The last 7 months have been a rough ride. Grief can be ugly. Especially when it keeps the company of depression. I have been in a dark, dark place. But I'm not ready to talk about that. What I do want to do, is nurture this sliver of light... this irredescent thread of hope I've happened upon; and strengthen it. It's fine and almost invisible, but I am holding on for dear life. If I'm right, by giving *this* all of my will, rather than just allowing the darkness to swallow me, I will climb out. I will come back to where I need to be. 

I don't need to know all the answers... I just need to believe I'm getting closer to fine. 

For those of you that have supported and encouraged me... I can't thank you enough. This song - especially the first verse up to the bridge - is for you. Your friendship and concern have kept me boyant. I'm sorry I haven't been able to reciprocate. I will soon. I will soon. I love you. 

Closer To Fine - Indigo Girls

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shores. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle, or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
and I went in seeking clarity. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
We go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
We look to the children, we drink from the fountains

We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

Today is for some reason, especially hard. Perhaps it was the realization that I am here in my home town and for the first time in my entire life, my mother isn't in it with me. 

Maybe it's because this is the first Easter without her and I really wanted to have lamb. We always had lamb. But I couldn't find any that looked nice enough, so I got a roast instead and it just feels wrong. 

I fought back tears all day while we were out. Now that I'm home, I can't stop crying. My husband seemed.... annoyed with me all afternoon and my child has been obnoxious - ironically not so mch today, but lately it has been far too often.

Sad doesn't begin to describe how I feel. I am still completely lost. 

I miss her so much. Every decision, every moment is either very painful or painfully devoid of anything resembling happiness. I wonder when it gets better, but worse, I worry that it won't. I worry that it will always feel like *this* when the greatest emotion I am capable of experiencing is crushing sadness. Everything else is just grey and so impossibly full of effort. 

This 20 seconds captures one of the best moments of my life. It's Christmas Eve of 2008 and Grace was too excited to go to bed, so she provided some light entertainment instead. In the background is my mother's voice. I haven't been able to stop watching this for days. It's comforting and painful all at once. 

I miss you mommy :( 

I'm sitting here in my office that will only be mine for another two and a half weeks; sobbing. 

I should probably go home, but that would involve talking to someone and quite frankly, I just want to crawl under my desk. 

I'm not coping well. 

I really thought I was. Right up until the precise moment that I realized I'm not.

And I have no clue what to do. 

Worse is that I don't have the energy to care. 

Save for my beautiful child, my days are dark and lonely and impossibly hard. 

I try desperately to make Grace's life normal and routine. But I'm failing miserably because I'm in a constant state of flux - a state of moving from one responsibility to the next without joy or relief. I force myself to prepare meals and do the laundry. It seems that anything I clean is almost instantaneously cluttered and the sprawl of stuff creeps into other rooms I'm trying not to use in an effort to contain the chaos. I haven't kept after Grace to tidy either. I can barely keep after myself. So, toys don't get put away and there is a never ending stream of size 5 skirts, poorly matched tops and too small (but out of the question to part with) tights littering the house from the countless wardrobe and mood changes of the spritely little diva I live with.

She's doing what she should be doing; creating and immersing herself in happy, elaborate and fantastical worlds. However, I know that she's also hiding from me. Her playing is rescuing her from the sullen and "fighting to exist" state that her mother is in.

And I hate that I've done that to her. I hate that the death of her grandmother has to strip her of her innocence. I hate that play has become an escape. 

Hello dear blogging friends. This is not spam. I swear.

Do you want a free ten minute psychic reading? We'd ask that you blog about it with at least one link, and while you're free to be skeptical we ask that you not be unkind. :D

If you're interested, email me at... Thank you!

So I did, and within minutes, I had everything I needed to get my free reading from the Psychic Source. 

Now, I have been to many psychics. Usually with a group of friends and always in person; certainly never on the phone. I have always left those readings feeling entertained, but the experiences have always proved vague enough to have to "make it fit" into my current situation. That ultimately leaves me with a lingering feeling of regret and annoyance at wasting my money. So needless to say, though looking forward to its 'free-ness' I wasn't expecting to get much from a telephone reading. I went into this with a feeling of skepticism to say the least.  

