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Healing, Life, Pain, Short Stories

Don’t Downplay the COVID-19 Virus Unless You’ve Experienced it

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Photo by Anna Shvets from Pexels

Is COVID Real or Just the Flu?

COVID struck in my family. As much as some of us tried to steer away from crowds and gatherings to protect our 81-year-old mother, it wasn’t enough. Mom caught the virus, and it was not pretty. It frustrated me to hear people downplaying it like the flu and saying Mom was pretending. People who did not bother to check on her while sick in her apartment, call while she was at the hospital, or even inquire about her health. It’s okay to believe whatever, it’s each one’s choice and we are all individual beings. But to downplay a condition when they know nothing about medicine, are not healthcare workers, and were not there to see what was going on is downright wrong.

Mom Does Not Feel Well

On February 24th, Mom told me she was not feeling well. I asked her what were the symptoms? She said she felt a lot of body ache, sore throat, tiredness, a lot of coughing, and a weird metallic taste in her mouth.

“Do you have a fever?” I asked.

“No, I don’t have a fever,” she responded.

It concerned me because she lives alone in an apartment with only her dog as a companion. My thought was she had COVID. Although I live quite close to her, the thought of me contracting the virus and spread it to my family worried me. But I needed to help Mom. I continued to call a few times a day to check on her status and brought over foods she requested or I knew would help nourish her. I took her dog, Precious, home with me thinking it’d be less work for her since she did not have to feed or walk Precious. But Mom called asking me to bring Precious back home because she missed her, so I did. I always wore my mask and never got near to Mom, hug or kiss her even though I wanted to. It hurt to see her so sick.

“Mom, let’s go to the doctor,” I said a few times.

“No, I don’t want to go, but I’ll call my doctor and let her know what’s going on,” she promised.

Mom made good on her promise and contacted her physician. They sent Mom for a chest x-ray, which she did the following Monday.

About a week into Mom’s illness, when I called her, she did not answer the call. It was about 9:00 a.m. I figured she’s asleep, and since I had two appointments that day, I thought I’d call her after my first appointment. The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. “She’s probably taking Precious for a walk. I’ll call after my second appointment,” I thought to myself.

It was 3:00 p.m. when I tried ringing her again and no answer. I worried me she wasn’t responding, so I drove directly to her home. It’s a good thing I have a key to her apartment and could enter without problems. However, in my rush to check in on Mom, I forgot to wear a mask.

Precious was barking incessantly as I walked in. “Mom!” I called out, but no answer. I dashed straight into her bedroom where I found Mom all bundled up on her bed. “Mom,” I yelled out and nothing. “Mom,” I called again and nudged her until she finally opened her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Not realizing how long she had slept, “I’m okay,” she responded.

“I’ve been trying to reach you, but you didn’t answer the phone,” I told her.

“I didn’t hear the phone,” she said. “The doctor gave me a prescription for the cough and it makes me sleepy.”

“Okay,” I replied. “So what was the chest x-ray diagnosis?” I asked.

“She said my lungs are clear,” Mom responded.

“Did she send you to get tested for COVID?” I asked.

“No,” Mom responded.

“Mom, I think you should get tested. I’ll take you and get myself tested too,” I told her.

“I don’t want to get tested. Besides, I’m feeling better,” she responded.

“You don’t look better. Did you eat?” I asked.

“I’m not hungry, Mom replied.

“Mom, you need to eat something. Tell you what. I haven’t had lunch yet. How about if we order something to eat? What would you like?”

“I’m not hungry, but some soup sounds good,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll order some soup for both of us from Panera Bread,” and I placed the order.

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Caring for My Ailing Mom

We sat down together and chatted while we waited for our lunch to arrive. She was not her total self but was happy that I was there with her. When our order arrived, we sat together at the dining table and ate. Unfortunately, she could only eat about three spoonfuls of soup and wanted no more. She claimed the metal taste in her mouth made her nauseous. It concerned me she wasn’t eating properly.

Looking in her refrigerator, I saw that the meals I had brought over for her to eat during the week were half eaten or not even touched and still in her fridge. I spent a few more hours with her until she could no longer stay awake and wanted to go to sleep. I stayed until Precious ate and I could take her downstairs for her walk and made sure Mom was not needing anything else, then I went home. Once at home, I realized that while I was with Mom; I did not use a mask. There was nothing I could do now. How long was Mom contagious, I didn’t know. I could only pray I didn’t catch whatever Mom had.

It was not easy but I continued to monitor Mom and tried to help as much as possible. Between work and my home, I couldn’t spend much time with her. It worried me to see how much weight she had lost. She was not eating at all, and I doubt she was drinking any water since she complained about the metallic taste.

We Need to Get Tested

That weekend I could finally convince her to get tested with me. So on Sunday night, I told her I’d pick her up after work on Monday and we’d both get tested. However, she claimed she didn’t want to go because three family members told her that if she got tested, she would definitely test positive because everyone that gets tested, comes out positive.

I was livid! How dare they impose their beliefs on an 80-year-old? They were not there to see how sick she looked, how much weight she’d lost, and how much she needed a diagnosis to properly care for her healing. I contacted the persons who misinformed her and demanded they corrected their wrongdoing. They promised they would speak with her if they needed to. Fortunately, she accepted to go with me the next day.

