Today

*UPDATE* I've added some pictures to the bottom of the post. Thanks!

March 26, 1949 was the day my mom was born. She passed away February 13, 2006 - a little over a month away from turning 57. She was young. I wasn't ready and I don't think she was ready either. Well... maybe she was ready to be rid of the pain. My mom was also obese. She dealt with weight issues for a very long time and was definitely an emotional eater...more so than me I think. When she finished the week at work, she would want to go out to dinner at the Sweden House buffet as a reward for putting in a long week. That became the norm and quite honestly is probably when some of my poor habits started. I can't remember exactly when it started, but she noticed swelling in her legs. A very large growth developed on the back of her left knee. This limited her mobility more and more. And while she knew what she needed to do to try to make things better, she didn't. Her poor habits continued. We went through a lot of the same family issues so I know that a lot of it was because of not knowing how to handle it. My brother and his wife had a total of 4 kids taken away from them. The first two we remember. They were 3 and 4 when they were placed in a permanent adoptive home. It was very sad for my mom and I. She lost her grandchildren and I lost a niece and nephew. The new parents had no interest in keeping the communication lines open. My brother caused a lot of grief for the family. But this isn't about him. My mom's legs continued to swell and for a long time, we didn't know what the problem was. We eventually discovered that it was Lymphodema (Not sure if I spelled that right). I had never heard of it, but started googling the term and did see lots of others who struggle. My mom had a severe case. It got to a point where she really couldn't walk. She had an adjustable bed in her living room. When it got to a point where she was soiling sheets and what not because she didn't get up out of the bed, she was put in the hospital for a while because infections started. Her lower legs were dark purple and I think she had diabetes, but didn't take proper care of that either. The seepage was pretty bad at times. After the hospital she was placed in nursing homes. I would take the girls and see her alot. It was very difficult. She would get all emotional and of course I would get mad because in my book, it was as if she wasn't willing to try to get better. I suggested that she get a scooter or something so she could at least get out once and while, but she refused. Pride I guess. Doctors wouldn't consider her for any kind of surgery because of the high risk of infection. So it went like that for a good two or three years... home, hospital, nursing home...it was very very difficult. The doctors, nurses, social workers all offered suggestions, but most of the time, my mom just cried and didn't want to try. I remember vividly the day my step-dad called to say she was in the hospital, things didn't look good and we need to come down. Thankfully, my husband was home because I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to drive. I was a mess. We got there and I walked into the room, looked at her and broke into tears and ran out of the room. I couldn't handle seeing her that way. It was too much. She was laid back in the bed almost flat (which she would never do on her own), she was pale and her breaths were infrequent and deep almost like a snore without the noise. After I composed myself I went back in and was still horrified. The nurses said she could hear me, but she was not responsive. I held her hand for a bit and told I was there with my husband. Honestly didn't know what else to say. I was just in shock I guess. We stayed there for hours...it was about 1 a.m. when I broke down again. I missed my kids and just wanted to give them a big hug. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to leave, but in talking with the nurse she assured me that it is okay to do whatever I felt necessary. My step dad was there and a good friend as well as my aunt. About 5 a.m. on the 13th, we got the call that she had passed. It was my brother who was the only one with her at the time. Weird huh? Those days are engrained in my memory. I find it hard that my last images of her are those of unresponsiveness and labored breathing. Today she would be 59. I love her. I miss her. And yes, I cry. Happy Birthday Mom. Today you can celebrate because you have no more pain and limitations.

And so... one of the reasons for the beginning of my own journey. I want to live beyond my 50's...well beyond if possible. I want to be around for my kids, grandkids of the future, etc. I want to live...

Later at home, I will post a couple picture of my mom.

To all my blogger buddies that I've made so far... thank you! From the bottom of my heart I thank you for being in the journey with me. I cannot do it alone. Ok, I need to end this post and quit crying (I'm at work).

♥ Dottie

This is my mom and step-dad when they got married. That's me in the middle :)

This is me, my mom (right) and my aunt (left) when I got married.
Again, I'm the one in the middle.

This is my mom...and you can kind of see how large
her left leg is. This was not it's largest either.
This picture is a few years old..and isn't the greatest either.