weary

Death looks like a lot of different things for a lot of different people. For some, it is sudden and shocking. For others it is a welcome reprieve from suffering, or maybe a sacred celebration, a part of the cyclical nature of renewal and decay. But it rarely is easy to be the ones left behind, to say goodbye to someone who you love, even if you know that they are hurting too much for it to be fair for them to continue living. 

That's where I am right now. Sitting and waiting really, for death to sneak in and rescue my mother from the weary, painful suffering of metastatic melanoma which has ravaged her mind and her body, and weighed heavily upon her soul. 

We went to the doctor with her today, to talk to her surgeon and hear it like it is, I guess you could say. After showing us a series of MRIs that have tracked the tumors as they have grown in my mom's brain and body, the doc asked if we had any questions. Well of course we had a plethora, not that we asked most of them. I for one am still confused. How did harmless lil melanoma come to destroy my mom, the formidable and fiercely independent woman who shone like a light for so many? Was her lackadaisical application of sunscreen in the 80s really to blame? Why has she fought for so long, even though there is no way for her to win? What is the point of her outliving predictions if she gets weaker and weaker, and hurts all the fucking time? Was it really worth all the resources it has taken for her to struggle along like this? Would they have been put to better use elsewhere? Why?

We somehow meandered to the joyful question of how. How will she die? Isn't that a fun question to ask? 6 Potters and a doctor, gathered in a depressing hospital room, tossing around potential methods of demise. I guess it's better than ignorance? The doc was not short on ideas, as he suggested that she might have multiple serious seizures, become unconscious and then stop breathing. Or it could be a blood clot, or maybe a blood vessel in her brain bursting due to tumor growth. Maybe the tumors on her liver or lung will impair the functioning of those organs and that is how she will go. Really, it's all up in the air, but as I sat there, I found myself selfishly hoping to be absent at the moment of her departure. How sad is that? I cannot imagine how traumatic it would be to witness the death of one's own mother before I was legally able to rent a car. But if I'm not the one home, it would be Jenae or Callie, both of whom are still in high school. That seems worse.