On Monday, March 8th, after work, I picked Mom up and headed to the testing center. Mom was so weak and could barely walk. I felt terrible to see my Mom like this but was glad she accepted to be tested. We wouldn’t get our results until Wednesday, so I dropped Mom off at her home and went straight to mine.

I Trusted My Intuition

That night was quite restless for me. I am a very intuitive person and something kept telling me to go over to my Mom’s house. I was up by 6:00 a.m. on Tuesday. Therefore, I prepared myself and was about to leave when my husband asked me, “where are you going?”

“I’m going to Mom’s house,” I responded.

“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast first?” he asked.

“No, I’ll make breakfast over there and hopefully she’ll eat with me,” I replied, and I was off to Mom’s.

Even though I had spoken and seen her during the week, I had not been inside her apartment since the previous Wednesday and I was in shock at what I walked into.

Another Sign Mom Was Not Well

Mom is a clean freak. Her home is always super neat, clean, and aromatic. But as I walked in, I was struck with a horrific smell. There were dirty dishes in the sink, the garbage needed taking out, and all those times she said she was taking Precious out for her walks—well; it wasn’t true. The garbage bins in her kitchen and bathroom were full of pee-pee pads, which were soiled—a sign Precious was not walked. Mom was a bit confused when I walked in with the breakfast groceries. The first thing I did was take the garbage out and disinfect the apartment, feed the dog, and take her out for a walk before beginning breakfast.

Confusion and Delirium Began

Once back, I began with breakfast. At that moment, Mom told me she had not paid the rent and asked if I could take the check to the office, to which I replied I could. She got up from the sofa and walked into her bedroom when suddenly I heard a loud thump.

I ran into her bedroom and there laid Mom on the floor. She had lost her balance and fell. I tried helping her up, but she had no strength and I couldn’t get her up. She kept her right hand as if she was holding something. I monitored her, thinking she might have a seizure because of the way she was moving her hand.

“Is your hand hurting Mom?” I asked.

“No, hold this,” she said, but there was nothing in her hand.

“There’s nothing there, Mom. What do you want me to hold?” I asked.

“Here, hold it!” she yelled.

I didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t help her get up, so I contacted my husband to stop by before he left to work. But Mom was so weak, she couldn’t sustain herself for us to get her up, so I had no other choice than to call 911. I stayed with her while they arrived. She seemed confused and didn’t look well at all. The paramedics arrived in less than 15 minutes. They could not get any straight answers from her. She seemed confused, delirious, very weak, and her vitals were a bit off. She’s a diabetic, and if she was not eating, that was not doing her any good. The Paramedics transported her to the hospital.

She Tested Positive

I was glad that Mom went to the hospital because I knew she would get the proper care she needed. Other than vitals taken, they tested again her for COVID, but the results would be in on that same day. However, I noticed she was very forgetful. I thought maybe she was tired but there was also the incident at her apartment which told me something else was going on. Then the results came in. Mom tested positive for COVID and was going into isolation. The nurses changed Mom into a hospital gown and gave me her clothes. They did not allow me to go into Mom’s room or even say goodbye to her.

“Can I at least hand the cell phone to her?” I asked.

“I’ll give it to her,” said the nurse, and she handed me a sheet with instructions to follow in order to see Mom the next day.

Once home, I called the number on the sheet and scheduled an appointment to see Mom. The hospital policy was one visitor per day for 30 minutes. I had to be suited up with protective gear provided by the hospital and follow certain rules before going in and after exiting the room. I was okay with that just as long as I could visit Mom. Once done with scheduling the appointment, I returned to her apartment to clean and disinfect it and took Precious home with me. I was not about to leave her alone in the apartment. Also, I had to make sure that Mom’s apartment was in optimal condition before she came home.

That Was Not My Mom

The next day I visited Mom. She seemed so frail in that hospital bed. She was silent and said she felt extremely tired. I spent 30 minutes with her until they kicked me out. Once at home at around 5:30 p.m. I received a call from Mom. Since my son was with me at that moment, I put her on speaker.

“Hi Mom, how are you?” I asked.

“Why did you leave?” she asked.

“Because they didn’t allow me to stay any longer,” I responded.

“But, how am I going to get home? I don’t know my way home,” she said.

At that point, both my son and I noticed this was not Mom. “You’re staying there tonight, Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” I replied and changed the conversation. “Did you eat, Mom?” I asked.

“I’m eating now,” she responded.

“What are you eating?”

“Mac and cheese, and, umm, umm, I don’t know,” she said.

We said a few more things and hung up. However, that conversation was puzzling to me and my son. It was as if she had dementia or something like it.

The next day, Thursday, March 11th, the ringing of the phone awakened at 6:00 a.m. It was Mom’s nurse calling. Apparently, Mom tried leaving and was yanking the tubes off so she had to be restrained. The nurse didn’t want me to be surprised when I got there. It was disturbing to me to hear this. Mom was not a belligerent person. My appointment was not until 2:00 p.m. and they did not allow me to go in any earlier. However, when I arrived at the hospital, she was no longer in isolation. Further testing showed her plasma levels were higher than expected, which meant she had COVID for some time and therefore no longer contagious. I could stay with her for as long as I wanted.

