My mother passed away on a Sunday. She went downhill remarkably quickly, but the first bad night she had was Wednesday. She was sleeping on the sofa when she woke up panicked, complaining that she couldn't breathe. I set her up in the recliner, gave her some medication to help her relax, and then I brushed her hair until she relaxed and finally fell asleep. I sat in the armchair next to the recliner the entire night.
My mother's neighbor, Debbie, came over in the morning, and she and I were chatting quietly while my mother dozed. When my mother awoke, she looked around the room and then asked, "Where'd that man go?"
Debbie and I looked at each other, and Debbie asked, "What man?"
My mom said very nonchalantly, "The man who stood behind Rhonda watching over her all night."
I know. Goosebumps, right? I had them, too. And I think that I'm dealing with my mother's death well because of that. I was protected. I AM protected. I miss her. Terribly. But something else exists beyond this life. I do believe that now.
My mom was a tiny woman--4'9 at the time of her death. She was heavy when I was growing up, but she lost all her weight and managed to stay small. My mom had a LOT of clothing that still has the tags, never worn: several pair of knit pants from Sears (size petite small) and two pair of capri pants, (size petite medium.) The knit pants fit me, (because they stretch) but I want to return them. I'm 5'3" and petite pants are often just a little bit short. I prefer my pants to "break" at my shoe, and these don't. The capris are not knit but instead a cotton-poly broadcloth, so they don't stretch. I wasn't sure they would fit me at all.
They do. Perfectly. In fact, I wore a pair to school last week.
It's hard to get my head to accept that I'm a size medium. Bizarre. I still feel fat, although in my heart, I know I'm not. I still view chairs with arms as the enemy. I still walk into a theatre and wince at the thought of squeezing into the uncomfortable chairs. I still gravitate toward larger styles and have a very hard time purchasing clothing that flatters this new body, instead wanting to find clothing that covers--because that's what I USED to do.
Size MEDIUM. Me. It's surreal...and yet it's real. Maybe my angel can help me accept that?
My mother's neighbor, Debbie, came over in the morning, and she and I were chatting quietly while my mother dozed. When my mother awoke, she looked around the room and then asked, "Where'd that man go?"
Debbie and I looked at each other, and Debbie asked, "What man?"
My mom said very nonchalantly, "The man who stood behind Rhonda watching over her all night."
I know. Goosebumps, right? I had them, too. And I think that I'm dealing with my mother's death well because of that. I was protected. I AM protected. I miss her. Terribly. But something else exists beyond this life. I do believe that now.
My mom was a tiny woman--4'9 at the time of her death. She was heavy when I was growing up, but she lost all her weight and managed to stay small. My mom had a LOT of clothing that still has the tags, never worn: several pair of knit pants from Sears (size petite small) and two pair of capri pants, (size petite medium.) The knit pants fit me, (because they stretch) but I want to return them. I'm 5'3" and petite pants are often just a little bit short. I prefer my pants to "break" at my shoe, and these don't. The capris are not knit but instead a cotton-poly broadcloth, so they don't stretch. I wasn't sure they would fit me at all.
They do. Perfectly. In fact, I wore a pair to school last week.
It's hard to get my head to accept that I'm a size medium. Bizarre. I still feel fat, although in my heart, I know I'm not. I still view chairs with arms as the enemy. I still walk into a theatre and wince at the thought of squeezing into the uncomfortable chairs. I still gravitate toward larger styles and have a very hard time purchasing clothing that flatters this new body, instead wanting to find clothing that covers--because that's what I USED to do.
Size MEDIUM. Me. It's surreal...and yet it's real. Maybe my angel can help me accept that?
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