That is guilt I live with every single day.
Mother had severe coronary artery spasms, so severe that nitroglycerin was not effective. The heart muscle would basically cramp; twisting and turning - causing extreme pain. In the early weeks of these episodes, the spasms came every couple of days, and nitroglycerin would alleviate the pain. Then they began coming daily, then several times a day. In her finals days, the spasms were nearly hourly. And although my mother was the strongest woman I've known, the pain was too much for her to bear. In all honesty, it was unbearable thing for me and my siblings to watch her go through, as well.
Mom knew she had Hospice nurses caring for her. She also knew she had the last word. Absolutely nothing would be done without her permission. She even explained her fear of becoming addicted to morphine to the doctor. Mother was in charge.
So, you'd think that would be enough to aid in the decision-making process.
Well, I can tell you that - for me - it didn't help.
That night four-years ago, Mom had been very restless for several hours. I sat in the rocking chair next to her bed, holding her hand. She'd sleep for a little while, then wake up in pain. She tried to cope with it, but after several hours, and late into the night, she cried out, "Sydney, please do something. Sydney, please!" over and over. I held her hand, crying - hoping she would change her mind. But she didn't. She began crying and repeated, "Sydney, please."
I turned to the nurse and asked her to take away my mother's pain.
All of the people in the world can tell me that I did the 'right thing,' but it won't take away the guilt I feel. I don't know what will take that pain away for me -- perhaps nothing ever will.
I try to keep in mind that guilt is a normal emotion that goes hand-in-hand with grief.
I also try to always remember that guilt is also an indicator of a person who is loving, caring and compassionate - otherwise why would it bother me so much that I was unable to keep mom out of pain?
I try to remember that if it had not been that night, it would have been another. I was so focused on Mother's crisis, that I didn't see how close to the end she was. And although I was sitting right there next to her, I didn't see it coming.
I try to keep in mind that despite the hole left in my heart and the hearts of my entire family, my mother's end time is not how her life should be defined.
But, of course, I wish I could talk to her one more time to tell her how much I love her, what an honor it was to have her live with us for so many years, and what a wonderful mother and friend she was to me. Face-to-face.
Guilt is a burden.
Caring for Mother was not!
I know I've included this photo in several posts, but one more time won't hurt a thing. This is our last photo taken together, only two weeks before she passed.
I love and miss you, mom.