The Moment I Panicked the Most

However, as I walked in towards Mom, it broke my heart. They physically restrained her arms from the bed. I understand it was for her own good, but it was horrific to see. She didn’t know who she was, or who I was. Even though she joked with the nurses and doctors, it wasn’t my Mom. I did not know this woman, and she did not know me. It devastated me. Mom was seeing things that were not there. She kept talking as if her dog was there with her. Kept fumbling with the sheets as if actually doing something and would ask me to hold whatever imaginary thing she had in her hand. I told her a few times that she’d be out of there soon and I will take her home, but she said she didn’t know me and wasn’t going home with me. She kept on trying to sit up and get off the bed, but had no strength to do either. And she talked so many incoherent things.

I asked the nurse what happened to her, to which she responded, “You mean she’s normally not like this?”

“Not at all!,” I replied. “My Mom is an independent woman who lives by herself, has family get-togethers where she cooks, lives on a second floor with no elevators, takes her dog for daily walks twice a day, does arts and crafts, and drives!”

“Oh no,” responded the nurse. “We’ll have to get a neurologist to see her.”

Trying to Bring Mom Back

It was killing me to see her like this. I contacted my siblings and family members and asked they call her through FaceTime. We needed to jog her memory. I wanted my Mom back! Many family members called and even though she did not recognize them, she associated them with the correct family, so that was good. But it wasn’t enough. Mom kept on trying to pull herself out of the bed and constantly yanked on all the tubes and cables. The weekend seemed like an eternity. I cried and prayed so much and spend the weekend with her at the hospital. I wanted to stay overnight but, again, hospital policy did not allow it. But I was there as soon as visiting time began at 8:00 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. when they kicked me out. During that time, I talked to her a lot, trying to jog her memory, tried to feed her, gave her water, and tried everything possible to help her regain her strength. It was frightening not knowing what might happen.

The neurologist came by and could not believe that this woman was an independent person. He truly believed she had dementia and told me not to get my hopes up because at her age, even if she didn’t have dementia before, but after what she’s been through with the virus most likely she would never recuperate and never be independent again. That was devastating news, and I knew I had to prepare for anything. She was turning 81-years-old on March 21st, so maybe the neurologist was right. But no! My Mom comes from a long life family line. Her dad died at 96 and his memory was perfect until the day he died. And my grandmother will turn 98 years old in July and her mind is perfectly well. Heck, my grandma will recite poems from when she was 8-years-old. I could not fathom my Mom becoming senile at 80. I summoned all my prayer warriors and healers for my Mom’s health and I know they all put in their best efforts.

Feeling of Joy

On Sunday, March 14th, I arrived at the hospital as usual. I took a photo album with me to show her. I needed to try everything possible to help her regain her memory. She was asleep when I arrived. Once she opened her eyes, I noticed she would not move her arms or legs. She wouldn’t speak either. I tried to feed her breakfast, but she refused. So I offered to show her some photos to which she nodded yes. I began showing her the photos—especially the ones of her. I noticed tears streaming down her face from the corner of her eyes while she struggled to speak.

“Why am I here? Why am I like this?” she asked.

“Because you tested positive for COVID and were very sick,” I responded.

“I was?” she asked.

At that moment, the nurses walked in.

“Yes, you were. Do you know who I am?” I asked.

Mom nodded yes, and the nurse asked her, “Who is this lady?”

“She’s my daughter,” Mom responded.

I was so happy to hear her say that. Then I asked, “What’s my name?”

“Debbie,” she replied.

It was such a joyous moment. Even the nurses were tearing up. They took the restraints off. She still could not get up, but seemed to get better. She was still too weak. However, on that day, the Physical Therapist helped Mom to the chair in the room. Followed by taking a few steps the next day and so on. On Tuesday, March 16th, the doctor discharged Mom from the hospital with home care help until she regains her strength. Her mind is 98% back and is getting stronger each day.

Returning Back Home

My Mom is a stubborn woman and didn’t want to come back home to my house. She was adamant it had to be to her home. Therefore, with little strength and the help of my son, she walked up those stairs to her apartment. I moved in temporarily with her so I could care for her. A week in and she kicked me out of her apartment. My Mom was finally back! Never have I been so happy to be kicked out of any place!

Oh, and by the way. My test came back negative. See? Not everyone tests positive!

NOTE: Further COVID research shows that delirium and confusion are also side-effects of the virus among the elderly or as young as 50 years old. To read about particular cases go to COVID – Delirium, and Confusion for the latest CDC updates.

Grief, Healing, Life, Mother's Grief, Pain, Spirituality

What Is Our Mission on the Earth Plane?

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“We are all different. You have to figure it out. What makes you tick and what makes you happy. Stop looking to others for answers and start looking within. It takes time but there’s no hurry. Enjoy the journey, because that’s what life is all about.” ~ Rebecca Fox

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Where Did Time Go?

Time goes by fast. So fast that we don’t even realize it. Thirteen years have gone by since I began questioning my life. It all started when my son died. In these past 13 years, there have been many changes. I’ve grown a lot spiritually and mindfully. Forgetfulness is one of the things that has grown too. Like I don’t even remember what I had for dinner last night! Yes, I know, that could be part of aging. 😊 As I was saying, I’ve done a lot of spiritual growth.

