Bye Mum

Admin note: So HaT is back up again, slightly to my surprise, I must admit. I’d asked my host’s support people to revert to an earlier version of the blog from their master backups, but they didn’t let me know that it had already been done. I’ll be importing posts from April back into the blog over the next day or so, from where they’re currently sitting over at the backup Hoyden In Exile blog. The hack coincided with a time where I just had too much else going on to deal with fixing HaT.

March was A Month, and then April was a Month And A Half. In March my mother was diagnosed with untreatable metastases arising from the breast cancer we all hoped she had beaten last year, and the disease progressed swiftly. Within weeks she was hospitalised due to weakness and delirium and we kept hoping they’d stabilise her so she could come back home for a while, but that wasn’t possible. She still had some cogent and lucid hours, but there were days and days where the delirium was uppermost, although thankfully the medical team were able to manage her pain so that she wasn’t in physical distress.

In the second week of April she was transferred to a hospice for palliative care, where she was more comfortable and mostly more aware and interactive, which was a very precious time for us. A little over a week later she died peacefully with family around her, and this week we held a funeral service to celebrate her life, with a full house of friends and family, in one of her favourite parts of the world on a gorgeous sunny afternoon.

black and white photo of a young woman with pale skin and short dark curly hair. She is hanging upside down by her knees from playground "jungle bars", laughing at the camera.

Mum on her honeymoon, larking around on a beachside playground

Mum was the first hoyden I ever knew, and my heart is too full to write everything I want to say about her in this space. I described her to someone recently as my emotional lodestar, and I will strive to live up to her example of a core of warmth, generosity, kindness and wisdom wrapped in irrepressible adventurous impishness every day of my life.

Categories: Life, relationships

Tags: ,

22 replies

  1. I love that photo of your mother, Tigtog. I hope the days get easier. All the best.

  2. “a core of warmth, generosity, kindness and wisdom wrapped in irrepressible adventurous impishness”
    Given that this is already how I think of you, I don’t see any problems for you in this area. (((hugs)))

  3. So very sorry to hear of your loss. I dread having to do without my mum, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
    I don’t know you as well as Mindy, but I get the impression you’re already an wonderful example of your mum’s excellent character.
    Internet hugs and Best wishes to you.

  4. So sorry to hear of your loss Tigtog. All the best for this hard time.

  5. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss.

  6. Oh tigtog, I am so very sorry for your loss. Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman. Sending lots of good wishes to you and your family.

  7. Oh tigtog, I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. Your mum sounds like she was amazing. Sending interwebs hugs to you all.

  8. My condolences tigtog. Hoping you have everything you need to keep you going.

  9. Sounds like your mum was a pretty terrific person. Sending best thoughts, Viv, for peace and strength.

  10. I know I’ve said this already, but I’m so sorry for everything your family has been going through. I’m glad you were all able to be together when it counted.

  11. Thinking of you, tigtog, and your family. Your mum sounds like a wonderful woman, and as Mindy says, that description you gave of her sounds exactly like you. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  12. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss, tigtog. I was where you are now, four and half years ago, and so I send condolences to you and your family. I hope that you will be able to give yourself all the time you need for everything that helps you.

  13. As an email subscriber and ‘lurker’ who often feels too mentally deficient to write anything insightful or witty enough on your blog, I’d still like to send you my condolences and, if you can bear it, a hug via the internetster-tubes. She sounds like a lovely woman and the photo you put up confirms this.

  14. So sorry for your loss. I lost my Dad to lung cancer several years ago. I remember terrible amibivalence, both grief and relief that he was not in pain any more that in turn gave me guilt. If you feel any of that, please know you are not alone. Please be gentle with yourself.

    Your Mum looks like an amazing person. Thank you for sharing this little piece about her.

    Love and jedi hugs if you want them.

  15. Thanks Viv for writing this about your wonderful Mum. I can only offer my condolences and many virtual hugs in return.

  16. So sorry about your loss, Viv. Your mother sounds like an amazing person.

  17. My sympathies, Tigtog.

  18. All the internet hugs, tigtog, so sorry for your loss.
    That’s a wonderful photo of your mum.

  19. My heartfelt condolences. I too lost my mom to cancer. Best wishes from India.

  20. Thinking of you, tigtog. My condolences.

  21. I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing her photo and some of your memories with us.

  22. I’m sorry for your loss, Tigtog.

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