Now this hasn’t happened for me yet, but it will very soon. And tbh, i’m already hurting bad, I have been for a long while, but i can feel it getting worse day by day now, last night in particular was a sledgehammer, what should have been months have now turned into weeks, miracle pending..

Tbh it might sound weird to say this but i was actually looking forward to starting to work from her home(my work just agreed to that last week) to help look after her during office hours and to be close to her, but that’s been taken away. Utterly utterly brutal, she’ll probably not see her 66th birthday in a few weeks.

Now i understand perfectly well what i need to do this side of it, and the practicalities there after. But i really can’t escape the feeling this is something i’ll never get over, it’ll just always be there. Now i don’t know if you grow to take comfort in that or not as time goes, but the sense of utter helplessness is all pervasive, and all i see is blackness coming, and to be perfectly honest, i never knew emotions could actually hurt so much. I know i’ll never have experienced such loss before.

I don’t really know why i’m sharing this here, i guess i just struggle to put this into words without completely breaking down at the minute, tbh i’m typing this through watery eyes, i’ve no qualms in saying that. i doubt i’m even using the right words here to express how i feel, infact I know i’m not. i don’t know what i’m asking, i’m not looking for sympathy, i don’t need it, send that and all the good vibes through the airwaves my mothers way. I guess i’m just venting and need to get this out somewhere, anywhere tbh.

Apologies if I’m causing any hurt or bringing up unwelcome thoughts to anyone else here too. But if anyone wants to share any thoughts and experiences or even just happy memories, please do, this doesn’t need to be a morbid thread. I doubt i’ll answer or share further in this thread again, least not for a long while, but i will read it, if it develops.

btw i understand if this just falls off the front page too, i know i’m asking something incredibly difficult and vague here…I’m not expecting anything, beyond me rabbiting on incoherently.

Anyhow, cheers for getting this far. Peace and happiness to all.

Grief tends to be in stages and it would seem you have started grieving already but an’t move on yet.

The pain will lesson in time. Professional help can really help ( or your favourite spiritual advisor )

To feel sad is normal. What you are feeling is normal. You will feel better in time= but you are right in that you may never “get over it” but you will learn to cope. life changing events change you and loss of parents is one. PM me if yo want to talk more – this is the world I live in looking after peoples dying parents.

time is a great healer

Look after yourself , that is really important.

It eases with time, as TJ says but ten years down the line I’m still thinking ‘Oh, I’ll just phone mum…’ and then I realise that I can’t really do that. The worst bit for me was seemingly losing a sibling who somehow thought that when mum went I’d not want to know them anymore. That was hard and is still perhaps being resolved.

Dude, you will get over it. You will get over it because life moves on, there are no options to NOT get over it. But it doesn’t matter what I or anyone else says on here, because until you go through it, you don’t know what it’s like to go through it. Have faith in yourself, amigo – make the most of the time you have left with her, and have faith that you will get through this. It is not going to be easy, and there’s no moment when you wake up and go “oh! I’m over it!”, but life goes on, and time softens memories. You will never not think of her, but there will come a time when you can look beyond her passing. Peace, happiness and love to you and yours, more than happy to chat off the forum if you want.

You know that thread earlier about abandoning posts. I just did that because I’m not sure I want to post what I’m feeling.

I’m in much the same situation o.p.
My thoughts are with you.

Sorry to hear you are going through this. Tragically if life runs as it should we all do at some point. My mum is still here but my father passed away 5 1/2 years ago at exactly the same age as your mum. 5 1/2 years on I’d say you never get over it, but it does change. It does get easier and less powerful without feeling like you are letting them down but not hurting so much if that makes sense.

Very little advice I can give you as we all are different and the circumstances differ too. But…..

In the run up and aftermath I consumed myself with everyone else’s welfare, especially my mum’s and getting everything sorted. To be honest I probably repressed my own most raw emotions and it didn’t properly hit me for six months.

I went through a phase of being really angry with him for dying badly! By that I mean not getting his affairs in order, not having conversations with people that mattered about how he wanted things left, not leaving anyone a note or saying goodbyes when he had a chance. Later I realised that he was not equipped to do these things either with the physically energy or the state of mind. I could have helped him by starting conversations when he felt unable to do it and offering to do the leg work. He died afraid and in denial and I could have made that better.

