Sharing Sadness from the Past?

I think I got used to telling people my sad life story.

Found my Dad passed away.
Mom was very sick and I took care of her the last 4 years of her life.
She passed away - my reason for living.
Then my biological Dad passed away.
I'm only child, so now I am have no one left.

It's a real sad, drab story.  I live alone, no roommate, or siblings and now no relatives left.

Just me.

Luckily I have God and my love (Lily, a ferocious white pitbull).

But as I tell my sob story to others, they all show empathy and can relate sometimes on some level.  Want to hug me (even strangers), want to adopt me, etc.  They are pained by my heartbreaks.

And then one day I was swapping sad stories with a lady I had just met at dinner and she finally says, "stop, there's really not more is there?  That's enough sad talk."

It dawned on me right then and there that while I have been eager to share my woes and my "look at all the bad things that have happened to me" stories with others, maybe they don't want to hear it.

Maybe, just maybe, they would rather I talk about what a loving child I was, or how I was raised in the Hill Country along the Frio River, or that I have a great job that I love, or that I'm a State and National Billiards Champion.

All these years of pain all I wanted to do was share my heartache.  Get some sympathy or empathy, I guess.  It was what I lived and breathed every day so it was what I wanted to talk about.  Instead, it makes sense: why would anyone want to hear about so much pain?

Sure, share with me your heartache and I can relate with all that has happened in my life.  But what if we swap awesome stories instead?  What if I never even mention how horrible my holidays are again to anyone?  What if I just share all the blessings in my life and STOP with the insistent sharing of all the loss and deaths and sadness for the last 7 years?

Some Choices are no Accident

When I was given the worst news of my life, that my Mom was not going to live much longer, and she would need to be moved to hospice, I was sitting there alone having to fill out paperwork and make decisions that at the time were a blur.

The lady that met with me was SUPER nice and supportive as she could be to a stranger.

She asked me, "Where do you want to move your Mom?"

"What?"  I asked her through tears, and a running nose, and a shy, confused voice.

I was not really understanding the question.

She said that there were two hospice locations.  Once was right next door to the hospital, the other was in downtown Fort Worth.

I said, "The one next door please," because I figured it would be easier on my Mom (even though she wasn't conscious), and because this way my neighbors could visit her easily, also.

Then she shares, "Well, just so you know all the rooms are filled there, but there may be an opening by tomorrow."

Huh?

I thought about it and said, "Well, then we will have to move her to the one downtown.  Can you give me the address and directions please?"

I didn't want my mom to stay any longer in this cold, lonely hospital than she had to.

The nice lady told me it would be a few hours before transportation came and picked up my Mom to take her to the hospice location downtown.

I spent time with Mom and eventually they came to get her.  I ran home quickly to get some things and then arrived ahead of Mom at the location.  I wanted to be there waiting on her and didn't want her to be alone one single minute.  Even though, again, she wasn't even awake and could not longer talk to me or even communicate in any way with me, I still didn't want her to arrive alone to this new place. 

I arrived at the place about 4pm, and sat with my Mom, talked to her, held her hand, cried my little heart out for hours.  About 9:45pm, Mom took her last breath.  It was the hardest thing to witness, but it was BEAUTIFUL because I was there by her side.

I was the love of her life.  And that was her wish - for her to be pain-free in hospice with me by her side.

I left the place in a blur. 

Of course I took off from work for a few days and only came in finally because I couldn't stand to be in the house alone anymore.

I got to my desk, started to lazily check email.  Within minutes, I started to daydream.  I looked out my window and just stared toward the window, not really looking at anything.

Then something caught my eye.

OH MY GOD.

I can see from my desk, right out my window, the building where my Mom was resting peaceful when she passed!

You might think this is morbid, but it is not.  It's the last place my Mom and I were together.  Just her and I.  Peaceful.  Beautiful.

I actually drive by this building a lot I would find out in the next two years.  Every time I go to the movies, I drive by it.  Every time I go get my nails done, I drive by it.

It is on my way to this little area called Montgomery Plaza and I go there for different things at least once a month or more.

Every time I drive by, I blow my Mom a kiss.  Every time.

Every time I drive by, I tear up.  Every time.

On my birthday just last month I happened to drive by the building that day and it made me smile and cry, because I miss her so much (esp on special occasions).

I am now thankful that other place was full.  I would never in a million years would have know beforehand that this building was visible from my office.  But I am thankful.  And blessed.

I LOVE YOU, MOM!!