On this date, just last year, my mother "basically" took her own life.
My mother and father had one of those fairytale weddings...sorta.
Dad was born in 1935 and mom in 1942. When dad gratuated high school, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. He did his 4 years and returned home, where he then met and fell in love with the woman who would later be his wife and the mother of his three sons, with yours truly being the baby of the three.
Dad grew up like most young men of that era, working on and driving muscle cars, wearing leather jackets and listening to do-wop records. Too young for Korea, too old for Vietnam. Life in the 1950s was grand.
But mom's life wasn't very pleasant. First, her mother ran off with a door to door salesman and her father left mom and her baby sister, my dear aunt Glenda
to live with his mother, their grandmother.
Like most older people in 1950s, her grandmother survived the depression and hard living, which made her mean, hard and cynical beyond belief. She was abusive to her grand daughters both physically and mentally. Life with her was a living hell.
A few years later, dad meets mom when he was a 24 year old mechanic and she was a 17 year old carhop at the local drive in. They strike up a friendship which leads to something else, which eventually leads to marriage and 3 boys.
Mom and dad had an awesome relationship. Growing up, neither were abusive to each other in any way, shape or form. Quite the contrary. They were very, very loving parents. They had a passion for each other that most could never fathom. Dad worked nights at a gas station on the turnpike and mom ran the little corner market that we owned. It was there where at 4 years old, I stood on a milk crate, learned to wait on customers, run the register, make change and say "thank you - come again" before I even knew my ABCs.
As I got older, we took trips every summer to various locations. Disneyland, grand canyon, Yellowstone national park, Seattle, Las Vegas, Florida. I played little league baseball, had parts in school plays, was in cub scouts, went to movies BY MYSELF. Yeah...it was a great life.
Fast forward to summer or 2016...
Dad is diagnosed with prostate cancer.
He fights the good fight for almost 2 years, then in early April of 2018, he starts to go downhill. Knowing that her husband of 58 years is knocking on death's door, mom starts thinking about a future and a life without her partner and best friend and obviously can't see her without him.
Sadly, but luckily in her eyes, mom contracts a urinary track infection about the middle of May. Thinking this could be her way out, she declines medical attention and, naturally, the UTI goes septic.
Unknowingly to any of us, she had a DNR with her physician. We found this out when we took her to the ER and they basically sent us back for her to die. This was on June the 3rd. A week later, she took her last breath.
Sadly, this absolutely devastated my father. The cancer had progressively gotten worse and he too died 11 days later.
I had a good life with my parents. I was sheltered from lots of things growing up and I probably had a better life than I deserved. We took lots of trips when I was young. I always had a great Christmas and birthdays were the best.
I'm still pissed at my mother for what she did, but I'm sure she had her reasons. Whatever they were, I hope her and dad are together and happy, happy, happy.
I miss them both everyday.
My mother and father had one of those fairytale weddings...sorta.
Dad was born in 1935 and mom in 1942. When dad gratuated high school, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. He did his 4 years and returned home, where he then met and fell in love with the woman who would later be his wife and the mother of his three sons, with yours truly being the baby of the three.
Dad grew up like most young men of that era, working on and driving muscle cars, wearing leather jackets and listening to do-wop records. Too young for Korea, too old for Vietnam. Life in the 1950s was grand.
But mom's life wasn't very pleasant. First, her mother ran off with a door to door salesman and her father left mom and her baby sister, my dear aunt Glenda
to live with his mother, their grandmother.Like most older people in 1950s, her grandmother survived the depression and hard living, which made her mean, hard and cynical beyond belief. She was abusive to her grand daughters both physically and mentally. Life with her was a living hell.
A few years later, dad meets mom when he was a 24 year old mechanic and she was a 17 year old carhop at the local drive in. They strike up a friendship which leads to something else, which eventually leads to marriage and 3 boys.
Mom and dad had an awesome relationship. Growing up, neither were abusive to each other in any way, shape or form. Quite the contrary. They were very, very loving parents. They had a passion for each other that most could never fathom. Dad worked nights at a gas station on the turnpike and mom ran the little corner market that we owned. It was there where at 4 years old, I stood on a milk crate, learned to wait on customers, run the register, make change and say "thank you - come again" before I even knew my ABCs.
As I got older, we took trips every summer to various locations. Disneyland, grand canyon, Yellowstone national park, Seattle, Las Vegas, Florida. I played little league baseball, had parts in school plays, was in cub scouts, went to movies BY MYSELF. Yeah...it was a great life.
Fast forward to summer or 2016...
Dad is diagnosed with prostate cancer.
He fights the good fight for almost 2 years, then in early April of 2018, he starts to go downhill. Knowing that her husband of 58 years is knocking on death's door, mom starts thinking about a future and a life without her partner and best friend and obviously can't see her without him.
Sadly, but luckily in her eyes, mom contracts a urinary track infection about the middle of May. Thinking this could be her way out, she declines medical attention and, naturally, the UTI goes septic.
Unknowingly to any of us, she had a DNR with her physician. We found this out when we took her to the ER and they basically sent us back for her to die. This was on June the 3rd. A week later, she took her last breath.
Sadly, this absolutely devastated my father. The cancer had progressively gotten worse and he too died 11 days later.
I had a good life with my parents. I was sheltered from lots of things growing up and I probably had a better life than I deserved. We took lots of trips when I was young. I always had a great Christmas and birthdays were the best.
I'm still pissed at my mother for what she did, but I'm sure she had her reasons. Whatever they were, I hope her and dad are together and happy, happy, happy.
I miss them both everyday.