Make these weeks count. If at all possible make some happy memories. In reality, these are as much for you as they are for your mum. The stupidest silly events or trips were hugely powerful. We put him in a car and drove him 2hrs to the West coast to Ullapool to eat chips and watch the sunset wrapped in a blanket and drive straight back. Still gives me goosebumps thinking about it. Give her opportunity to challenge what she can still physically do to generate last experiences.

Don’t leave anything unsaid. I did and it haunts me. You have the ‘gift’ of knowing its coming that not everyone gets. Use it.

Take care of yourself too. It’s exhausting.

It will be tough.
Find people to talk to and offload onto; I’ve used the Samaritans many times because they’re a great listening service, non-judgemental, always available 24/7/365, confidential.
Find the happy memories, the family photos; put them in a special place in your memory which you go to when you need to.
My Mam’s 20th anniversary is near; I looked through some family photos a couple of days ago. Jeez, did I cry but I also took strength and solace for them.
I would also be happy to talk/email offline – see profile for details.
Be strong.
Crying is really helpful – it took me decades to understand and accept that.

Firstly, very coragueous for putting yourself out there like this. My Mum died 15 months ago after a short battle with Ovarian cancer and I kind of never really stopped at the stage you are at now, I sort of just got on with it, for a multitude of reasons including being supposedly strong for my Mum and our collective families.

I definitely have moments where I struggle with what’s happened and that results in me being not quite myself. I also have very dark thoughts at times; will often see the negative side a bit more than I used to. Also seeing death had such a profound effect that I try to avoid bad news stories. Recently I’ve given myself a kick up the arse, identified I need a bit of professional support and am seeking it out, and this is largely coz I could see my wife and children were effected by my behaviours. I hadn’t realised I’d been so different this past year.
Sorry to blather but in answer; talk to someone impartial with some grief counselling skills, talk to your family and loved ones, if poss talk to your mum as much as you can about anything you want. You’ll deal with it in your own way, in your own time. Best wishes.

But i really can’t escape the feeling this is something i’ll never get over, it’ll just always be there.

You’ll likely be permanently changed by the bereavement and if my experience of losing my partner is similar it’ll hurt like hell for months if not years and you may well go to a very dark place indeed. But little by little the dark periods will get shorter and shallower and the manageable bits between them will become more manageable until they eventually come to feel a little bit normal and you start having brighter days and weeks. I will promise you that things do get better but there’s no time scale that comes with that promise.

My way of coping was to convince myself that it was a process that would at some point end or at least become manageable and if I spent the day in tears or start to get anxious or welling up in the supermarket for no apparent reason then so be it. It’s all part of that process. I only consciously put on a brave face at the funeral and that was because I had a job to do and it was the only way to get through it other than that there was no attempt to hide my emotions from anyone.

That might not be right for everyone but allowing myself to be sad if I was sad and angry if I was angry worked for me. No bottling up of emotions positive or negative has been and continues to be my rule number one.

Some people swear by counselling, I’ve got friends that said it helped them and others that really didn’t get on with it. I never felt like it was an avenue I wanted to go down but you might and when the time comes you should definitely explore it.

Bregante – Member
You know that thread earlier about abandoning posts. I just did that because I’m not sure I want to post what I’m feeling.

I’m in much the same situation o.p.
My thoughts are with you.

Really sorry to hear that Bregante, all the best to you and yours. Know what you mean, think the above is about the 4th draft and I hovered over the button a long time..

To everyone else, a lot good thoughts, this is very helpful, thanks.

Oh, and to echo TJ ^^^ you may never ‘get over it’ but you will find ways of coping.
Always try to think of happier days.
The ‘older generation’ would always say ‘….I don’t want you crying over me when I’m gone’. I believe those words were always meant – I’ve had my time now you get on and live your life; say a prayer and think of me.

Bregante, this post and my earlier ^^^ are also for you.

It’s certainly a defining moment…. and life is never the same again.

The bond with my mother was special she was and still is the most inspirational person I’ve ever met.

Thankfully I got to tell her this…and whilst I know this is not always possible for everyone, I urge people to say all you can to your loved ones NOW… because as the cliche states, we don’t know what is round the corner.

I’m a lone working Paramedic, and in the darkest hours of my job and when I’m very much alone, she’s there helping me do the right thing.

I constantly see glimpses of her in patients, at first this was tough… and I cried a lot at certain jobs, which rather than detract or hinder my treatment – actually gave a deep connection that allowed strength and love to flourish.

