March | 2022 | That Woman's Weblog

NOTE: It is said that time heals and spring and new life replaces the dark dreary days of winter. Those of the sisterhood of grief , especially those who have lost a soul and child of their body and heart, winter never ends. You are still lost in those days , you see glimpses of life and happiness, but you are never again whole. You see when you lose your child you and the person you were – leaves with them – when they draw their last breath.

You don’t even look the same, you may be thinner, put on weight , age more quickly, your eyes smart with too many tears, lines appear around your eyes and mouth , not the lines of age but of pain. You are wary , looking out for those moments that assault you as you go about your daily routine. Oh you smile at the correct moments, you try to join in with life , but no matter the days, months even years the only thing that gets better is you can hide the heart break just a bit better. You have learned who you can reach out , who doesn’t flinch when you want to talk about you child. Those who are patient and those who are understanding because they too are members of the Sisterhood of Grief.

I wrote the following five months after Christopher passed from this world. And all these years later nothing has changed…… Photo Credit – Virginia Mak

The Sisterhood

It was Thanksgiving. I was alone with Chris, everyone was with family . I sat by his bedside , he couldn’t talk a lot due to the oxygen mask , I read, although I had no idea what I was reading . I would, when he closed his eyes, drink in every part of my son, the contours of his face , his hands on the the sheet, his arms strong still listened to every breath he took , movement, sound he made. That day, the sun shone in the window, and the beard he had been growing had become more pronounced.

He grew the facial hair after he lost all of his hair due to the horrendous chemo sessions and stem cell transplants. I think he did so because it was a sign his body was trying to get back to normalcy. The last time he and his Nana were together at Nikki’s she stroked his face and the beginnings of his beard and said :

Chris you are truly my Viking and that is how I will think of you , brave and golden.

I was filling my memory of my son, every feature , nuance and aspect of my son that morning of Thanksgiving. The sunlight caught his face and the golden red of his beard . My Viking.

I didn’t want him to see me lose it so I excused myself and went to the waiting room. Thankfully there was no one there and I wept with the pain of “WHY”?????????????

When I finally pulled myself together and returned to the room he was sleeping . I sat quietly, hardly daring to breathe, I had always been told that sleep is how the body heals. I was clutching at anything I could find to give me hope, willing whatever strength I had to somehow be miraculously given to him by some magical umbilical chord of life.

He woke , pulled down his oxygen mask and asked for a sip of water. Those were the last words he spoke to to me , not his last words, but the last thing he ever asked of me . I held the bottle of water with the hospital straw , he took a small sip and immediately started choking….

All Hell broke loose nurses cand people came rushing into the room and someone grabbed hold of my arm and ushered me out into the still empty waiting room. I didn’t know what was happening, I knew it wasn’t good….. The “code blue ” over the pa system. Drs., interns , nurses came rushing along the corridor and then two technicians with a ventilator .

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think I was frozen , everything was falling away from me , no-one to hold me up, no where to go , what should I do ?,

WHY?????????? for God’s sake why……… NOOOOOOO this can’t happen…… . I was shaking with cold and tears.

After what seemed an eternity , one of Chris nurses came out to the waiting room with a cup of hot chocolate, she said

“it is OK he has been put on the vent to help him breathe, he has been sedated , the Dr. will be out in a moment drink this “

But you see, I knew from that first day of diagnosis all through

the best cancer to have, just 6 rounds of Chemo, 95 percent cure rate ,

because I had always known that damned cancer was winning. I had fought down my knowing and fears, I had embraced hope, prayers , medicines, trials , anything to fight the obscenity of death that was coming for my son. I had seen the fear on his face as they all came rushing in, the silent tears that fell from his eyes, and I heard his last words he ever spoke……....

I tried to call someone, anyone but I couldn’t make my fingers work or my brain, I don’t remember breathing , I stood there thinking this must be what shock is.

Finally the Dr. came in , I will call her Dr. RA, hers is the only name I remember from that day. The first thing she said was

“Would you like a priest ?”

No! I don’t want a damned priest , what good is he, to give me comfort! blessings !NO I want someone to stop my son dying….. not religious platitudes that don’t mean a thing.

I didn’t say that out loud , all I could manage was

No, is Chris critical.

She looked at me and said:

Oh! he has been critical since he came in , has no-one mentioned that to you , he is dying.

Then she left. The nurse came back to check on me and helped me call Angela, my husband and my son in law.

Angela was the first to arrive, with her sister,

Is he dead?

I shook my head and she went into the ICU , Her sister chatted on about how she broke the speed limit to get there. And then the clan of Lombardi arrived with cold mashed potatoes, congealed gravy, turkey and pumpkin pie, chatting about leftovers would be good in the microwave if this was going to be a long night …….. and I thought.. who are these awful people chatting and laughing whilst my son is dying about leftovers and time.

Time no longer existed in my world it had stopped…………

THIS be HELL …. I must have died……………………………. could have been the only explanation

To be continued………………..

March 3, 2022 at 1:06 pm 3 comments

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