When I called the number given to me by Cecily, I was surprised by how vast the phone network was. When you call, the menu is set up to take you to a number of account management options and also to another menu where you select the psychic you want to speak with. That part was really cool... I was able to "shop" a bit based on voice and specialty. 

I chose "Julie" fairly quickly. Mostly because she specializes in contact with lost loved ones. Though I'm still really fragile from losing my mom, I saw this as an opportunity to check in with her... assuming this reading wasn't just a bunch of bunk. 

Julie was so nice and had a really welcoming and pleasant demeanor. She asked me my name and also what I wanted to talk about. I hesitated a little.... you don't exactly want to give away too much to a psychic right? The conversation went a little like this: 

Me: Well, your bio mentioned you can contact lost loved ones

Julie: Can I have a first name? 

Me: Joan (crying started...)

Julie: Is this a close friend? 

Me: (feeling disappointment) No, it's my mother. 

Julie: You know I thought that, but you seem really more like friends

Me: (this is true, but I felt it was just an attempt at recovery) Yes we were extremely colse. 

So at this point I'm pretty doubtful this is going to go anywhere. We were only one minute in though, and what happened next quickly blew my mind: 

Julie: She died very recently right?

Me: Yes, December 30th.

Julie: I see she was sick. July. This is an important month correct? 

Me: (thinking.... but coming up blank) 

Julie: This was when she was diagnosed isn't it? 

Me: (OMG) Yes! 

Julie: (this is still only mere moments into our reading) She's showing me a lot of pain in her lower left abdomen

Me: (OMFG) Yes, wow. 

My mom's lymph nodes in her abdomen were brutally infected with cancer - the pain started in her left lower abdomen - just above the groin. This was when we found out my mom's prognosis - that pain was with her until the end. 

Julie: I see a very balanced good bye. No regrets. You and your mother didn't leave anything unsaid. 

Me: (HUGE sobs) that's right. That's the first comfort I had after she passed. I was with her until the end and said I had no regrets. I did everything I could to honour her well toward the end of her life. 

Julie: I see a young girl. Do you have a daughter? 

Me: Yes. 

Julie: Is she about 6? 

Me: She's 4. 

Julie: She seems older 

Me: I'm told that all the time :) 

Julie: I'm seeing the colour orange... it won't be important to you yet though. The importance will be revealed in time...

Julie: You're alone right now? Is no one with you? Where is your husband? You're not divorced are you? I see that you're far away from your friends and family.

Me: Wow. Yes, I am alone. My husband is away working right now. (more crying) And yes, my friends are far away. I have some friends here, but more in Toronto. 

Julie: Oh sweetie, that is so hard for you. You shouldn't be alone. 

Julie: You have a brother correct?

Me: (OMG) Yes

Julie: Your mother is showing me a winter scene... Something with skis. Your brother is there. Something to do with Christmas. 

Me: We were just visiting my brother at Christmas...

Julie: There's a strong image of skis and winter and snow... 

Me: I can't think of what that would mean. My daughter skates, but skis? No.

All through our conversation, Julie kept bringing up the skis. And it just didn't click. Until after our phone call when it dawned on me!! A LONG story short... we, as a family, spent Christmas at the same hotel (The Royal York) that we spent Christmas at in 1979. We did it to make this Christmas extra special and memorable, knowing it would be our last with our mother. It was AMAZING and it was also amazing in 1979 - that year, my mother got my brother and I skis for Christmas. Here's a picture that I had NEVER seen before (it's a slide - who looks at slides?), but found it when I was compiling pictures for my mom's memorial. It's my brother. Look at the SKIS!!!

Chills? Oh my GOD this gives me goosebumps... I'm pretty sure that this was my mom's way of telling me she was communicating with me. 

OK... back to the reading. 

Julie: I see that you're going to be signing some papers in a couple of weeks? Legal stuff? 

Me: Well, I'm listing my house soon... 

Julie: I see that you're going somewhere. A trip. In about two months. You're going to be driving. It's a long trip. Are you moving there?

Me: (OMFG) Yes, we're going to Toronto in April. We'll stay there while my husband is working there. We have a house there.  

Julie: I see really good energy for you in two months.

Me: Will it take a while to sell our house?

