But really in the back of my mind things could turn around. But they didn’t, not for my lack of trying but because my mother had found her peace and didn’t want me to be miserable in trying to fight the inevitable. Instead she wanted me to have her with a clear mind so our time together could be memorable and loving. And no matter how prepared you are for someone’s transitions … you’re never prepared when they take that final breath. No matter how peaceful the passing from this life, it is the most painfully thing to your soul. From then on, I just expected everyone to die … my dog died 2 months later. My brothers and I are of the firm belief that he was searching for my mom when he jumped out of the car (something his NEVER done) and ran away. I prayed to my mother and the gods for 3 days until he was found died by the side of the road. My heart, my mind and my spirit could take no more. I couldn’t understand why the things I loved so dearly in this world were being taking away. So I ran away … I sold my mom’s estate and left California and the United States. I somehow thought this would give me the fresh start I needed … I wouldn’t be bothered by the heavy emotions and could be anyone. Only that didn’t happen. Just as I was preparing to move, my dad had a heart attack. I cursed the gods – they were useless. They had proven so over and over again. But the heavens – even in my rants and curses – spread me another death and my father recovered. But my heart, mind and spirit were battered and bruised, and so recovery was my goal. I moved to Canada to recover from this pain and yet the pain still comes. Now my Aunt Sylvia, the aunt who was married to Uncle Gene, has been diagnosed with cancer as well. The memories and emotions I thought I had gotten ahold of have all flooded back as she is now in the same hospital her husband and my mom were end. Cancer has decided that she is worthy of been used to spread its cancerous cells and at such a rapid rate that it has literally taken over her body and starving her. The cruelty of life rears its ugly head and all I can do is sit hear and watch this movie play out again with an unhappy ending and wonder who is next.