I Questioned My Life

Within these 13 years, I began to analyze my life. What is life? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do? Am I fulfilling the purpose of my existence? Those questions began to cross my mind. I needed answers. It didn’t sit right with me that we are born, to study, work, get married, give life to another, raise them, and that’s it. The cycle begins again. It didn’t make sense to me. There had to be more to life than live to work. When my son’s life ended I felt I was wasting my life. He was given only 20 years and just when he began to discover life, it was cut short. So, what could I do to fulfill my purpose in life? To make my years count.

I Finally Awakened

It was through the grief process that I finally awakened. I feel that my son had a hand in this. It was through him that I discovered there is more in life than I thought. I’ve always been spiritually intuitive but never did anything to develop it. If anything, I tried hard to block it. The lack of understanding of what it was and meant kept me in fear. I made sure to stay connected to my religious beliefs, my Catholic upbringing, and Infinite Spirit (God). My son did not allow me to fear it anymore. I had a sixth sense and I could feel it. I could hear him. Many times I thought it was my wishful thinking, but I was proved wrong by other like-minded, spiritually intuitive beings. Even though they connected with my son and it helped me immensely in my grieving, I never gave in.

But one night my sorrow was so intense and deep that the tears would not stop flowing. What is happening to me? Am I going crazy?

“Please Lord,” I pleaded, “If it’s a gift from you, teach me how to work with it. I will embrace it and use it for the highest good. But if it is not from you, then take it away. Please take it away.”

That night I cried and prayed for hours until I finally fell into a deep sleep.

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It Was Meant to Be

In my search for answers, I began researching on the web anything related to spirituality. I came across a few spiritualist churches with like-minded people. It was important to me that these churches worshipped God (Infinite Spirit) and only God. These churches seemed to fit what I was looking for. So, every week I visited a different one in hopes to find where I fit in. There was a particular one, Church of Spiritual Awakening, which made me feel more at home than the others. Still, I continued to explore all my options even though I already knew where my heart stood. But I wanted to be sure of my decision. However, I knew it was meant to be. I needed to further develop my God-given gift in order to help others grieving the loss of their loved ones.

Lessons I Learned

I learned to meditate at the meditation circle which the Church of Spiritual Awakening holds weekly. I enjoyed it very much and began to meditate at home as well. Meditation changed my life. It is different from praying. The way I see it, when I pray I talk to God. When I meditate, I listen to God. In being still and listening I learned so much about myself. I learned to be patient, loving and found inner peace. Things that bothered me before no longer did. I raised my awareness and consciousness. And also felt more connected to nature.

I began to see the world differently. There was beauty where I didn’t see it before. I began to change my mindset and way of thinking. I learned to view everything, even the hurtful situations, positively. It does not make sense for me to worry about something I had no control of. All of this improved my life. I found peace.

One Pair Anywhere

I Found My Home

Eventually, I joined the church and participated in the classes they offered – Introduction to Spiritualism, Laying on of Hands Healing, Introduction to Mediumship, Advanced Mediumship – and a few others. I continue my meditation as often as possible and have even taken up yoga. Contrary to what many might think, it has been a blessing. It has improved my life 100%.

We Are Spiritual Beings

So, what does all this have to do with my son’s death? It was because of his death my life was turned upside down. After his death, I realized there had to be more in life than just work to live. While he was on the Earth plane, we were close. Even after his death, I can still connect with him in the spirit world. You see, we are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience. We are energy. Everything is energy. Once we acknowledge and accept this, we are then awakened and can take charge of our lives the way we need to. The way we want to.

Grateful to Infinite Spirit

I love my son and miss him immensely. It pains me to know that he had to leave the Earth plane for me to realize that we are eternal because the spirit never dies. I can honestly say, that despite my son’s passing, to this day, I have never been happier in my life. Happiness resides within ourselves. Nothing and nobody can make us happy. All this, I owe it to Infinite Spirit who opened my eyes to the true nature of my existence – my awakening. I am forever grateful for the wonderful son Infinite Spirit gave me and for the opportunity and knowledge to continue to communicate with him. Thank you, Infinite Spirit, for never leaving my side.

Diary of a Grieving Mother’s Heart

Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart is a compilation of my grieving journals, rants, sadness, and joy. I’ve been through many different scenarios – both good and bad – which have helped me reach the place of peace that I now have. I invite you to explore my journey and I pray that, as it helped me, it will help you. You can find it on Amazon in paperback and in Kindle version too.

Healing, Life, Spirituality

The Effects of Practicing Yoga and Meditation in Your Back Yard

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I love being outdoors with nature – listening to the birds sing, the sweet aroma of grass and flowers, the sight of beautiful flowers blooming and luscious landscape. My yard is no exception. Plus add to the above the flowing waters of my outdoor fountain and the soft melody of my windchimes. It’s the perfect setting for meditation.

My Sanctuary

Meditation outdoors is not new to me. Every now and then I sit outside for as much as an hour of meditation. But I’ve never practiced yoga outside. The Florida weather doesn’t entice me to.

I have read that practicing yoga outdoors is more beneficial than in a studio. Practicing yoga outside can boost your energy, heightened your awareness, build confidence and boost meditation benefits. [See Yoga Journal]

My Sanctuary

As I stepped outside early this evening, I found it to be the perfect setting for a yoga session. The weather was just great – no clouds, no rain insight, and the sun was setting. So I took advantage of the opportunity Mother Nature had given me.

