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Submitted on
November 3, 2012


81,557 (39 today)
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An update concerning-

My mother died on Tuesday, October 30 from complications of a brain tumor.  I managed to get there for her final two breaths (I was at work at the time).  The funeral was today, and as bad and crushed as I'm feeling right now, I can't imagine what my father is going through.  The love of his life, whom he was married to for 42 years is gone.  I'm trying to be there for him as much as I can, but to say we've had our differences in the past is a massive understatement.

It's hard to imagine that just four months ago I was still joking and laughing with my mom, not thinking much of her memory loss or weakness (again, we thought it was her medication, and we simply needed to change the meds, but when you don't have insurance, it's not that easy).

This is just an update for everyone that left such kind words on the first journal entry I wrote on the situation.  My original intention in writing the previous journal was in case I decided to stop drawing, but I've since noticed (as you probably have) that I need to draw.  It's my little escape from how shit my life has become. This time I felt I owed it to you guys to let you know how things turned out.  I have no regrets.  I was there for my mother nearly every day for the last three months, talking and joking with her (and holding her hand and letting her know I loved her when she got unresponsive at the end).

Thanks for your kind words and for supporting my art.  You guys rock.
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artin2007 Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2014  Professional General Artist
Many condolences for your loss.

It takes some time to recover from the
loss of a parent.

I envy you that your Dad
is still around.
buffethunter Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2014
Really sorry to hear of your loss. 
shareefmuwwakkil Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2013
i am just finding your page man and i know this may sound very thin to you right now but thank you for your art and courage. bright blessing for you and your family. hetep
Novaprime12 Featured By Owner Feb 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
This brought a few tears to my eyes... Something very hard to do. But this reminds me about the loss of my grandfather, and that was the most heartbreaking moment of my life. Remember, a person only dies when you forget about them.
Phantom--X Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2013
My condolences. I know what it's like to lose a loved one. I'm sure she's in a better place.
ArtbroJohn Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Very sorry to hear about your loss.

Our prayers go out to you and your loved ones.
Peter-Pine Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2013
I'm so sorry for your loss

I lost my Dad in 2007, He had a massive stroke on the monday after Father's Day and died 4 days later on Thursday. . .
The last words we said to each other was "I love you, Dad" "I love you, Son"
and for that I am eternally Thankful
Randimaxis Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
I feel your pain, sir; my own mother passed about seven years ago.

My Mother & I had been arguing a lot, so we weren't talking to each other much. When she told me she was headed for the Hospital for some tests, I swallowed back my "pride" & hugged her, telling her I loved her.

I had no idea it would be the last time I'd ever hug her.

She called while she was there, at one point. We talked for a while, then she had to go. Again, leaving my irritation at her behind, I said, "I love you, Mom." She said, "I love you, too."

Those were the last words she ever said to me.

When I got the call that she'd had a stroke & was in a coma, I was in Florida, visiting my wife's relatives. I just woke up; couldn't get back to sleep. I heard someone on the phone, talking about how they should "let me sleep until the morning". Something tugged at me - I asked & was told what had happened. I made the trip from mid-Florida to south Atlanta in five hours - a trip usually taking eight or nine hours, one way.

I got to see her. She was unresponsive. I talked to her. I kissed her cheek. I sang a quick verse from a song she'd sung to me almost every morning when I was a kid. Then, exhausted, I went home to sleep. Being a Southern Baptist myself, I wanted to pray for her recovery. But I knew, from what the doctors had said, she wouldn't be anywhere near the same. Knowing a life of inactivity would be the worst possible thing for her (she was a classic busybody), I did the HARDEST thing I've ever had to do.

I prayed, "Lord... thy will be done. If she's suffering, please do what you think is best for HER. If she's meant to come back to us, you'll do that. If not, then you must need her elsewhere."

She passed away while I was sleeping that night. She'd hung on long enough for me, her youngest son, to see her.

The day of her funeral, I was an emotional mess. My Dad was no better. We'd been slogging along, trying not to cry at the sight of ANYTHING she'd done in our house... and, as she'd been a housewife, her work was EVERYWHERE. I thought my heart would explode out of my chest; I had no idea how I'd handle a funeral that day.

It didn't happen. That specific day, for the first time ALL YEAR, it snowed. It snowed HARD. The funeral home had to call it off for that day; the ground was too frozen to dig.

Personally, though it may be foolish, I felt that my Mom was responsible. When I was young, my Mom liked to white-wash EVERY wall in our house. I guess it was because she loved the sunshine, because white walls shine like ALL Hell when they're lit up. She white-washed every wall in our whole house; even the bathrooms.

Which was why, when I saw everything covered in a layer of white, I knew Mom wasn't going to stand for us having her funeral THAT day.

I'm not sure if you're the religious type, but I DO know you're in pain. Little miracles make all the difference. Remember the good times. Remember the quiet moments. Remember the love. The pain will lessen & become bearable, in time. The memories should last you until you see her again, in whatever capacity you put faith in, good sir.

Take it from someone who's been there: The people we love are never REALLY gone, as long as we take a piece of their soul with us into our futures.

To this day, I'll still occasionally look up to the heavens & say, "Love you, Mom... miss you."

And that's okay.

My heart goes out to you, good sir. Deepest sympathies. I hope my own lil' stories will help you through your own story.

One love.
Peter-Pine Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2013
bobhhh Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I tell you what I always tell people. My dad passed away 14 years ago and I don't miss him at all. Consider yourself lucky to have had a special relationship.
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