Julie: It will take a little while. But I see you moving about 10 weeks after your trip. The new house is close to the one you have though. So close you could walk. I see a river in the back. You need a smaller house, the one you have is too big. 

Me: (OMFG again!) Yes, our house is on a river.We're selling it because it's too big.  

Julie: I see you moving in the fall. I also see you reconnecting. A reunion maybe. Don't deny any social invitations toward the end of summer, this is very important for you.

(I'm thinking BlogHer... Maybe I should but my ticket!!) 

Julie: Your mom wants you to know that she's ok. She's showing me something orange again. Burnt orange. And a bird house or a bird.... perhaps a blue jay. It can take a year for tangible messages to come through... but it could be this spring or maybe September... 

Me: (I have no clue what that could mean, but it's recorded for posterity now!) 

Julie: You need to be a helper of others. This is who you are meant to be in this life. You have teaching qualities. 

Me: (I'm in fundraising. Otherwise, I'm not sure what this means) 

Julie: I'm seeing your daughter again. Your mother loves her and is protecting her. She is surrounded by love and light. Your mother doesn't want you to be in pain. She wants you to know that she isn't in pain. She's no longer suffering. She's also very proud of you. You will have a more balanced life than she did. She is here with you. She wants you to know this is a new beginning for you. 

Julie and I chatted a little more and finished up our conversation. She told me to ask my mother to present herself to me in my dreams that night. So I did that. And I did dream of her. I saw her over my shoulder as I looked in the mirror. She looked worried about me. She waved. I haven't seen her since. 

Overall I'm blown away by my experience. Julie knew so many random details of my life that you just can't guess... I found it difficult to write this... I'm not doing the reading justice at all - there are many other little intricacies that I didn't capture properly. I walked away feeling very overwhelmed and touched and lucky to have had the chance to talk to Julie. I also want to call her again and check in. 

I called as a skeptic, but I can honestly say that was the most incredible and accurate psychic experience I've ever had. 

Thanks Cecily. Thank you Psychic Source. 

Most of all, thank you Julie. I really feel like I had a chance to communicate with my mom. And that is priceless. 

I was somewhat anticipating that, but I could do without the addition to my already too full plate. My doctor has been telling me I need to be on stress leave for months. Caring for my mother the last few months and worry over her approaching death were hard on me and my doctor thought it best I take the time to be with her. Because of my job, I didn't; I bitterly regret that. Once she died, and following a doctor visit turned emergency room hospital check for my sky high blood pressure, my doctor stopped taking no for an answer and wrote my a letter to give to my employer instructing I needed to be off for three weeks. At least. That was two weeks ago. It's still in my hand bag.

Being so close to the end of my term (March 31) it seemed that taking time off would do more harm than good. So I've been bottling my stress and burying my grief all so I don't get labeled as a whacko. Because I'm not dammit! I'm just a human being that is overwhelmed and sad because I lost the only parent I've had since I was 6 and my best friend. The one person that really *gets* me; the only person who I know loves me without condition or in spite of myself. There is a gaping crater of a hole in my life where she once was and where she should still be. Because we lived together, my house feels empty and enormous and cold. And sad. And the lousy 5 days berevement leave that by policy should be enough to get past the sadness. It's just not. It doesn't even come fucking close.

But yet I come to work and I put on my brave face and I try. I do it because I feel both responsiblity and obligation, but I'm also dedicated to doing a good job. This project I'm working on has had it's ups and far too many downs to count really, but I've really wanted to make a difference. Sometimes I feel I have, other times I've felt I'm spinning my wheels. Recently I've actually felt a bit like a scapegoat or a lamb being led to the slaughter. I'm the only person in my department so when there is a problem reaching the big picture goal, guess who gets to wear it? Yeah, I'm guessing me too. There are many other facets to this project though that serve as walls rather than obsticles in my position, facets that others are responsible for, and others that are beyond anyone's control, but at the end of the day, I fear that it will just be easier to blame me. So I do what I can, hoping I can succeed or at least finish with dignity and a thank you for a valiant effort.

