Just lost my mom three days ago. It was a six-week battle with leukemia. Ultimately she just couldn't handle the intense chemo. I'm sitting here feeling a level of Devastation, isolation, loneliness, emptiness, pointlessness, that is unfathomable. I can't find a comfortable place to sit or stand. I spend much of my time pacing back and forth Just talking to myself out loud. I'm a 51 year old male and I feel like an absolutely terrified lost four year old child. She was a single mom and my whole life was pretty much just me and her. I really enjoyed your essay and can really relate to it.
Smith '78 here. I am so moved by your essay, the deep love for your mother, all the details. I'm currently visiting my nearly 101 year old mother. I feel that, as close as we are and always have been, I've taken my mother as much for granted as the air I breathe, and the fear looms that I won't quite know how to be myself without her. Every precious word, glance , touch reminds me that she can't stay forever.
Just lost my mom three days ago. It was a six-week battle with leukemia. Ultimately she just couldn't handle the intense chemo. I'm sitting here feeling a level of Devastation, isolation, loneliness, emptiness, pointlessness, that is unfathomable. I can't find a comfortable place to sit or stand. I spend much of my time pacing back and forth Just talking to myself out loud. I'm a 51 year old male and I feel like an absolutely terrified lost four year old child. She was a single mom and my whole life was pretty much just me and her. I really enjoyed your essay and can really relate to it.
Smith '78 here. I am so moved by your essay, the deep love for your mother, all the details. I'm currently visiting my nearly 101 year old mother. I feel that, as close as we are and always have been, I've taken my mother as much for granted as the air I breathe, and the fear looms that I won't quite know how to be myself without her. Every precious word, glance , touch reminds me that she can't stay forever.