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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 412072" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>Steely, don't get huffy. Your mother sounds like she's in denial. I think you need to be there. If it would be too much - so what? YOU need to see him. </p><p></p><p>I remember going through this with my own father. He was a fighter, he had been at death's door a few times and refused to go through. I saw him twice in the two years before he died, each time for only a few minutes. The first time, he was in a Sydney hospital, gravely ill. Not expected to survive. But he did and was flown back to the country. Over the next two years he would not talk about his dying at all, not to us. We could talk about the weather, we could talk about family, we could even ask how he was, but we could not discuss anything real. husband & I were in the area and made a special extra trip to go see him (he as back in hospital at the time) and simply because we dropped in, he began to fret that he was sicker than the doctors were telling him. I wanted to tell him I loved him, to say all the things I needed to say, but a talkative nurse was sitting there on her break and keeping the conversation trivial and light. I couldn't ask her to leave, Dad was happy chatting. Also, it would have seemed like he was sicker than he was, to have me ask the nurse to leave just so I could say what I needed to say - I had to think about his needs right then.</p><p></p><p>So I never saw him again. He died a year later, I was unable to get back to see him. So I wrote him a letter. I said in the letter, "Sometimes it's easier to put our feelings in writing than in person or over the phone." Dad really valued that letter. He rang to say so, but again wouldn't really talk about feelings over the phone. I knew I had reached him and said what I needed to, and I knew he appreciated it. That was as much as we would ever be able to do.</p><p></p><p>When he died there were two sisters and a brother there, plus Mum. My sister J rushed up to be with him, but he would have barely known she was there. My mother held his hand, also keeping a finger on his pulse. I'm told that the pulse just slowed until you couldn't tell whether it had stopped, or was just taking a longer time before the next beat. You never know the point of death in this case - it's just that eventually, the next pulse beat just fails to happen. Somewhere in the interval, he had died. Peacefully, as he had needed after such a fight.</p><p></p><p>I didn't see my mother, either, and I regret that too. But I did talk to her a week before. I didn't realise when I talked to her that she had decided to stop fighting and let herself die. A brave choice, given the circumstances. But she was distant during the phone call, I sensed she was already looking ahead and was not paying much attention to my chatter about the kids and what we were all doing. I think there were things she wanted to say, but did not. However, she had said them at many other times over the years.</p><p></p><p>Steely, think abut what you will meet when you go there. What your parents will be like, how they will be handling things. Good or bad. Coping with the mundane, or actually confronting te emotions of needing to say goodbye. I suspect that your mother is just plodding form day to day keeping things light and inconsequential. Your arrival will force them to face his death, and sometimes we avoid this because we feel really bad if we begin to grieve too early, before the person has died. We feel disloyal, so we deny the problem until it's too late to say what we need to say. Your mother may be only just holding herself together, and scared that your arrival will be the last straw for her. Rocking the boat, making her face his impending death.</p><p></p><p>Think about it. Then make your decision. You do have a right to be there, but you may need to go in gently. Have fun, talk about good times, help your mother get dinner. But don't ease her burden unless she asks you - probably she needs to do this, to spend every last possible minute working for hi, supporting him. Because soon she will never be able to do it again.</p><p></p><p>Afterwards is when your mother will really need your support. If you are already there, you can ease her load.</p><p></p><p>It would have been good if we could have involved either of our parents in planning their funeral. But to ask them to do so would have seemed to them like we were giving up on them. It's a generational thing. So if you go, when you go, let them set the pace. It will be frustrating (very) in one way, but knowing you were there will be a valuable gift you give to yourself for the rest of your life.</p><p></p><p>Marg</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 412072, member: 1991"] Steely, don't get huffy. Your mother sounds like she's in denial. I think you need to be there. If it would be too much - so what? YOU need to see him. I remember going through this with my own father. He was a fighter, he had been at death's door a few times and refused to go through. I saw him twice in the two years before he died, each time for only a few minutes. The first time, he was in a Sydney hospital, gravely ill. Not expected to survive. But he did and was flown back to the country. Over the next two years he would not talk about his dying at all, not to us. We could talk about the weather, we could talk about family, we could even ask how he was, but we could not discuss anything real. husband & I were in the area and made a special extra trip to go see him (he as back in hospital at the time) and simply because we dropped in, he began to fret that he was sicker than the doctors were telling him. I wanted to tell him I loved him, to say all the things I needed to say, but a talkative nurse was sitting there on her break and keeping the conversation trivial and light. I couldn't ask her to leave, Dad was happy chatting. Also, it would have seemed like he was sicker than he was, to have me ask the nurse to leave just so I could say what I needed to say - I had to think about his needs right then. So I never saw him again. He died a year later, I was unable to get back to see him. So I wrote him a letter. I said in the letter, "Sometimes it's easier to put our feelings in writing than in person or over the phone." Dad really valued that letter. He rang to say so, but again wouldn't really talk about feelings over the phone. I knew I had reached him and said what I needed to, and I knew he appreciated it. That was as much as we would ever be able to do. When he died there were two sisters and a brother there, plus Mum. My sister J rushed up to be with him, but he would have barely known she was there. My mother held his hand, also keeping a finger on his pulse. I'm told that the pulse just slowed until you couldn't tell whether it had stopped, or was just taking a longer time before the next beat. You never know the point of death in this case - it's just that eventually, the next pulse beat just fails to happen. Somewhere in the interval, he had died. Peacefully, as he had needed after such a fight. I didn't see my mother, either, and I regret that too. But I did talk to her a week before. I didn't realise when I talked to her that she had decided to stop fighting and let herself die. A brave choice, given the circumstances. But she was distant during the phone call, I sensed she was already looking ahead and was not paying much attention to my chatter about the kids and what we were all doing. I think there were things she wanted to say, but did not. However, she had said them at many other times over the years. Steely, think abut what you will meet when you go there. What your parents will be like, how they will be handling things. Good or bad. Coping with the mundane, or actually confronting te emotions of needing to say goodbye. I suspect that your mother is just plodding form day to day keeping things light and inconsequential. Your arrival will force them to face his death, and sometimes we avoid this because we feel really bad if we begin to grieve too early, before the person has died. We feel disloyal, so we deny the problem until it's too late to say what we need to say. Your mother may be only just holding herself together, and scared that your arrival will be the last straw for her. Rocking the boat, making her face his impending death. Think about it. Then make your decision. You do have a right to be there, but you may need to go in gently. Have fun, talk about good times, help your mother get dinner. But don't ease her burden unless she asks you - probably she needs to do this, to spend every last possible minute working for hi, supporting him. Because soon she will never be able to do it again. Afterwards is when your mother will really need your support. If you are already there, you can ease her load. It would have been good if we could have involved either of our parents in planning their funeral. But to ask them to do so would have seemed to them like we were giving up on them. It's a generational thing. So if you go, when you go, let them set the pace. It will be frustrating (very) in one way, but knowing you were there will be a valuable gift you give to yourself for the rest of your life. Marg [/QUOTE]
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