I keep meaning to blog more and I think about it but I knew that I had to write this post and I really didn’t want to. It makes it all the more real. It’s so much easier to keep putting it off and pretending that things were completely normal – exactly the same as they were in mid-December but that’s a fantasy. Life has moved on. Darling Boy is getting bigger and that is a daily joy to celebrate. But. Things. Are. Different. A new normal that none of us were expecting.
On Christmas Day, MIL told us that she had uterine cancer. She played down the seriousness and told us not to worry too much. In January, she went to see the specialist with FIL and told us the surgery was scheduled for the 19th. She didn’t tell us how bad her cancer already was. When the surgery was finished, the surgeon described the cancer “like sand” throughout her body but he was hopeful that she would have a few more years with us. A week later, spots removed from her lungs during surgery were back and instead of waiting for recovery her chemo schedule was to begin immediately. It never happened. She developed sepsis and went into “comfort care” fancy marketing phrasing for hospice. Kinder maybe to us hoping but not as blunt.
She died Feb. 5th without ever leaving the hospital. I never got to see her again because of the distance to the hospital and her adamant stance that DB should be kept at home far away from anything he could catch. She didn’t want a service. We found that out the evening she died. Everything was taken care of and boom. Done. My dad always said that “funerals were for the living”. I never truly understand his meaning until now. No goodbyes are harder than a funeral. She’s just gone now and that’s the new normal. No more meeting mid week for lunch. Or hearing her voice say “It’s me!” when I answer the phone.
Apparently, she was sick for quite awhile and didn’t tell anyone – even FIL, who has been finding medication stashed around the house.