What Happens When Your Mother Dies

By Yaro Starak
173 Comments

I don’t know how to start this article other than write the sad news that my mother passed away a month ago.

You may remember back in June 2011 she had a fairly significant stroke, which I wrote about in The Day My Life Changed and again in My Most Challenging Year Part 1: When Family Tragedy Strikes.

Since then, almost every day for twenty months straight, I visited her. To put it bluntly, it was one of the most horrible experiences I have been through, though I am grateful that I had the time I did with her.

I haven’t felt able to write about this on my blog. Understandably I am quite sad, which can be a bit of a motivation killer. That being said, having my business to work on is a welcome distraction too.

A lot of people who read EJ knew about my mother’s condition and would ask me how she was from time to time. I want to let you know what has happened, and in some ways write a tribute to my mother as well.

Needless to say, this article isn’t going to be exactly on topic with the usual EJ subject matter…

A Mother’s Son

Mum and I were really close, really really close.

I was an only child with mum. Because my dad traveled and worked when I was young, I spent most of my time with her growing up. We also share many similar personally traits, including introversion and sensitivity. A lot of what is me is because of my mum.

Having A Ride On Mum's Back

Mum was the most loving person I knew. She’s the best example of unconditional love I have ever seen.

Although she struggled to make and keep friends, she always had time for people and rarely complained about others (a trait I respect highly, yet often struggle to maintain myself). The number of times I saw people treat mum bad, yet she forgave them, gave me an example of the kind of person I could only hope to be.

Of course as her only child, I felt the full expression of her unconditional love.

When I was growing up some people said mum and I were too close, and occasionally I questioned whether this could be true. I now know as an adult, what mum gave me was priceless. The world would be a better place if more people had relationships as close as my mother and I did.

Mum didn’t push me to do things if I didn’t want to – and a very shy child doesn’t want to do many things outside of play by himself.

I sometimes wish she did push me a little harder, as I may have become a more confident person sooner. However, I’d much rather have an overprotective loving parent than one who forces you to do things you don’t want to, which unfortunately was often the case for my mum with her parents. I think she was very cautious not to repeat her own upbringing experience with me.

Mum wasn’t ever sure what she wanted to do with her life. I often found her sense of always seeking “something else” frustrating, especially because her rate of change was so slow, at least in my eyes.

I figured if she wanted to get closer to her life’s calling, she had to do more things rapidly. That just wasn’t her style and for all kinds of reasons, including a sense of responsibility to support her family, she stayed in jobs that weren’t want she wanted to do.

During the last decade mum became a counsellor, a role that was by far the best fit for her. She loved helping people, no matter where you were coming from and what you had been through in your life. She had incredible patience and work ethic, much more than I have ever had.

A Long Struggle

Mum spent almost two years in a hospital bed. She had a tube in her throat to help maintain her airway because the stroke damaged her swallow. Because of this she spent much of her waking day coughing, and she could not use her voice.

Mum and I mucking around in hospital

She lost much of the strength in her body, so could not stand up and even sitting in a chair tired her out quickly.

Her short term memory was damaged, and although her long term memory was still intact, she often went back to different times, even changing her name sometimes to what she was called when she lived in Canada.

To make things worse, because she wasn’t always aware what was going on, she could inadvertently pull the tube out of her throat, which would lead her to suffocate. Because of this we had to put her arms in restraints, so she was effectively chained to the bed like a prisoner when no one was there.

It was because of the restraints that I endeavoured to make sure mum had someone sitting with her during the day, so we could free her arms to do important things like scratch her nose. Although mum’s partner and I visited every day, we were not able to cover all the hours, so I hired some people to sit with mum, do exercises and talk with her.

I felt like I was running a little business. I created a roster so our lovely helpers knew when they had shifts. I would usually go in during the mornings, then a helper would look after her in the afternoon and Phil, mum’s partner would go in during the evenings after his work.

Mum showed improvement over the time she was in hospital. Unfortunately she was so far from what she was, improving from 10% to 15% of what you were, while positive, didn’t have a big impact on quality of life.

Of course we didn’t give up hope and always continued to plan as if mum would get better.

Close Calls

On many occasions, doctors pulled me over and said I should prepare for the worst.

This happened during the first week when we were in ICU and they asked whether we wanted to pull the life support from her.

It happened again a year later after some nurses made a mistake and forgot to put the restraints on her arms. She pulled the tube from her throat and no one found her for 5-10 minutes. She couldn’t breath and lost consciousness. Her heart stopped, but by then they had found her, called an emergency and managed to save her.

Unfortunately as a result of the accident, we were back in ICU wondering if she would come through again, wiping out much of the recovery work we had done during the previous year. This was particularly hard to take because it was human error that caused the damage, and before that we were feeling a sense of hope watching her improve.

