I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through, but please know that my thoughts are with you.

My mom was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Thus, since she was Irish, I'm sure she would have loved to hear the Irish Blessing read at the funeral:

"May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again,
May the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand."

At the funeral, the Irish flag was hung beside the casket.

I can't remember how many years ago it was that my mom began having dizzy spells that eventually warranted a visit to the doctor. The doctor said the dizziness was likely caused by some problems in the inner ear. He prescribed a nasal spray for it. A couple of years later, the doctor noticed some jumping in my mom's eye muscles. I'm surprised that the doctor didn't send my mom for any tests to see if there might be some deeper neurological problem. I thought about that yesterday morning. I thought, "I wonder if it could have been then that there were some abnormalities already beginning in her brain that could eventually turn into an aneurysm.".

This Saturday, it will have been a full month since my mom passed away. Even after that length of time, I'm still bursting into tears. My dad has been smoking like a chimney, and still cannot sleep well.

There is a definite family history of aneurysms. My mom had a brain aneurysm. My dad's first stroke that happened nine years ago was caused by a brain bleed. That brain bleed would of course likely have been an aneurysm in the brain. A CT scan showed a brain bleed that was about the size of a quarter, but was too deep in the brain to do surgery to get it stopped. Wonder of wonders, though, that the bleed managed to stop by itself. Years ago, he had some tests done on his back. These tests showed that he has some srthritis in the spine, and an abodminal aneursym. Now, another recent test on his back showed that the abdominal aneursym has begun to grow larger. A little over thirty years ago, when we got word that my grandmother (dad's mother) passed away, I was sure that I heard the cause of her death was an aortic aneurysm. Thus, we see that my brothers and I certainly have to listen to our bodies. That's not to say that we have to rush to the doctor every time we have a headache, but again, we're just going to have to listen to our bodies.

To those of you on here who follow the Russian Orthidox religion, I'd like to say that when Sergei Grinkov died, his wife Katya Gordeeva wrote in her book "My Sergei-a Love Story", that in the Russian Orthidox religion, there are two important days following a person's death-the nonth day and the fortieth day. In that religion, they teach that from the day of death to the ninth day, that person is still with us. Peopele will dream and think about that person very clearly. From the ninth day to the fortieth day, the person bgins a journey to the afterlife-heaven or hell. After the fortieth day, it's no longer necessary nor proper to think about the person all the time, as it means you are hanging onto him-her. I think that means that of course you must keep that person's memory alive in your heart, but you mustn't obsess about him-her, since that obsession won't bring him-her back. I think they mean, too, that if you obsess about that person, you might go crazy, and might need professional psychotherapy. If that's true about the fortieth day, then my mom is about half-way to fully completing her journey to the after-life. This coming Saturday, it will have been the 28th day since her death.

Hey Sweetie

I've been thinking about you and hope you are finding a few moments of peace.

Your mom was a huge part of your life, so of course you are going to miss her and be sad about her life on earth ending so soon. Be patient. Give yourself the time you need, but also consider how she would want you to live your life. You will honor her memory by being all she wanted you to be, by enjoying life the way she hoped you would.

I know this is hard for all of you. Not my business...but I do wish your dad could find a support system so he doesn't keep smoking so much. With his own history of stroke, this is dangerous.

I find that when I become overwhelmed with the sadness of losing our "brother" (it was 2 years last week, he would have been 22)and our daughter in law on Life support, the best thing I can do is exercise. It gives my brain a rest and I always feel better afterward, even if I have myself a good cry. Ballet is my personal choice for brain relief when I am sad, because it requires focus. Tap is my choice when I'm feeling angry...sometimes I actually dent the floor...but it is a good release. Many people like to run, or do yoga, or ride a bike. Maybe something physical might help you along on this journey.

Hugs to you.
xoxo

Keep On Dancing*

I think my dad and I are going through the depression stage of grieving right now. We haven't felt any anger. At least, I haven't felt anger. I've felt only sadness. I don't know if my dad, brothers, and sister-in-law have felt anger, though. If they have felt anger, they haven't mentioned it. However, my aunt asked me once, "Don't you ever feel angry? I still haven't fully worked through my grief since uncle (man's name) died.". That makes me wonder if my aunt may be going through the anger stage of grieving right now.