However, a little bird told me yesterday that my position won't be renewed. I know some of it has to do with budget and some because a new position is being created that can absorb what's left to do (I've known about this for a while, so that part isn't really a surprise). What's sad though, is that I'm not going to be given any notice. My contract is just going to expire. And there's the rub you see... to me, that's just lack of common decency. I have worked hard the last three years and no goodbye or thank you is just insulting.

I stupidly put this job first on my list when my mother was dying and ignored my doctor when she said my health was more important. I did those things because I was dedicated; to my job, to my career, to my community. And now... now, I find out in the end that none of that matters. It's coming down to brass tacks and numbers and blame I suppose. And I guess I just don't matter. I feel that nothing I have accomplished is appreciated and I don't feel valued.

I will bounce back, and I will leave this job with my head held high and know that as I continue to put forward my best effort until March 31st that I am a better person because of it and those who feel I do not deserve the dignity and respect of a couple of weeks notice are the same people who like to throw stones from their glass houses. I have a feeling that others aside from myself see that too. At least I hope so.

And I suppose in about 7 weeks, I'll finally have the chance to breathe and take that needed stress leave. 

My beautiful and brave mother lost her battle with cancer on December 30th. I will never be the same; I am broken.

I'm very proud and comforted that we all made it to Toronto and fulfilled my mother's dying desire to spend this Christmas with her family. She was so brave and all but forced herself to survive the holidays.

She was able to take my daughter to the ballet, spend time with family and best friends. It was almost perfect. The only thing that put a damper on the holiday was the fact she was so very sick. She was happy to be surrouned by love though.

The oncology appointment confirmed our worst fears. She would not qualify for trials and she was too weak for any treatment. She was encouraged to go home to be with family. So I took her home early.

Our flight left at 8am on Thursday morning. I arranged for paramedics to meet us at the airport for transfer to the hospital, on advice of paliative care. What a good idea that proved to be. My mother was very confused and not strong enough to endure the 2 hour plane ride and then a 2 hour drive in a car.

The doctor at the hospital told me he'd keep her comfortable and that it would not be much longer. He guessed about a week. She died at 11:45 that night.

I am grateful that I could hold her hand while she passed. I'm glad she wasn't alone. Moments before her last breath, I told her she didn't need to be afraid (she was extremely restless), I told her that she was the bravest woman I'd ever known... that she did a great job over Christmas and I thanked her for that. I told her that I was proud to be her daughter and that she didn't need to fight anymore if she didn't want to. "I'll be ok" I said. I'll make sure Michael is ok. I told her we all loved her. She settled while I talked to her. I told that to the nurse as she came in to give my mom more morphine. She took a few soft and gentle breaths and then she was gone.

And I have been a mess ever since.

I'm grappling with this loss and I miss my mom terribly. I ache for her. I don't know how to exist without her here. 

I woke early in the morning sensing something was wrong and found her crying in her bed. She couldn't breathe right. I told her I was taking her to the hospital. Now. 

What unfolded over the next four days was nothing short of terrible and nerve wracking. 

X-ray showed a backed up bowel, blood tests showed something wonky with her liver. She was admitted in an effort to discover just what was causing this new pain and try another route to manage her pain. 

The percocet really wasn't cutting it. 

Enter morphine and the charming side effects of nausea and constipation. 

My mom was given laxatives and little promise that she'd beon her planned flight to Toronto on Sunday. Everyone seemed to be striving toward that goal though. 

I wasn't too scared until Saturday morning. Another round of blood work, the pain, incessant gagging and vomiting indicated that a CT scan was needed. Worries were: gall stones; bowel obstruction and spread of the cancer. My mom was desperate to get to Toronto. I prayed that whatever it was, it wouldn't be something that needed surgery or otherwise threaten her plans. For some time, my mom has looked at this trip as a final pilgrimage. She had to go. 

On Saturday evening, our worst fears were confirmed though. The cancer is in her liver. Quite prolifically too. What's astounding to me is that her organs were clear in October. Now her liver is full of cancer. 

So, the doctor asked what she wanted to do and my mom did just what she wanted; she left for Toronto last night.

And I've been a lost mess ever since.

I don't get there until Thursday and my mother's friend told me today that she's refusing to eat anything. What's worse is, she was asleep when I called and I won't feel any better until I talk to HER.

