One year ago… The Walkway

I wrote this one year ago.. in the midst of covid… I was working on the covid unit at our local hospital since March 2020. Our mom had been in a nursing home since January 2020, when life still moved…

… this seems like a lifetime ago… but at the same time like it was yesterday… there is still pain… now it’s a different pain. She’s gone. That’s final. There’s no changing that…

She’s at peace now. She’s whole now. She is laughing. She is filled with joy. Her pain is no more.

Her struggle is over on this earth.

She can see her grand babies better than ever… but the pain is there… the urge to pick up the phone and call her.. the urge to send her a picture of the kids doing something new…

She sees. She sees… the pain in my heart is deeper in a different way… but she sees…

Below is what I wrote July 17, 2020…

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How can you love a place & hate that same place so much…

I’m thankful for this walkway. I’m thankful I can walk down, counting the fourth window on the left and then I can peak into her room…

I’m thankful for the staff that treats her life family. I’m thankful for the staff that stays patient when she gets very anxious and is struggling. I’m thankful for the staff that cleans up after her when she accidentally has an accident or a spill… I’m so thankful to them…

I hate walking away. I hate seeing the tears roll down her face as she asks ‘ but you’re going to come back? You’re going to come back, right?’

I hate watching the heart break in her face as she shuts the window down the mere three inches she’s allowed to raise it.

I hate walking away.

I hate the torture thinking this might be the last time I see her… she has good days. She has bad days. The pain seems to be getting worse.

I wish I could hold her. I wish I could hug her and say, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

I wish with the deepest part of my being that she could hold Makenna one more time.

I wish I didn’t have to walk away. I wish I could take her home. I wish I had a place to make her comfortable where family could freely come visit… I wish.

I want to kick and scream and yell, “if staff members can be out living their lives, being with family, going to parties and cookouts and them washing their hands and wearing a mask is safe enough for them to work and be with these residents then why isn’t it safe enough for me to do the same so I can spend time with my dying mother?’

My heart hurts… I hate coming to this window because it means I can’t help her. I hate coming to this window because I can’t give her the contact she so deeply wants and needs. I hate coming to this windows… because every time I come to this window… I have to walk away…