My sister-in-law has told me that my dad said he's proud of me that I'm continuing to go to my ballet and tap classes and to rehearsals for Nutcracker. When I begin dancing, or even singing a song, I still feel a degree of sadness. I think, "I hope dad's not thinking that I'm being inconsiderate of his sadness.". The farther I get into the dance class or rehearsal, and into singing the song, I begin to somewhat relax.

^Tapping until you dent the floor is of course a good way to release the anger you may be feeling at the moment. That degree of pounding the floor is a good way to get the anger out of your system.

One more thing-I'm sure that all of you have noticed the many typos in my comments on this thread. By the time I go back and read my comments, it's too late to edit my posts to correct the typos. I think, "Oh, those typos! Make sure to proofread your posts!". I think that shows how upset I am right now that I'm making so many typos.

Girl, ain't nobody looking at your typos! We understand. Don't you worry about that. You just focus on you and your family. Whenever you need, you just come on DDN and type away, typos and all. We're here for you.

I just wanted to let you know that I've been following this thread and honestly just haven't known what to say, but I wanted to let you know that I'm so sorry for your loss.

I think it's great that you have continued to dance, keeping some consistency in your life and doing something you love in the mist a tragedy like this is probably one of the best you can do. I obviously never met your mom, but I'm sure she would have wanted you to continue dancing Since you mentioned a figure skater, I'm sure you already know of Joannie Rochette. After her mother died she continued to skate, when I doubt anyone one of blamed her for withdrawing from the Olympics. I personally find her very inspirational, and I still tear up whenever I see this video of her short program. www.wat.tv . . . But following her on twitter, she seems to be happy and I think one day you will find happiness again and acceptance of what has happened. She's also part of a campaign to bring awareness for heart disease and women. Maybe one day when you are up for it you could be part of a campaign for aneurism awareness. You might find it comforting to be helping others in a similar situation. But for now, focus on yourself. You aren't superhuman and no one expects you to be. If dancing makes you feel better, definitely keep dancing. And again, I'm so sorry for your loss.

I have to say about my dad, too, that his voice has become much weaker in the past month since my mom died. His voice was already weakened enough by the first stroke he had nine years ago. I've had to ask him several times to repeat himself. Even my niece has had to ask him to repeat himself.

I read this thread when it only had a page one, and thought that I have nothing more to contribute but words that can't help when others have said them before me... But a while ago I had a huge death in my family, and tonight the memory of it came slap to the surface again, so I looked out that old thread, and realised how long ago it was.

Anyway, what I want to say is that if you find, a few months down the line, that something reminds you of your mom in a way that brings back that raw, fresh grief, we're all here, no matter when you're feeling like you miss her stronger than you ever have before.

She gave you life, I'm glad you still feel able to live it. I wish you and your family, especially your dad, all the luck in the world to get through the first year and beyond, into a new normality without her physical presence.

When a family member or friend dies, there are always little things we see or hear, no matter how many years may pass, that remind us of that person. My aunt says she's convinced that that's the person's way of trying to contact us. I'm sure that in the years to come. we all of us in the family will see and hear little things that will remind us of my mom. It's still going to take some time to get used to the matriarch of the family being gone from us.

Even after a month, we all of us are still very much in the shock and awe stage of our grief. All of this was so sudden and so unexpected. At least, when my uncle died three years ago of cancer (I posted a thread on this board then about my uncle), we had some time to emotionally prepare ourselves, since we saw him getting sicker and sicker by the day. We had absolutely no time to emotionally prepare ourselves for my mom's death, as she had no obvious chronic health problems.

I really can't wait to attend the grief support group meeting this Sunday. I'll keep you posted on how that goes.

I really can't wait to attend the grief support group meeting this Sunday.

I'm so glad you have this to look forward to. Please remember that everyone goes through this at a different pace, so don't be discouraged by other grieving members.

