I don't like to write very much about personal things on my blog, but I feel my mother deserves a special mention today. Eight years ago today she passed away.
My main feeling today, besides a degree of sorrow, is amazement at how quickly the time has passed. Two regrets are that my mum never got to see my daughters, her granddaughters; in fact neither of them was conceived until after her death, and I also never got the chance to say a proper farewell. Perhaps very few of us are fortunate to be able to do that with the passing of our loved ones. My mother did not die a sudden death, in the manner of an unforeseen accident for example, but the severity and advancement of her illness took us all by surprise.
My mum died from complications resulting from COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. For those of you who need to google it, it is essentially a lung disease, preventing airflow to the lungs, a gradual process. It is caused primarily from heavy smoking. Even though my mother gave up smoking a good 15 years before her death, the damage had already been done. The worst thing for her was the chronic shortness of breath and the gradual limitation in her lifestyle. If you've ever had a panic attack and experienced the fear that comes with that feeling of chest constriction and inability to breath, imagine my mother feeling a bit like that every day, except each day it got a little bit worse. Although we knew she had the disease and that her life was likely to be shortened, we didn't expect the speed at which it happened in the end, at the age of 65. By the time I flew over to be with my family at her bedside, she was in a coma, which lasted for a week, before she breathed her last. I spoke to her a lot in her comatose state, but I cannot be certain that she really heard or understood my words. I can only hope and believe that she did.
I dedicate today's post to my mother's life. She had her shortcomings, but one thing I never doubted was that she loved me and my family with all her heart.