I know exactly where my mom is at and I'm trying to remain calm and not assume things are slipping even more on the opinion of her friend. This stuff is all new to her... I will know when to worry, but I need to talk to her first.

I hope she's just worn out from all the drama the last few days.

I can't wait to get there. To hug her and help her have a really great Christmas with her family. Her one special wish.

Send strength, courage and positive healing energy please. We've never needed it more.  

Sadly, I know that I couldn't have possibly disappointed them. Because I am a downer right now. It's why I've been avoiding Twitter. It's why only a handful of people come here to read. My world is horrible right now and this is the place I come to vent, to cry and to unload. It has become a hot bed of misery and depression. 

I have no idea when that is going to change either. If anything, it will likely get worse before it gets better. In fact, the worse has already begun. The drug trial my mother was hoping to get into was just closed this week (PLX4032). Her limited treatment options just became even more limited. To make matters worse, it now feels that she's wasted months on that trial, suffering without treatment; all the while, the cancer has been gaining ground.

One step forward, two steps back.

How do you balance a need to be positive with the need to be realistic? I think I'm doing ok in that department, but the dance is growing more complicated and I'm stating to trip over my two left feet.

"OK one more time from the top people! ...5..6..7..8.. and happy thoughts and step ball change and deal with symptoms and lift! Lift! And 1 and 2 and make some plans and 3 and 4 and deal with setba.... STOP! HOLD IT, HOLD IT! Um, Karen you missed that step AGAIN! You need to pay attention! Jeezus, we will never be ready at this rate!"

I'm struggling with focus. Work, housework, juggling mountains of relentless bills with decimally challenged pay cheques, looking after family, managing details and doctors and researching treatments and remembering to shower and trying to look capable; like I'm doing it well and with bravery and grace and courage. But inside I'm a ball of tangled thorny vines and in truth, all of the to-do's are being done marginally at best and some keep getting pushed so far down the list that they fall off into the abyss.  And I don't care. And that my friends is scaring me. 

The only thing keeping me sane these days is knowing I will be leaving for Toronto in 3 weeks. This Christmas has a lot to live up to. I hope it doesn't implode from the pressure. I can't wait to spend 9 blissful days focusing on what matters most. I'm refusing to worry about any of the noise over Christmas. On December 23rd, Downerville will be closed for much needed refueling and celebration with my family, my heart, my everything.

I just hope I can keep it together until then. 

Only I won't be the one that dies. 

It will be my mother. 

And I'm helpless to do anything about it.

The sand falls. 

Yet, unlike Dorothy, there is no one to rescue me and fix my mother. I won't be able to break the spell by smashing the hourglass on the ground. 

And for as much as I want this to all be a dream, it is horribly real.

So I am fumbling and stumbling, trying to figure out a way to cope with the fact that my mother... my best friend and confidant is dying. I grapple with that every day, all the while doing my best to be strong for her; to be a good daughter. I want to be just what she needs. I want to get my part right. 

And still, the sand keeps falling. I can only watch. 

I try to savor and treasure every moment like a gift. Because it is. But to be honest, we spend so much time together doing absolutely nothing and I feel like it's a travesty. It's a crime that I'm not making each moment a polaroid memory to get me through the hard times ahead. I feel like I'm wasting time.

And the sand keeps falling.

There are stories to be written, recipes to glean, truths and secrets to be told in hundreds of photos that until now have sat randomly in two wooden boxes; the kind of place we all suitably leave our memories until we need them; until our hearts are broken. 

There is so much to do somewhere between now and when that last grain of sand finally crushes my soul with it's weight; and yet I can't find the energy or the strength to properly preserve and capture the essence of my mother. Perhaps it is because I know it will be impossible. Perhaps  it is because I know that losing her will forever change me and no matter how hard I try, I won't ever be able to document and archive her being, her hugs... Her.  

For her, I need sit with her and hold her hand so she knows she's not alone. That is important. But for me, for her legacy, I have to do what I can to keep as much of her here as possible; even if it's only on paper. That is important too. Because when the sand is gone and I'm sifting through all the remnants of her life wishing hopelessly for more time, I need to know that I did my best to know all I can about her. She won't be able to answer all of my questions then.

I only have now; I only have this grain of sand.