Thank you, my friends, for your kind words and input - right on target!
Each response made me realize I am still "too different" from the "normal" folks to really fit in right now.
I think in my attempt to re-engage in the world I failed to acknowledge the scope of my caregiving days and Mother's passing at home. Maybe in all this I feel if I talk about the toll of caregiving others will think I did it because I had to and not out of love. Not that it matters what others may think because for those of you who know me, you know each step of that journey was taken with love. It was my choice. I suppose others may know that, but you understand and feel that - a big difference.
Lori, I, too, wasn't sick or getting injured from September 2002 to August 2007 except for the anxiety attacks last summer. Probably the healthiest I had been as an adult. But I am certainly making up for it now.
Snick, thanks for reminding me of some of those final moments, not that I had forgotten. From beginning to end, those 52 minutes are forever etched into my brain and memory. The thing I find odd is that it was such a spiritual, peaceful time and transition, and now I seem to have lost my spiritual direction. Of course, having had Mother as my spiritual guide my whole life may have something to do with that.
And my dear Patricia, thank you for putting things in perspective and helping me once again know in my heart there truly is a future transition for me in this part of the journey.
Now, Jackie, think about our mindsets: as active caregivers, we want time to sleep and be sick! In the old days, I would have wanted time to party and have a good time. Can we really change that much?
Oh, btw, Lori, I need to compress the 4-day eating time to 3 or less days because I have enough fresh eggs left to make 4 more cakes before the egg expiration date of 11/16/07. If that sounds strange, just know that my cooking experience suggests EVERYTHING gets trashed on its expiration date!
Thanks for listening and being here for me.
Love, thoughts and prayers to each of you,
Joyce