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Photo by Min An from Pexels

I brought my yoga mat outside and engaged in a wonderful, soothing, spiritual yoga practice, as well as a little meditation. The soft light of the sun setting, the trickling water of the fountain and cool breeze made it all the more relaxing. I felt refreshed, calm and peaceful.

Yes, I love nature and little by little I’m building my own little sanctuary where I can sit to meditate and practice yoga to my heart’s content. I’m very grateful for these beautiful moments. Thank you, Lord.

Grief, Healing, Life, Mother's Grief, Mother's Heart, Pain

The Feelings Behind Twelve Years of Grief

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2004 vacation – Puerto Rico

Will It Ever Go Away?

This month brings me a lot of emotions. On Tuesday, July 9, is the angelversary of my son’s death. It’ll be 12 years now. It hurts the same as the day of. I can think about all the joyous times we spent together. My mind is well-aware of what happened and accepts it. My heart does not understand. How can I repair this broken heart from the loss of my son? I don’t believe there is any way to repair it. I’m at a good place with my grief now. But, every birthday, holiday and this month, in particular, will always trigger these feelings. I don’t have to think about it. It’s only natural. It’s called love.

Can’t Help the Feeling

A person who grieves the loss of a loved one does not plan on riding the rollercoaster of emotions. It just happens. The feeling isn’t welcomed. It just shows up. We do not entertain them either, they just linger there. We don’t relive the tragedy. It just seems like the events of that day/night will haunt us forever. This feeling just grabs ahold of a person like it or not. No two griefs are the same and none compares to the loss of a son/daughter – the worst grief you can experience.

Even after 12 years, I keep the feelings between my husband and myself. I know he understands, he goes through it too. I asked my daughter how it affects her. She responded that she tries not to think about it and keep herself busy. I too, keep myself busy. That’s why I write. It makes me feel better to jot it down. It helps me release the tightness in my chest and lifts up the tension on my shoulders.

It’ll Be a Good Day

Yes, July 9 will be a difficult day for me. I am doing my part to make it a good day. Will I go to work that day? Maybe. I’ll keep a positive attitude and hope for a good day. And, as I’ve done these past 12 years, I will continue to do for him what he could not.

My advice to the rest of the world is to hold your loved ones tight and let them know how much you love them. Let go of the petty things and embrace each other. Life is short and not worth clinging on to the resentment. Don’t waste precious time in meaningless things. Blessings to all.

A Tribute to My Son

Words in poem below

The Great Eternal Silence

By Aquinas T. Duffy

Missing in the darkness, vanished without a trace.
With only the memories and photographs to fill an empty place.

Frequent prayers and fervent cries. Is there anyone there?
But the only sound was the silent, eternal fanfare.

For a long time, it’s a deafening sound,
subdued by a path through lost and found.

Laughter and sorrow, anguish and grief;
all the moments of life but with no relief.

Everything and nothing, one within between all;
gentle, loving, penetrating the eternal silence falls…

Grief, Healing, Mother's Grief, Mother's Heart, Spirituality

Not Just An Ordinary Day

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La Pieta by Michelangelo

This image is the sculpture of La Pieta in the Vatican sculpted by Michelangelo. It shows the Virgin Mary holding the dead body of Christ after his crucifixion, death, and removal from the cross, but before he was placed in the tomb. It is behind a plexiglass to avoid damage to the sculpture, hence the glass union line from top to bottom. I chose this image because I can relate to the pain Mary felt with the death of her son.

July 9 is just another day, not a holiday nor a recognized day of some kind, but just another ordinary day. That is for others but not for me. July 9 marks the “angelversary” of my son’s death, it’ll be 12 years. Time sure does go by fast. But, unlike the saying, “Time heals everything,” guess what? It doesn’t. There are things that cannot heal, and the loss of a son/daughter is one of them. At least for me. I just learned to live with it.

It is not that I dwell day and night on the fact that my son died. Nor do I live anticipating for this day to come, or his birthday. It’s something more and it’s uncontrollable. It’s the love we, as Moms, so strongly feel towards our children. Simple things can trigger the emotional rollercoaster, some so simple as looking at a calendar.

One day I was updating my calendar with future tasks reminders when it struck me. Right there in front of me was “July 9,” which caught me by surprise. It was there, glaring at me, tearing me apart. It felt like a dagger straight between my ribs and into my heart. All the memories of that night flashed through my mind and the tears started to build. What were just mere seconds of staring at the date on the calendar felt like hours. Our last conversation, our last hug, and the last “I love you” swept through my mind.

The smile that I had before seeing the date just melted away. I felt the sadness building up. But I didn’t speak to anyone about it – not even my husband as I usually do when I feel the sadness creeping over me. I just turned towards my son’s photo and whispered “I love and miss you” and continued to work. The more I tried to concentrate on my work, the more the thought of my son crept into my mind. I could see his beautiful face just smiling at me. It was as if he were telling me, “Mom, it’s okay. I’m fine.” And I know he is okay but, try to explain it to my heart which doesn’t understand it. My heart only knows that there’s a permanent hole which cannot be healed.