I guess the over sumplified stupid answer is “you just do” I havent yet and cant imagine what it will really be like, but when you lose people it seems impossible that you will move on from the way you feel at that time. But it is just a fact of life and something we all have to deal with at some point… Look after yourself and just try and enjoy the time you have.

My grandad is in a similar position, I`m going to visit him tomorrow as I never know when it will be my last chance at the moment…

It is something you’ll never really get over, that’s just how it is.

You will learn to live with it and you’ll be okay, but it will take time, and it will cut you deeply. Maybe not in an obvious way. The key thing I found is to think how she would want you to go on. Don’t go to crazy over it.

It’s a weird time, I was about 27 when I lost my mum, long drawn out internal injuries after a car crash, was not good but we had chance to say goodbye properly, and held her hands when we withdrew treatment.

Personally I dealt with the immediate shock by going on a 6 month party binge. I wouldn’t nessesarily recommend that, you’ll find your own coping mechanisms.

Sorry that’s really crap advice, I’ll post something better tomorrow, but when it’s someone so close, it’s difficult, it’s still difficult for me to talk about it.

I am so sorry to read what you have written, seosamh77, but glad you have written it.

I lost my dad a couple of years ago at around the same age and in a similar way to what you are describing with respect to your mum.

I can only say that, if you have had a good relationship, and there are things you are thankful for in terms of what she gave you, there will be a bittersweet side to your sadness.

It is, and will be, painful for you, but think on what she has given you, and eventually allow yourself to smile through the tears.

Finally, do take care of yourself as well. I had already started to sink into depression before my dad died, but then plummeted afterward. Don’t forget to look out for yourself.

In the meantime, very best wishes from the Saxon household to you and yours.

EDIT: PM sent.

The other thing I would say is talking is good. You rfriends will find it hard to start conversations about it and you will feel reluctant to burdon them. don’t. a good friend will want to help and to talk to you but few know how. start the convrsations. Use folk like me or others who offer support. I don’t do it for show – I do it because I mean it.

Sorry to hear about your mum, seosamh77. I’m sure I’ve posted this here before, but it’s something that’s helped me with the intense grief of losing a loved one:

I wish I could say you get used to people dying, but I don’t think you can. I don’t want to get used to it. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.

As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a place, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or arriving some place you both held special. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.

The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

Hope that helps.

Others have said it all but the reality for me losing my dad was that it was tough.
Am I though the worst of it nearly six years later? Yes. Do I still cry about it? Yes.
How often is he on my mind? Daily.
Do I still sometimes think I need to call him. Sometimes and that is often the lead up to a few tears.
Have I been as happy as when he was alive? Definitely.

What does this mean for you? I think it means that for most people it is very hard but we do live happily again. On the short term you go through the hours and days beforehand and they are draining and the. It happens and it leaves you washed out and totally drained, but there is a good life still there for you when you are ready.

I’m really sorry to hear of your situation OP. I haven’t read all of the other responses, so I may be reinforcing a previous suggestion.

My mother died from a terminal illness just over 6 years ago. From the time she was finally correctly diagnosed, she was stage 4 and we had no idea how much longer she had. Communication from the health professionals was poor. Palliative care was even worse. My sister and I cared for her and for all three of us, it was the most magical, wonderful ( and I use that word because we made it so) and deeply emotional few months.

We talked, we shared, we talked more. We reminisced, we looked at old photos with dad in them and we laughed and cried together, all the time. All three of us spent our time with honesty and love at our core, which I’d love to say was how we had always been, but not.

We told each other things that had been left unsaid, we spoke of our fears, we talked about death – my mother was agnostic having been raised a Catholic, so she had issues with God and death anyway! I believe we all said what we needed to be said, so that when mum did finally take her last breath, for which both my sister and I were present, we whispered our tearful goodbyes knowing that in many ways, there was nothing more to say.

For both myself and my sister, this has made the whole grief and bereavement process much easier, I have felt closure, I still have moments where my tears flow, but they are generally because I’m remembering the good times, not my guilt at never having done or said x or y.

Tell your mother you love her and you’ll undoubtedly miss her, hug her, look into her eyes and speak your truth.

