Heartbroken

I'm reminded tonight of that line from the movie "Terms of Endearment" that Shirley Maclaine says when her daughter Emma dies after a long illness. "This is so hard; I thought I would feel relief but this is so hard." That's exactly how I feel now that my mom has died.

We knew the prognosis was not good when she was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer back in April. All the online sites said the same thing--that there was virtually no chance for this type of cancer. "No cure" is what the doctors all said. After the round of chemo she had that almost did her in, she miraculously recovered well enough to go on a cruise to Alaska. I secretly started to have some hope. Then when she said, "maybe they got it with that chemo, I feel so great," with such conviction, I was right there agreeing that it might be so. This was just a week ago.

But time is never a friend. When I got the call this morning I called Delta airlines to try and exchange my ticket that I had already booked so I could be here to take care of her for the next two weeks. Delta said that the earliest I could get to Charleston was around 11pm. Driving the 9 hours instead would put me in Charleston around 8 pm so that's what I chose to do.

I was an hour from Charleston when my phone rang with Ray, my mother's companion, asking me where I was and to hurry because he didn't think she would last much longer. He called again 20 minutes later to tell me she was gone. I missed saying goodbye to my mother by a mere 40 minutes. No, time is not a friend.

I finally arrived at the hospital and Ray told me that her last word was "Robin" before she took her last breath.