Grieving Mother Free Loving Memory Cards to Share

I don’t think there is a grieving mom who can say that she has healed after the loss of her child. Oh, I’ve had a person tell me that I will heal because based on her experience, after losing the love of her life through a divorce, she has fully recovered. Yes, she compared her divorce to the loss of my child. I wish it were that easy, but it’s not. She was able to rebuild her life with a new husband, but grieving parents cannot replace a son/daughter and that love does not subside. It’s impossible for it to disappear because each child is loved unconditionally. Grieving parents may or can have other children, but each child is their own person. Therefore, no one child can replace another. There’s nothing – absolutely nothing – in this world that can replace the loss of a child.

I know I will continue to grieve for the rest of my life and it’s because of the immense love I feel for my son. That’s okay to feel the way I do. I feel that my grief makes me work through the everyday battles we come across. It makes me stronger because, my thought is, if I am going through life without my son, I can get through anything. For me, there has been no worst pain. And I know that every time I feel that grief, it is a sign of what a loving mother I was to my child and still am to my other two children. This strength I owe to the Lord and am grateful to Him every day.


So, will I work on July 9? I don’t know. It all depends on what my heart is feeling that day. I will prepare to stay home and celebrate his life with my family – maybe cook his favorite meal and remember all the great times we had together. Yes, July 9 is an ordinary day for everyone else but not for me. It is a commemorative day which will stay with me for the rest of my life, and I thank the Lord for not abandoning me in these moments.

To my son in heaven, “I will never stop loving you or forget you. May you rest in peace.” ~ Love Mom

Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart 
by Debbie Centeno

Throughout these past years, I wrote about my journey through grief. My ups and downs, rants, joys, struggles and what I did to reach the peace I now feel. Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart can be found on Amazon in both, paperback and Kindle version.

Grief, Healing, Life, Mother's Grief, Mother's Heart, Pain, Spirituality

No One Grieves the Same, Nor Better or Worse

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Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels

Grief Is Always Different for Every One

Grief strikes differently. No one grieves the same. So when you compare your grief with mine, it makes me uncomfortable. There are many reasons to feel grief. It could be the loss of a beloved pet, loss of a job, a divorce or a breakup between two lovers. Losses are tough and I don’t wish it upon anyone. But, just as there are different reasons to feel grief, there are different ways to grieve. No grief is the same – even if we both lost a child.

Different Types of Grief

I can understand where a person may come from. I have a dog and I love him as my child. Losing my dog would devastate me. But there’s no way that losing a pet can compare to the loss of my son. I know a woman who had the audacity to compare her divorce to the death of my son. I asked her how is it the same? She said she lost the love of her life, not in death but in a divorce. It did not sit well with me. She will get over her divorce and maybe even remarry. But I will never be able to replace my son. How dare she compare her loss with mine?

Don’t Compare Our Grief

You can’t compare griefs even if it was of your child. My relationship with my son was different from yours with your son. Our griefs are different so please don’t compare them. I will never compare my grief with anyone else’s. I hope people understand the importance of not comparing such sensitive feeling because it is not the same. Let’s be sensitive to other people’s feelings and don’t compare.

Diary of a Grieving Mother’s Heart

Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart is a compilation of my grieving journals, rants, sadness, and joy. I’ve been through many different scenarios – both good and bad – which have helped me reach the place of peace that I now have. I invite you to explore my journey and I pray that, as it helped me, it will help you. You can find it on Amazon in paperback and in Kindle version too.

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Healing, Life, Random, Short Stories

Always Look For The Positive in Bad Situations

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My 2018 Reflection

The year 2018 is coming to an end. It is time for me to reflect on what I’ve done and accomplished. As I reflect on this year, I can either view it positively or negatively. Granted I didn’t get to travel but it was in my best interest not to.

Not A Great Beginning

You see, 2018 was a rough one for me. I began the year with two torn tendons on my left foot. Since this was an injury from 2017 which was not properly taken care of by the then podiatrist, I decided to begin the year with a second opinion. My first appointment was in early February 2018. The new podiatrist, suggested I get an MRI to compare with the one previously done by the prior podiatrist.

How It All Began

Let’s backtrack a little to understand where I’m coming from. In June 2017, I underwent a partial left knee replacement procedure. The surgery went perfectly well. I was feeling great, except for my left foot which was swollen. When I asked the surgeon about it he said that it was because of the surgery and I just needed to give it time. It made sense to me so I didn’t worry much about it. But, when my knee healed perfectly and my foot just got worst, I began to worry.

It Wasn’t Getting Better

One Sunday morning the pain was so unbearable, I had to visit the Urgent Care Clinic. At that point, I knew there was something more. The x-rays taken showed no broken bones, so the diagnosis was a sprained ankle. Beats me how I sprained my ankle when all I had been doing was resting my foot and cautiously walked with a walker and a cane. But okay, I accepted the diagnosis and began to treat it as such. However, it did not get better, it got worse.

Finally a Diagnosis

I decided to visit the same orthopedic group where I had the knee replacement surgery and have the podiatrist take a look at my foot. After more x-rays and no broken bones (of course), he ordered an MRI and gave me a steroid injection. I had the MRI done a week later and returned to the doctor’s office to discuss the results. The doctor confirmed that I had two torn tendons and placed me on a CAM boot for six weeks.

