My Mom

So, I guess it's time to break out my "mommy" issues. I don't have typical mother issues. Mine are a little different. My mom was everything to me, she stayed at home when I was young, so she and I were very close. She always challenged me to think about things, and to try different stuff. She was also old school Catholic, so she was pretty set in her beliefs. She tried to raise me with the same values and beliefs she was raised with, but I never took to the faith the way she did. I wanted to, I really did, but I could never fully embrace it the way she did. Although through my early teenage years, I know I believed that heaven was out there, waiting for me, along with all the people I'd lost that would be waiting for me in the afterlife.

When I was in my mid 20s, we started to notice she was forgetting things, little things, but things she had done forever. She would tell the same stories that she had told minutes before. She would turn the burner on the stove on, and leave it so the ignition was still clicking. She would leave the teakettle on, well after it boiled. She suddenly didn't want to have company over, as she could not seem to clean the house, or remember her recipes for dishes that she had made a thousand times. She went to her Doctor, who ran a battery of tests. I remember her and my dad telling me, he told them that it was definitely not Alzheimer's disease. That was a big relief, but what could it be? My sister, a registered nurse, urged them to go to a neurological specialist to run tests. They did and everyone awaited the results.

So a month or so later, I am sitting at my desk at work when the phone rings. It was my parents neighbor, Peter, who said hello. He then told me he was sorry to hear about my mom. I asked why, and he told me " because of her Alzheimer's". My jaw just dropped, and I have no recollection of what was said after that, I just know my heart sank. Over the next several months, it got progressively worse, to the point where she wanted to call the police on my dad because she didn't recognize him. He was already taking care of my grandma, who was in her 90s and starting to show signs of dementia. She regressed pretty quickly from there, to where he had to put her in a nursing home. The first time I saw her there, she looked terrible, confused and she had no idea who I was. Someone asked if I was her grandson, and she said yes. My heart ached, seeing her like this.

Soon after this, I met my wife, and brought her and my future son to meet my mom. It was hard for me to see her like this, she now had no idea who i was all the time. But when she saw my son, he made her smile. If only for a second. I had a similar experience after my daughter was born. She was about 6 mos old, and she was sitting in my lap, my mom to the left of us. She couldn't understand why this person would not pay attention to her. She was used to everyone smiling at her, so she reached across me, and grabbed my mom's hand, forcing her to lock eyes. It took a second, but my mom just stared back into her eyes and smiled. I cried right there on the spot, and its the last time I recall her having a real emotional moment.

The following November, I received a call from my father, as they had taken her to the emergency room. She was having complications with breathing. There was a DNR in place, and I could tell from his tone that it was going to be over soon. They took her back to the nursing home, and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. We all knew it would be over soon, and within a few days, it was. I was with her at the end, and I am glad I was. My hope, my wish, my prayer, is that she knew we were there with her at the end. I miss her so much. I wish I could talk to her now.

Colgan Flight 3407

As you have probably seen, Continental Connecting Flight 3407 crashed just outside of Buffalo, NY last night. It is the first fatal commercial airliner crash in 2 1/2 years in the US. 49 people on board were killed immediately as it crashed into a house in Clarence Center, NY. One man was killed inside the house, while miraculously, two people inside escaped to safety from the ruined house. My immediate thoughts turn to the victims of this tragedy and their families, among whom was a widow from the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center.

This woman, whose name was Beverly Eckert, was flying back to Buffalo to celebrate what would have been her husband's 58th birthday. I had met her once, as she had a family member (her father, I believe) at the same nursing home that my mother was in. My father had gotten to know her quite well, as he used to go to the nursing home every night for his "dates" with my mom. He was with her soon after the 9/11 attacks, and was moved to tears after hearing about her loss on that day. I didn't know if he had heard, so I called him this morning and when I said her name, he said "Oh, no!" and began to cry all over again. This is from a man who is not moved to tears very often. My heart goes out to her family, for having to suffer all over again. My wish and hope for her, is that she is reunited with her husband somewhere...

This really hits close to home with me, actually literally as well as figuratively. This happened about 4 miles from my home, so its doubly alarming that something this large happens so close to your own little world. I don't have much more to say about it, its extremely upsetting to think about those people and the terrible loss.

Here I go...

I don't know what has possessed me to do this. If I wasn't already convinced that I was out of my mind, then putting myself out there like this has got to be the proof of my insanity that I was looking for. I am fast approaching 40 (which I believe is the new 30), have undertaken a lifestyle change to become healthier for the past 9 months; married to a smart, successful, beautiful woman; and father to 3 amazing kids that fill me with love and pride and a million other emotions all at once. These are not the things that define me, although they should be the things to define me. What seems to define, consume, and control me to a great extent is my constant fear of death, including what happens after.

If you asked anyone other than my wife and about three people in my life on a regular basis, they would be surprised to hear this about me. Outward appearances show me as a "Regular Guy", I work in sales, have a side job as a deejay, try to be engaging and funny (stemming from a unfulfilled attempt at stand up comedy in my late 20s) and otherwise appear very happy, trying to carry on with a smile on my face. I love to laugh, I like making people laugh, so I think it would be a shock to people to find out how badly this affects me.

My fear encompasses the thought of death, and I obsess about it in many different ways. The thing that I think about the most is that after I die, there is a possibility that I will cease to exist on any level. Just a rotting corpse in the ground. Will I be able to "see" my kids, my wife...reconnect with loved ones I've lost? I don't know. It really scares me. I don't know what comes next. I was raised Catholic, around my mid 20s I realized I had not yet had that "leap of faith" moment that cemented me in my faith. I wanted so badly to believe that I would be taken somewhere after, but I could never just let myself believe that would happen. I wish I believed, I want to believe, I just don't know.

This is not a blog to knock religion in any way. I don't have an agenda to bash different faiths. On the contrary, I envy people who do believe, it must be comforting. Hopefully, I can find other people who share this, and see what they've done. I've talked to two psychiatrists and a few psychologists, I have yet to find an answer. My lifestyle change makes me feel like I'm just delaying the inevitable. I am so scared that when I leave my kids everyday, I have to let them know how much I love them, because I feel like I could be taken away at anytime. As time goes on, I will try and explain more and more of the thoughts that I live with, and hopefully someone will take time to read this.