For me I found her illness far worse than her actual death. It almost felt like I’d got a lot of my grieving done and had prepared myself a bit better than had it been sudden, if that makes sense. Not that I don’t miss her, but I was far closer to acceptance than the shock/anger stages of grief by the time it actually happened. I also got to know when I was saying goodbye (the worst bit) because she was in Spain and I had to fly back to the UK in the knowledge that I probably wouldn’t make it back again before she actually died (I didn’t)

For me I found her illness far worse than her actual death. It almost felt like I’d got a lot of my grieving done and had prepared myself a bit better than had it been sudden, if that makes sense. Not that I don’t miss her, but I was far closer to acceptance than the shock/anger stages of grief by the time it actually happened.

Same for me.. My mum died just before Xmas, but it had been a long long time coming and for her, i was actually glad it was over. Sad time in some ways, but a good time too as it stopped her pain and heartache.

I don’t really do the grieving thing, i was obviously very sad at the funeral, but overall, i’ve just missed her but think of the good stuff, the good times.

I feel for you as I’m having similar thoughts rights now.

About 14 months ago, mum was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. The first few months were positive, and me, my brother and her got to go and see the Northern Lights – memories I’ll treasure forever.

Since the summer she’s been in steady decline, she wasn’t able to visit China for my brother’s wedding but was able to watch via video. She made it to his ‘English’ wedding in November and did a lot of the planning.

I think we’ve all done our share of crying at the most ridiculous things lately.

Since the cancer has been attacking her brain stem she gets very confused and is now confined to bed or a wheelchair.

We all know the end is coming, the only saving grace is that she isn’t in pain. To be honest, I hope she doesn’t hold on too long (my wife’s mother took 4 months to die in similar circumstances).

We remember the good times and just hold her hand through what she’s going through now.

Her candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

My mum died at 66 ten years ago. It’s all been said above but the truth is you don’t get over it, it just becomes a new normal. It fundamentally changed me, gave me a far stronger sense of empathy and humility. In some ways I’m now living my life with more caution and less aspiration/ambition, which I’d like to tackle.

Sorry to read about your mum’s situation. It does lessen, but every so often something will come along and I think mum would like to know about that. Some days we talk about my mum and regret that she never saw the people her grand children became. Other days a song will come on Spotify and I’ll dissolve (stay away from ‘Supermarket Flowers’ by the Ginger Suffolk lad unless you want a really good cry).
It’s 17 years since mum refused all future treatment and stopped taking her prescribed drugs. Cancer is shit.

The flying ox – I love the wave analogy. One of the best ways of putting it I have seen.
I may steal that. thank you

It’s all been said above but the truth is you don’t get over it, it just becomes a new normal. It fundamentally changed me, gave me a far stronger sense of empathy and humility. In some ways I’m now living my life with more caution and less aspiration/ambition, which I’d like to tackle.

Totally agree with that.

Sorry to hear about your mum OP, its an awful thing. Chat with folk you know, on here as you have if needed.

I lost my mum nearly 17 years ago. I know this as the day after she died we found out that we were pregnant with her first grandchild. She was desperate to be a gran, and the thing that still hurts the most is she never knew she actually was – and that my kids know her as ‘gran we never met’.

I don’t think grief completely goes away. I’ve dulled to it, become the normal. That said my mum was very ill, in pain and struggling. I didn’t want her to suffer more than she already had. At the time it hurt but was a relief.

When I stop and think about it, it still cuts deep at times. Things like holidays, the kids passing an exam, Christmas, my dad struggling with illness alone etc. But most of the time life is busy and positive – so I find I don’t remember to think about her so much.

Make the most of your chance to say what needs to be said.

My mother had 2 years of palliative chemo, and that gave us the chance to talk. It helped me to cope afterwards because I didn’t think “I wish I’d told her that…”

To be honest, the other thing that made it easier for me was that when she was ill, she wasn’t a very nice person. In effect, the person we’d loved died before she’d even been diagnosed, but it’s only with hindsight that we could say that. It meant that we’d started grieving before she died, and the last few days of her life were unpleasant enough that we could only be glad for everyone’s sake that it was over.

That said, five years later, I still wish I could talk to her (usually when I know I need a kick up the backside!) and the mental bruise is still there; I just don’t knock it as often as I used to.

So much sorrow in the world.
Nothing to add but im sorry to hear you are going through this OP.