I have every confidence that you will make it through this. Your mom will be with you, giving you strength, reminding you that you are her life's work.

More hugs

Keep On Dancing*

I am so sorry I just now saw this. I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. How horrible for you and your family.

My thoughts and prayers are with you....please let me know if there is anything I can do.

-maggie

I'm also a latecomer, but I wanted to offer my condolences. My grandfather died from a brain aneurysm several years back as well, and was exhibiting similar symptoms. It was very sudden.

I love the idea of a loved one "contacting" you when you're reminded of them. On the day of my grandpa's funeral, a bald eagle (present where I live, but not terribly common) followed our car overhead as we drove home from the service. After that, we saw eagles very often. It's worn off considerably with the years, just as my grief has passed, but occasionally I'll still see one and think of him. There will be a time when you will be able to think of this without pain and remember the good times you had with your mother. It's always a process, but you're on your way.

I think a support group sounds wonderful. I'll be sending good thoughts to you and your family. Hang in there.

At the meeting,I said to the counselor, "I started asking the "What if...?" questions right away after my mom died. I wondered, "What if she had got to the doctor right away when the headaches, sleepiness, and neck and shoulder pain were getting worse." and "What if the doctor had put two and two together about the dizzy spells and eye muscle jumping, and sent my mom for some seurological testing.". She said, "You can't get stuck in the "What if...". I guess she's right. We human beings may never have been meant to be able to answer the "What if..." questions.

My dad is going to meet with a grief counselor for a one-on-one talk.

The grief counselor said, too, that in the grief process, it's normal to get forgetful. I can attest to that. In the Nutcracker rehearsals, I've had major brain farts at almost every rehearsal when I've done my Irish dancing doll solo in the party scene. Thankfully, the SO has understood.

I got an interesting revelation last night from my dad that my mom thought that, when her symptoms were getting worse by the day in September, she had a brain tumor. My dad told me that he's willing to bet that when my mom's dizziness and eye muscle jumping got worse, the doctor (a family doctor) wanted to send my mom somewhere for a CT scan, and that each time, she told the doctor "No.". Surely, the doctor was able to put two and two together to know that the dizziness and eye muscle jumping signaled a deeper neurological problem that warranted a CT scan. That makes me wonder, then, if neurosurgeons may have been able, after all, to clip or coil the brain bleed to get it stopped.

That revelation from my dad tinges my heartbreak and sadness at my mom's death with a bit of anger. I've thought, "Mom, if you had gone to the doctor and got a CT scan, you might still be alive.".

When pain could be something serious, denial is an easier way of coping than going to get it checked out. I don't think she admitted to herself that it could be serious, because it's such a hard thing to comes to term with, that your own death is actually close. Especially when life expectancy is so much further away than your current age.

Ask yourself who are you angry with? Then ask yourself if it will change the past. I think being angry with someone who could have given your mom a diagnosis and a chance at survival for a bit longer can only lead to resentment. What for? She lived, she loved you, and she had a good life. Try to forgive anyone you might be angry with, including yourself.

Please don't hate me for say this, but I guess I feel some anger that my mom refused to do anything about her symptoms. I'm not in any way blaming the doctor. It's just that if my dad, brothers, sister-in-law, or I had been feeling the same symptoms, my mom would have made sure of it that we got to the doctor and got a CT scan.

Moms are always the last people to take care of themselves. Its really true. Its ok to be mad at your mom. But know that her failure to make an immediate appointment was not in any way a reflection on her devotion to your family.

I have to say, my dad and I are getting along pretty well with each other. (At least, for now. Who knows what will happen, though, when all of this initial shock and grief wear off. )

Yesterday, at Nutcracker rehearsals, I finally got through my Irish dancing doll solo without a brain fart . My cousin said to me, "You looked more relaxed.".

maureensiobhan wrote:

Please don't hate me for say this, but I guess I feel some anger that my mom refused to do anything about her symptoms. I'm not in any way blaming the doctor. It's just that if my dad, brothers, sister-in-law, or I had been feeling the same symptoms, my mom would have made sure of it that we got to the doctor and got a CT scan.

