(Closed) Diary of a Dying Mom

posted 8 years ago in Parenting
Post # 3
5106 posts
Bee Keeper
  • Wedding: September 2011

@MsBrooklynA: Oh my Lord. I am an emotional train wreck as it is.

I will have to read this when I have a lot of time…. And am not at work so I don’t need to have crazy red puffy face from crying.

Thanks for the post.


Post # 4
5118 posts
Bee Keeper
  • Wedding: November 1999

Oh my, I’m going to have to read this another day when I’ve got more time, it looks so good/sad. It reminds me of a story I think someone posted here about a bride who was terminally ill, got married and had a beautiful wedding and died 5 days later. So powerful but so sad.

Post # 7
1645 posts
Bumble bee

Oh my lord I had to stop reading. I am a MESS now. What beautiful writing. Heartbreaking.

Post # 8
176 posts
Blushing bee
  • Wedding: September 2009

@MsBrooklynA: I would want my husband to mourn for an appropriate time, then start dating again and eventually remarry. I don’t think it would be healthy for him to put any part of his life on hold indefinitely. 

No way in hell I’ll be able to read that blog. I had to watch my grandmother die a slow, painful death. Too many bad memories.

Post # 9
5106 posts
Bee Keeper
  • Wedding: September 2011

@MsBrooklynA: I seriously can’t stop reading. Or crying.

Post # 10
5106 posts
Bee Keeper
  • Wedding: September 2011

“At a time when most newlyweds are planning their life together, Bill and I were gripping the idea that “Til death do us part” might be much sooner than we expected. During the first year of our marriage, Bill held onto hope for me until I was willing and able to hold onto it myself. When I tried to succumb to my depression in those early months, Bill prodded me, “You can’t just give up like this.” And he nudged and nudged like a loving but annoying puppy until I finally, literally, got off the sofa and started living again.”

Makes you realize what’s really important.



“Why are you doing the dishes?” he yells at me exasperatedly one night. I feel so angry with him. I watch him, when he thinks that I am not looking. I see the worry on his face and the weight of all his many responsibilities. Every night he leaves a demanding academic job at a relentlessly competitive medical school and he works second shift at home. He cleans the kitchen, does the wash, and readies the children for bed. After they are off, he works more on his papers and grants thus ensuring his presence every night for dinner. And he tries to manage my medical care, using his connections to access anyone who might relive some of my suffering. “Because I feel so sorry for you!” I yell back unable to see clearly past the tears welling in my eyes. “I wash the dishes because I can do that,” I stammer, “Because I love you and I feel so badly for you.”

And some more

“Someday he will grow gray with the love that replaces me. Surprisingly, this reality makes my fate tolerable. I find comfort in the idea of him finding love again and healing in someone’s loving embrace. I hope that in watching their father move on, the children will also learn to love the mother who takes my place. But I wish that Bill and I could be a little old couple walking along hand in hand, a testament that love endures time, illness, and nitpicking. I wish that “’Til death do us part” was still off in the distant future.”

And again:

“Sometimes I realize that, unlike me, Bill chose this life. He knew that I was sick before we married, but loved me enough to stay. One night in the emergency room I asked him, “Why did you stay?” He cracked a joke in response. The next day while I lay on my bed he knelt by my side. “I honestly never considered leaving. I love you” And he says it with all the right emphasis on the word “love” that tells me how much he means it. He makes it sound like loving me is like breathing, an involuntary and necessary part of his existence. In this moment I realize how much he loves me and how very lucky I am that on a beautiful October day at the end of a church aisle he uttered those seemingly trite vows and meant every word.”

Post # 11
123 posts
Blushing bee

It’s only 9am and I’m bawling. She was one strong woman, and she eloquently put into words what most of us wouldn’t say out loud. May she rest in peace. 

Post # 12
11325 posts
Sugar Beekeeper
  • Wedding: February 2011

omg why am i reading this… too much crying before 10am on a friday.

Post # 13
7695 posts
Bumble Beekeeper
  • Wedding: August 2010

Im tearing up just by reading these excerpts that you posted. I need to stop reading this thread! And while I think its very touching and beautiful, there is no way I can read the blogs. I would be crying nonstop at my desk. And then I would start thinking about my own death and that would send me into a spiral.

Post # 14
464 posts
Helper bee
  • Wedding: June 2011

omg I’m such a mess now. Definitely need to stop reading that! That is such a sad story 🙁

Post # 15
870 posts
Busy bee
  • Wedding: September 2012

Ok I have to stop reading too. I’m crying at work!

The topic ‘Diary of a Dying Mom’ is closed to new replies.

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