trying to be brave and stuff

(As if written on March 23, 2013) Momma,  We brought you home from the hospital today. It was around noon that the doctors and dad officially decided that Hospice care at home is the very best option for you. When I found out, I sat outside the hospital room on the floor crying and crying. That news hurt so much. I wanted them to do something else, like cure you. I sat by your bed at the hospital that afternoon as we waited for arrangements to be made. You were able to communicate and you understood what was happening, although you were loopy at times from medications. I do have a conversation on video of you and I interacting in the hospital. In the video, you tell me that you are so sorry you are sick and you want me to remember that when you are in Heaven you will not be in pain anymore.  It was around 5:00pm that you came home from the hospital. Your home before your homecoming. Hospice had delivered a bed and oxygen. You didn't want to sleep in the bed so you asked if you coul

Last year on the first day of Spring, I called an ambulance for my momma. I spent all day at the hospital until late at night when I went home to sleep. I'm guessing that I had no idea it was the first day of Spring.  I feel like that day was the beginning of the end of my mom's time on Earth. I guess one could look at it a bunch of different ways. When I think of this day in 2013, I see it as the first day she was actually dying. As humans, we are all living to die but everyday after March 20, 2013, just got a little worse. For the first three days she was in the hospital and I was so unsure of what was going to happen. I didn't ever want to hear what the doctor had to say because I jus thought it would never be good. I spent most of my days wandering the hospital halls listening to my iPod or sitting really close to my momma and just crying. I didn't want her to see me cry but I just couldn't help it.  Sometimes when I begin these posts, I have bigger ideas for th

I started my blog one year ago today. It is crazy all of the things that can happen in a year. When I started this blog, I had no idea that two days later my mom would be in the hospital as her body began to shut down. When I started this blog, I was certain that I had months left with her. I was going to spend hours each day talking with my momma about life and I was going to document everything. We all knew she wouldn't make it through the year so I wanted to soak up every minute I had left. I was young and naive and had I known the outcome, I would have grown up quicker and been more grateful, appreciative and loving of my Momma during the first 23 years of my existence. Such is life. We don't know what will happen in just a few days, or weeks, or months and years. Only God knows.  I began this blog with the purpose of discovering what it means to be brave through the death of my mommy. Here I am, 365 days later, and I still have no idea what that means. As I read back throu

Momma, It is now the eleventh month. March 8, 2014. As I am writing this I can hear the sounds of animals coming from the backyard, down by the creek. Spring is almost here. We've almost come full circle to the last day that I saw you.  I remember this same week last year. On March 4, 2013, you told us at breakfast that you had decided to stop chemo because it wasn't working. I looked at you said said, "how long?" You didn't know but thought probably a year, maybe even just nine months. You thought you would last more than six though. I remember sitting down and then just laying there with my face on the hardwood floor. I didn't want anyone to touch me or come near me. We were at Deb's house and I just wanted to go home, to leave, anything to get away from that news.  Mom, in about two weeks, this blog with be a year old. This is my 59th post on fearfully brave. There is so much I want to tell you in the next month but for now I will just updat