What it Really Feels Like To Wait For Someone To Die

It’s as horrible as it sounds

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Pixabay

If you missed the news, Sunday I received a call from a sister back in Canada letting me know mom is on her way ‘home’. You can read the story about it here:

So now, it really is just a matter of days or hours. It could happen at any time. No one knows. I figured mom would just have a heart attack or die in her sleep one day.

I just figured one day I’d get a call from Canada saying ‘mom died in her sleep last night’ and that would be it. I mean, don’t we all wanna die like that anyway? I sure as fuck do.

Anyway, it appears this isn’t going to be the case with mom. Stubborn old girl that she is. She’s on death’s doorstep now and I wish someone would hurry up and open the door for her (yo, God, anytime now).

She hasn’t eaten or drank anything for 6 days now. My sister was nice enough to do a Facetime with me so I could see her. Yup. She looks dead. Her thighs are the size of my arms, and I’m a scrawny little fucker.

So now we wait. And the waiting is painful. Trust me on that. I don’t wish this on anyone and for all of you who are going through, have had to go through or will be going through this, my prayers are with you. ❤

It’s fucking brutal.

All the notification sounds are now on on my phone. Every ding or dong or chirp or chime has me scrambling for my phone to look. I am messaging my sisters throughout the day as much as I can to check in.

I don’t want to leave the house in case I happen to be in the market doing my shopping and the call comes in. How will I be able to handle it, alone, paying for spinach, knowing that my mom just died?

I’m trying to stay focused on work and be productive but lemme tell ya, it’s hella hard.

It feels like every single muscle and nerve in your body are on fire. The physical part is really hard to explain. It’s tense but more like tension on steroids. You can almost feel everything inside of you vibrating but like on fire.

( I hope someone who has been through this or going through this can chime in and describe the physical feeling part)

You don’t want to laugh or joke or have fun because at any second the call could come in and then you feel guilty for having so much fun and enjoying life while someone close to you just took their last breath.

So you try not to be happy. Or smile. Because of the guilt.

While working, the Facebook tab is open and you are constantly looking up at it for a new notification from anyone in your family. You can’t close the tab because you might miss it. It.must.stay.opened.

You have this knot in your stomach all the time. It’s a constant and never goes away. Breathing is almost, …. well that part is hard to explain too. It’s like you just can’t let out a sigh or breathe deeply or normally. It’s tense breathing. The same tension your muscles and nerves feel.

There is no relaxing anything or any part of your body. You feel like a tightly wound up doll waiting for someone to pull the string so you can move again, freely, and breathe.

Sleeping is a joke. You wake up every half hour to check your phone and notifications to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

Ya. It’s fucking brutal.

And then you try to prepare yourself for the final call while your body and mind is going through this turmoil. Because you need to add more chaos to the mix.

The worst part for me is I’m alone here (I’m not looking for pity, I promise). I have no family here. My sister checks in and lets me know all the aunts and uncles and cousins are stopping by daily to visit mom.

I’m happy about that. And sad.

Because I’m here. In Guatemala. Alone. Feeling guilty. And really fucking lonely.

Shouldn’t I be there? I loved my mom a fuck of a lot more than I loved my dad and I was there when he died.

Shouldn’t I be there for the woman who loved me more than life itself? Will she understand that I can’t be with her right now?

Shouldn’t I be there with my sisters and aunts and uncles to say goodbye to mom?

So, ya. It’s fucking brutal.

Physically, emotionally and mentally. I keep talking to God. Please. Hurry. I can’t take another day like this. Please.

I’ll walk on eggshells for who knows how much longer and desperately try to take my mind off of things (sure, good luck with that iva).

And I wait here, alone, for the final call. I wait here for my mom to die. I wait here for the woman who gave me life, to take her last breath.

It’s fucking brutal.

Peace and Love

xo iva xo

Written by

Self help Guru|Expat|Website: https://amazingmemovement.com/ mini self help eBook series here: https://books.amazingmemovement.com/

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