I posted here last Tuesday about my mother. I wrote that it felt like the end game. Well, it was. The very same day.
It was a very sad, and also shocking, way to go. I won't go into all the details as I have already messaged a very kind person on here. But the responses to me on Tuesday (and previously) were so helpful and I am really grateful to you all. Posting here has really made me feel less alone, and far more able to live with my feelings.
I feel immense relief that I am no longer so angry and stressed. All of that disappeared, almost instantly. I know I may feel that way again, but right now I don't. I feel no guilt, because we all tried so hard. My last message to her, on Tuesday, which I don't think she read, said that all would be forgiven if she would just try, and take the help offered. I meant that. We all so badly wanted her to change.
I'm starting to feel the deep sadness of a life destroyed. And I think that's right. I can see my dad is different already. He sees that he was thoroughly caught up in the madness too. We have talked so much. It was mostly drink, fuelled by family history and some personality flaws, and made worse by the effects of prescription drugs. It was a life of two halves. Once, she was a clever, pretty student and an energetic, happy mother of toddlers (who never had postnatal depression, I was surprised to learn).
I found some notes, written earlier this year, some addressed to me, in which she communicated with us. Admitted things. Showed understanding, even some consideration. She never did this in life, but it is very comforting that she did, occasionally, have flashes of care and connection. I think she was starting to understand the damage she had caused, and it was too much to bear.
Thanks to these notes and letters, I can talk to her now. I say 'Mum, all that fucking gloomy junk in the front room, it's going in the bin. We're hoovering, too. Making the place lighter and cleaner for Dad. Those awful collectibles? Bin! Don't care if you haunt us, you can piss off.' Makes me smile, actually. None of us ever lost our (horrible) sense of humour.
I think I'll go sit with her coffin next week, have a longer conversation. I finally understand everything. I am so lucky that many questions have been answered, and I know that not everyone has this comfort.
Love to all who understand.