My first CAM Boot

No Hope or Relief

Once on the boot, I followed instructions to a tee. I was determined to return to my normal routine as soon as possible. So after six weeks on the boot, I was ordered eight weeks of physical therapy. The therapy was horrible and the pain excruciating. On my sixth week of physical therapy, I went for a follow-up. The doctor looked at my swollen foot and asked me, “How is it feeling?” I lifted my foot and while pointing to it replied, “As you can see it is still swollen and painful.” He got up from the chair and while walking towards the door, padded me on the shoulder and said, “Good, I’m happy with the progress. I’ll see you in three weeks.” And he left the room.

Sometimes We Need a Second Opinion

“Wait, what? Did I hear that correctly?” I thought. I was in shock so I put on my shoe and walked to the reception area to exit the premises. The receptionist asked me about the next appointment, and all I thought was, “Are you crazy? That nut didn’t even listen to what I said! Heck no!” But I only responded that I didn’t want to schedule it because I was going for a second opinion. That was the last time I visited their office. It was already December 2017 so I waited for the holidays to be over before scheduling an appointment with a different podiatrist.

Is There Any Hope For Me?

I finally visited the new podiatrist and as I stated above, before proceeding with anything, she wanted to know if the six weeks on a CAM boot and eight weeks of physical therapy improved the tendons in any way. In the meantime, I was back on a smaller CAM boot for six more weeks.

Me and my CAM Boot

The CAM Boot and I Are Becoming Close

I had the MRI done and unfortunately, the results were not good. The second MRI revealed that my foot was worse. According to the doctor, it was at a surgery stage. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe all the time in a CAM boot and physical therapy was just wasted time. I asked her if there was anything else she could do, besides surgery. She said laser therapy might work but there’s no guarantee that it would. I didn’t want to go through another surgery so I opt to do the laser therapy. I was on my way to seven sessions in three weeks of laser therapy treatment. I followed all the instructions given to me by the doctor and even slept with a Night Splint on my foot. I missed many days of work or sometimes left work early whenever my foot swelled too much. I spent many days with my foot elevated high. I was becoming an expert on foot elevation. 😊

Night Splint

Worst Part of the Treatment

It was now April 2018, the laser therapy sessions were completed, however, the treatment seemed to work about 50%. There was still some inflammation and needed more time to completely heal. The doctor didn’t want to take any chances of further injury so she had a non-walking cast placed on my foot. It was very difficult for me to walk on crutches. Heck, it was difficult to do anything. My poor husband had to work around meeting my needs. I felt useless and so hopeless! After three weeks on a cast, I could no longer take it so I called the doctor and asked if we could do another round of laser therapy. If it worked about 50% of the way, maybe it’ll heal completely with another round. She agreed to remove the cast and the second round of laser therapy.

Temporary Brace

It Was Finally Looking Better

The doctor removed the cast in early May 2018. While I went through the laser therapy, I had to continue using the CAM boot. So here I was with the boot again for the next three weeks. It was beginning to grow on me. 😊 Frankly, I preferred the boot to the cast. After seven more rounds of laser therapy, it was finally over. The sonogram revealed there was just a little bit of inflammation. Leaning on the cautious side, the doctor ordered a pair of custom-made orthotics and custom-made brace. Meanwhile, I continued on a temporary brace until the custom-made brace and orthotics arrived.

  • Custom-made Brace
  • Custom-made Orthotics

Final Stages

It was now mid -June 2018 when the orthotics and brace arrived. I was to wear the brace for eight weeks before using the orthotics. I then graduated to alternating between orthotics one day and brace the next day for six weeks. Little by little, it began to heal. I am now using orthotics alone. In the event that I’d be walking on uneven terrain or for extensive periods of time, I need to wear the brace.

My 2018 Shoe Collection consisted of a tall heavy black CAM boot, a short light CAM boot, a temporary brace, a Night Splint, a custom-made brace, and custom-made orthotics. Hey, don’t criticize. I don’t know if I needed all this but the doctor needed to make money somehow since I opted for no surgery 🙂

I Am Healed!

Yes, I endured a lot of pain and difficult moments but I won’t say it was a bad year. Amidst all the pain and difficulties, I was able to do a few things I had been wanting to do for a very long time. I enjoy writing and had been putting together my diary notes from my journey through grief which I wanted to convert into a book. I also thought about starting a travel blog. But my busy schedule would not allow me the time to write. This was the opportunity I was looking for. I was finally able to complete and self-publish my book, Diary of a Grieving Mother’s Heart, and began my blog, Traveler Wows, which launched in March 2018, and travel agency, Traveler WOWs Agency! I also continued writing for this blog. Come to think about it, I did do a lot!

A Blessing in Disguise

So, I didn’t get to do fun things. Most of my year was spent sitting down with an elevated foot. But I’m not complaining, I am healthy, alive and happy. I didn’t get to travel and you see why it was in my best interest not to. But, I traveled within my imagination when I wrote about all the wonderful places and experiences I had through my previous trips. Therefore, I’ll say that 2018 was a great year for me and that 2019 will be even better and will allow me to travel again. My advice to you is to always look for the positive in bad situations. Sometimes it’s a blessing in disguise.

I wish you many blessing and hope you have a Happy New Year. May all your dreams come true in 2019!