I think that that feeling is probably a really normal part of the grieving process.

I also think putting off or delaying medical procedures is really common too. You tell yourself you'll make the appointment, and then you need tires, so you don't have the money. Or you tell yourself you'll make the appointment, then you start to get nervous about how much it's gonna cost, so you don't make the appointment. You tell yourself you'll make the appointment, but then you figure you feel pretty good, so what's the point?

She never, not for one second, saw this coming. Nobody did. Even as bad as she felt like her headaches were, that's all she thought they were - bad headaches.

And you can't do "What if?" because there's literally no way to answer that question - you're not going to get the time back to find out what if, and other than your mom living just as she was, none of the possible solutions would satisfy you anyway. So you're just going to end up eating your brain from the inside, trying to answer unanswerable questions.

RE Forgetfulness as part of the grief process.

I think that we can get forgetful when we grieve because the brain is trying to process a major life-changing event. We're trying to process the loss of a loved one, and then to process making the decisions of what to do, where to go, how and when to do it, and with whom to do it.

It's unbelievable, too, about the legalities involved in the death of a family member. There are so many legal issues that need to be sorted out.

She never for one moment saw this coming. Nobody did.

True. I think that's what hit all of us in the family all the harder about this situation. As I said, this was so sudden and so unexpected. We none of us had any idea that this would happen to my mom.

I still sob every night when I'm getting into the shower. Writing here on this thread is I think another way of helping myself work through my grief.

On the floral arrangement I bought for my mom's funeral, the carnations and chrysanthemums were white. That's likely because on the card with the arrangement, I wrote, "I know you're working right now in that great white garden in the sky.". She liked to work in the garden. As for the chrysanthemums, my mom said once that those flowers reminded her of Ireland. There were garden tools, garden gloves, and her garden hat placed around the casket. I said to the neighbor once that maybe we should put a gift certificate from the local garden shop into the casket.

Our holidays are certainly going to be very subdued, even a bit sad, this year. I've heard that the first year is usually the hardest. It gets easier with time, but the overall sadness never really fully goes away.

maureensiobhan wrote:

Please don't hate me for say this, but I guess I feel some anger that my mom refused to do anything about her symptoms. I'm not in any way blaming the doctor. It's just that if my dad, brothers, sister-in-law, or I had been feeling the same symptoms, my mom would have made sure of it that we got to the doctor and got a CT scan.

No one here would ever judge you harshly, let alone hate you. We all understand that you are going through a difficult process and anger, doubt, and everything else that goes with it are part of that process. It is admirable that you realize your mom would have taken good care of you or your brothers or your dad. If she thought for one moment that this was serious, she would have taken care of herself. But there still isn't any guarantee it would have changed the outcome. Life is very, very fragile and completely beyond most of our control.

I prayed for you in church in Sunday. The gospel was about "the talents", but the homily touched on "no one knows the hour or the time". I am so, so, sorry you have to handle this grief at such a young age, but you are doing a wonderful job and I'm sure you will see the other side with great grace and wisdom.

Please continue to pour your heart out here as you need to. Many of us have similar heartache and want to help you as best we are able.

More hugs
xoxoxo

Keep On Dancing*

I have to say, too, that the poems that are read at grief support meetings always seem, for some reason, to be depressing. I suppose that their hearts are in the right place when it says, "We will remember them." or "We light a candle in memory of them.". It just seems to get everybody crying.

My dad talked with a grief counsellor last week. I think he's going to talk again with a grief counsellor next week.

I have to say, too, that the poems that are read at grief support meetings always seem, for some reason, to be depressing.

This is very true. For some, it is a much needed release. For others, it just drags them down. Listen to your own heart, as far as what you need and what is helpful for you.

Your brain, for the most part, is programed to either go back (remember)or forward (plan). Meditation (and tap dancing!) can help you focus on the present and give your brain a rest. In your case, however, planning on moving forward may be the most therapeutic.

I hope you are feeling better today.

Keep On Dancing*

I just want to give you a big hug and tell you that I am thinking of you and your family and saying a prayer. Sending hugs and comfort your way.