Having lost both parents (69 and 70) in the last nine years all I can say is that things do get better. We’re all different and deal with things differently but we all (usually) have an inbuilt coping mechanism. I actually found it easier when they did die – I think that’s when the mechanism switched on for me.

I am also just about to find out – mum was diagnosed with an aggresive cancer before xmas and given ‘months’ to live and she’s refused the chemo.

Things looked bad earlier as she got that cold that has been going round (gave it to me and the stone mason) but she’s recovered from that now.

We are all quite matter-of-fact in our family and typicaly she’s given names to the lumps in her stomach and she’s contracted the stone mason in order to design her headstone. He says it is quite refreshing to actually be able to work with the ‘client’.

The main thing for me is that she ‘goes’ in as best a manner as possible – she’s 80 and perhaps this rapid cancer is a blessing compared to the other possibilities – like dementia, etc. The day she told me I had been seeing pairs of magpies all day (2 for joy).

We were all there for my fathers death in hospice and watching him choke to death because he couldn’t be helped to an earlier death wasn’t nice.

She’s got the same outlook as me (father had asked for her to smuggle in a load of sleeping pills to the hospice but the nurse found them) and although she cried when my father went at 76, she was in more of a state when the cat went.

And weirdly I started seeing a lady who works in palliative care about the same time as she told me of the cancer and prognosis.

Stayed with her over xmas and new year, seeing her again this weekend. I’m not that close but my sister and nephew are.

Talk. Here, with mates, wherever. We all react differently, don’t feel alone or isolated because you aren’t.

You won’t be the same after, but there will be an “after”. You’ll come out the other side, normal will be a different normal.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

take as much video of her as you can. If you have kids video them with her, document a whole day out?! My mum died and I wish I had more video oher. Peace, love and happiness (some of the time)

My Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer 6 years ago come February. she died 6 months later. Between us, my Sister, Brother and I managed to keep her at home until the final two weeks; looking after her in shifts. There’s nothing like bed bathing your own mother to get you talking and seeing the funny side of things. I felt better that I had helped my Mum when she needed us. As others have said, talk to her tell her everything now while she can hear you. We also bought a book, from me to you type thing. It had lots of Questions for Grandma to answer, things the kids wouldn’t be able to ask her later in life “What was your favourite childhood game” etc.
The grief will hit you at the weirdest times. For example my daughter, who was 9 at the time, decided to host a MacMillan Coffee morning to raise money for them as they’d looked after her Grandma. The thing that hit me was the person who’d be most excited to attend would have been my Mum!

+1 for video’s, you forget what they sound like 🙁

How I got through it, Wife decided to have an affair at the same time so I was preoccupied dealing with that. I don’t recommend that as a solution.

everyone deals with grief differently, (deleted the rest sorry, too many memories).

Memories of your mum never leave you, even when her physical presence has,

best wishes for the future

Me too – my mum died 15 years ago. She was 51, I was 23. I think about her and miss her every day.

I still think of stuff I want to tell her, and it helps that I’ve got a big picture of her that I can kind of talk to. She was the glue that held the family together in lots of ways and we’ve drifted apart a bit over the years.

I use ‘would this make mum proud?’ as a way of helping with major decisions about stuff and this makes it feel like she still helps me to shape my life.

I hope you’re able to have some fun together in the time she has left.

Best wishes

seosamh77, I’m in an almost identical position to you. Although we have known for years that this time would come it is not making it any easier to deal with. At the moment it feels like there is a permanent black cloud floating around my head. Even at what should be happier times I’m struggling to escape the gloom. Shortly going to need to start a shift pattern to try and keep her at home as long as possible. My biggest concern at the moment is how we explain whats happening to our eldest (nearly 6 years old) who is really close to her grandma.

My biggest concern at the moment is how we explain whats happening to our eldest (nearly 6 years old) who is really close to her grandma

I didn’t have kids when my mum died. Now I do. I really wish I’d made some videos with her so they could get to know her a bit.

We have some video but probably not enough.

took my mum into a care home today – probably just for a while, as my dad’s in hospital.

He’s the (remaining) brains of the partnership and she’s the (forgetful) arms and legs; she’s just not safe without him. She’s not gone but her mental game is fading and her sharpness is what made her stand out (sure, love, tolerance and wisdom but all mothers have that, I think).

I’m sort of grieving in anticipation for both of them – shouldn’t moan, combined age is 180.

Can’t remember that last time I cried. Before this week.

Hugs all round.