Diary of a Grieving Mother’s Heart

Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart is a compilation of my grieving journals, rants, sadness, and joy. I’ve been through many different scenarios – both good and bad – which have helped me reach the place of peace that I now have. I invite you to explore my journey and I pray that, as it helped me, it will help you. You can find it on Amazon in paperback and in Kindle version too.

Grief, Healing, Mother's Grief, Mother's Heart, Spirituality

We Exhumed and Cremated Our Son’s Body

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Photo property of Angie Radillo

At work, I had a conversation with a coworker. It was an uncommon topic, maybe morbid to some. We talked about death. I told him how I never thought about what I’d do if any of my children died. Would I cremate or bury my child? Of course, it’s not something we, as parents, talk about or even think about! We believe, or should I say, expect that our children outlive us. That’s not the way it is and there are so many decisions that we are not ready for if we outlive our children. My coworker had a different experience when his dad died. He had the opportunity to sit with his father beforehand and write what arrangements his dad preferred. When the time came they were able to grieve and not dwell on the arrangements.

When my son died, we didn’t know what to do or where to go. Granted we were in a state of shock but had it not been for my boss at that time, who happened to be a pastor, we were clueless. From what funeral home to have the wake, to the casket type, color, memorial cards, clothes for the deceased, etc. there were so many questions that we were not ready for. After looking at what was available we made our choices. Frankly, I just agreed at whatever. I was too consumed with grief to focus on those things. I think my husband made most of the choices and I just went along with it.

Richie_1

After the burial, I felt worst. I felt as if I had abandoned my son in the rain, cold and heat. Many might say it was just a body lying in a grave, but for me, it was more than just a body. He was my son. I felt so tense. The tension ran from my shoulders up towards my head and extended through my arms. My jaws were clenched so tight that my teeth hurt. My chest ached with every breath I took. Nothing helped the pain I felt. The Xanax numbed it but did not take it away. I cried every single day – in the morning, in the afternoon, while driving, while showering, at work, before going to sleep – at any time. I just wanted to bring my son back home.

Almost a year after his death, we, as a family, decided to exhume my son’s body, cremate him and bring him home on the first anniversary of his death, July 9. And, on the year after he was buried, July 12, we brought his ashes home. We had a small gathering with some family and friends to celebrate his life and the Pastor did the blessing of his ashes. We also enjoyed Richie’s favorite meal, dessert, and drinks.

Richie's Urn

I know that many people didn’t agree with what we did. There were too many opinions on the matter, especially from different religious groups. But I didn’t care. The important thing was that I felt at ease and content with my decision. It was as if the weight was lifted off my shoulders. My jaw relaxed, and I was finally able to breathe without feeling the pain in my chest. Plus, I truly believe that the Lord would not have given me the peace I felt once we cremated Richie’s remains and brought him home if it were not meant to be or if it were wrong.

That was when we realized that we needed to have a plan. It’s a gruesome topic for some but if you think about it, it’s better to have a plan in writing than to try to figure things out at the last minute while grieving. Like my coworker said, it helps to avoid confrontation within the family on what needs to be done. Should you be buried, or would you prefer cremation; where to be buried or where to scatter the ashes; what music to play and so many other questions. If we plan these things ahead of time we will spare our loved ones from the agony of having to go through this. In the case of the loss of parents, it will avoid any conflicts that may arise if one sibling prefers cremation while the other wants to bury the deceased parents. The siblings would just have to honor the parents wish, as simple as that.

Yes, it might be a gruesome topic to talk about but for the tranquility of all involved, it should be discussed. What are your thoughts?

 

Grief, Healing, Mother's Grief, Mother's Heart, Spirituality

Dreams That Comfort and Are Full of Sorrow

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I had a dream. It involved my husband and three children. In the dream my children were still young – about 9, 8, and 7 years old. They looked just as they did back then. Richie was just as curious and extrovert, my daughter with her big sweet cheeks and a tremendous appetite even though she was thin, and my youngest was his loving and hyper self. I don’t know what the dream was really about. All I remember was that we were happy to be together and that my husband and I enjoyed watching our children run around, play and then come running to us with big hugs and kisses.

Even though I enjoyed my dream and was happy, I realized that it was just a memory, a beautiful memory that will always live with me. My heart feels partially happy, but there is an inevitable, non-healing hole where sadness seeps through.

The part that Richie took with him when he left this world and that I know will never seal again. Whenever I enjoy a moment of happiness, it becomes bittersweet because my thoughts always turn to, “If only Richie could enjoy this,” or “ Richie would have liked that,” and sadness takes the place of the hole. I can’t patch it up because nobody will ever be able to take his place. I know my two other children and husband feel the same way.  We only have our memories to live by. While many say that I should think of the good times we spent with Richie, it doesn’t mean that those memories will make us happy because sadness will immediately follow.

I had a dream last night that brought me happiness, but in the end, it also brought me sadness. Even though it’s been more than 10 years, I realize that it doesn’t matter how long it was.  My son will always be in my heart, and I will miss him forever.

Rest in peace my son. Mom loves you.

Diary of A Grieving Mother’s Heart

by Debbie Centeno

Ten years of journaling my grief, anger, sadness, and joys now available in Kindle version and paperback on Amazon.