Talk about bad timing

A few months ago, my Mom's Oncologist told her, if you continue to get lucky, you could have a year.  On a Thursday, April 9th, after some body scans, while Julie was in town, my Mom went to get her results and the Oncologist she'd first met and wasn't sure she liked due to his cold nature (though had grown to like in the time between because he'd warmed up), walked in, gave her the results; told her it was more in her brain and has now gone into her live, told her to prepare for 8 weeks and walked out. My Mom didn't tell me until Saturday when I was alone at the children's museum with both kids while Gregg was headed out of town for the night on for a bachelor getaway for a best friend. Needless to say, I was utterly stunned. Shocked to my core, heartbroken in a whole new way.

See, on Gregg's Match Day, March 20th, he found out he had gotten into the Emergency Medicine residency at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis, a top ten emergency medicine program in the country. We had finally made it.  After 8 years away, after all Gregg's hard work, after my parents had worked so hard for years hopping stand by flights to come see us so often, we were finally going to be in the same state, have dinners together, play at the river together, do waterparks together, just be.  Finally know what it could be like to be family, living close to each other and yet not on top of each other.  We knew we couldn't ask for forever, but based on her last appointment, I just wanted the summer.  I just needed the summer.  I was even approved to telework on an even more part time basis, just 15 hours a week, with 2 days off during the week just to have more time to spend and still transition whoever takes over my job. It was all incredible.  Life was coming around.  We were on cloud nine with the incredible pay off for Gregg and that it was working out that I would be coming home.

So, this bad news, this horrible sick joke being played on us, could not have come at a worse time.  No, I get it, is there ever a good time to lose your Mom?  Your best friend?  Your rock? No, there is never a good time.  But come on.  This is seriously seriously wrong.  The 8 week mark actually falls directly on Kaylen's birthday, June 4th, with Gregg's Graduation on June 5th and on June 6th, the kids and I fly to Minnesota for good.  For indefinitely. So, the doctor gave my Mom until 3. days. before. we're. there. for. good.  One sick joke.

So, we couldn't risk waiting out the time and the kids and I are here in Minnesota for 3 weeks.  We arrived May 3rd following a wedding of a best friend and will be back in Portland for less than two weeks for another wedding and Gregg's Graduation before we move to Minnesota. 

Truly, I don't know how this timing will all shake out.  Yesterday my Mom was feeling good(ish) and today she talked and acted like this is the day we should start the transition. The hard part is, I don't know how to do any of this.  One day there aren't enough people asking me about it, I feel like not enough people care and the next, her friends are breaking down in front of me and I want to stick my head in the sand.  Either way, I know I will never be ready.  I've seen lately on social media people losing a parent, a grandparent, and all the comments say, my prayers are will you, my condolences and I total ly understand that there isn't much to be said.  But it feels like it all lies on the surface.  And I struggle with knowing that my pain will run deep for so long and my biggest fear is wondering how long the core crushing heartbreak will take me down.  I wonder when I will feel truly happy again. For myself, my kids, my husband, for my friends.  I don't know who this will turn me into and I know it will make me a shell of the person I am.

It's been just two days and it's hard.  It's really hard to be a new stay at home parent all day long with two kids on top of wanting to be helpful to my parents, my Dad with all of his lists, that are now only his to accomplish, and wanting to spend time with my Mom.  It is hard.  All day is hard, something I haven't experienced in a long time, physically, emotionally and mentally hard.  Everyone says to just enjoy the time, but again, it's hard.  Of course I want to spend my days and my moments with my Mom, but it's hard to see her weak to see her struggle to remember things or be the places she wants to be when it's hard for her to get around. Knowing that much of any of these memories are the lasts.  Makes pretty much all the good moments bittersweet moments.  I wish I could be the cup half full that some seem to think I am or want me to be, but most days, I feel cup half empty. And really, in my regular life, I fluctuate between both sides. And some times I just put on a really good show. But this all just sucks.  The timing sucks, losing out on this summer sucks, knowing that so much of her in how she liked to spend her time is gone with her lack of energy, and already grieving all that is lost in the future. There is nobody in the world that can replace my Mom or hold a candle to the legacy she has left on my life.  So many seem to think I'm strong or at least tell me I am, but I feel anything but trying to go through this phase of my life. But I'm doing the best I can and I will for as long as I can.  And I'm sure going to hope that sees me through to the other side.