The doctors had the same thing to say again at the end of last year. Mum had improved after the accident earlier in the year, but she had suddenly lost consciousness. Her blood pressure was low and the doctors didn’t know why.

Within a day with some treatment she woke up and was back to where she was.

Mum smiling on her birthdayThis is just a highlight reel of the bigger bumps on the road. The entire hospital experience was largely horrible for mum. She had drugs pumped into her daily, she couldn’t go to the toilet, speak or eat food. She had trouble breathing at times, including several boughts of lung issues, which were always scary because pneumonia is a big killer in hospitals.

On the positive side, there were times of laughter, especially with the nursing and support staff. Mum did smile and interact with the nurses, and I know some of them became attached to her, even though as nurses you have to be careful to guard yourself against becoming too close to patients.

Life In A Hospital

For me the time in hospital was like going to another world. You go there and see people who basically have to pause their lives, sometimes for short periods, or as is the case with most stroke patients, for months at a time.

Before this happened I used to be afraid of hospitals. On many levels I still am, but now it’s with knowledge of what happens, rather than fear of the unknown.

I was a wreck during the first couple months after mum’s stroke. The shock was immense, the daily decision making an awful burden, not to mention the constant contemplation of whether mum would die, watching her body suffer day after day.

Once we made it out of ICU after three weeks, things became more routine based and the intensity dropped a little.

It was at this point I became a control freak, trying hard to make sure every aspect of mum’s care was looked after. This was in part reaction to the change in conditions from an ICU environment to a more relaxed ward environment. While the care was good, the contact from nurses dropped, so naturally we felt the need to be more diligent as carers to fill the gaps.

I became obsessive over all the tiny details. Things like how mum was positioned on her pillow, whether she was too hot at the window, whether nurses were doing things the “right way”, did she get therapy from the physio and speech therapist that day, etc etc.

Hospital care is a variable that fluctuates a lot with the personality of each nurse and health care provider. Some nurses were brilliant, some were less than so, just doing what they needed to, trying to get through the shift as fast as they could.

After a few months of driving myself crazy trying to control it all, I realised I was being foolish. You end up causing yourself excessive stress about things that were either out of your control or minor enough that I shouldn’t worry about them as much as I did.

Of course I still continued to work hard as an advocate for mum when I was there, but once I hired a team of helpers and everyone knew how things worked, I began to relax.

After more than a year in hospital I swung in the other direction. From wanting to micro-manage everything, I became detached, almost numb to it.

Mum had gone through so many emergencies, close calls, change of helpers, not getting enough care, random surprises, hospital bureaucracy issues and unfortunately becoming a victim of triage meaning we were not a priority for therapy as other, newer patients — it all became a little too familiar.

We all adapt, and I guess I did too. It was still a horrible situation to be in, but nothing shocked me as much anymore. I still cared for mum, but the trajectory we were on was not going to change quickly, so it became routine.

Living Your Life

One of the hardest parts of having someone you love so much in hospital in the situation my mum was in, was trying to enjoy your own life.

Things like watching a movie in the cinema, or that feeling after a yoga class, or even basics like eating sushi, which mum enjoyed, triggered reminders that mum couldn’t do these things, and likely would never again.

I didn’t give up hope, but I was realistic too.

I came to appreciate what I called the “calm” times and worried less about whether mum was actually getting better. Those months where she was able to sleep for long periods, get some therapy even if it was erratic, and spend time with us watching DVDs, without any major hiccups, were the best.

There were times when I was frustrated that I couldn’t leave Brisbane, or that I didn’t know how long we would be in this situation, which was taking a big chunk of my day, seven days a week.

I would never stop supporting mum, that was a certainty, but the path we were walking was so unknown and difficult. On some levels I didn’t want things to go on, but of course I didn’t want mum to leave either.

After the hospital error that nearly killed mum, the realisation that every time I leave the hospital and say good bye could actually be the final time I do so, hit hard. I changed my frame to try and focus on being grateful. I began to cherish the laughs and closeness I experienced with mum, especially when it was just me and her.

People Suffering

Adding to the experience with mum, was what happened around us.

I saw people with all kinds of personalities and ages come in as patients or family members.

I saw children cry for parents and grandparents. I saw mothers worry about children, husbands look after wives, sisters and brothers embracing, fighting and laughing.

I saw people wandering the halls with lost expressions on their faces, crazy people shouting at nurses, lonely people trying to strike up conversations, sometimes rambling to themselves, and angry people swearing at the unjust treatment they were receiving.

There were young people unable to move from their bed and old people who had degenerative brain conditions so they didn’t know where they were most of the time.

Some people had seizures on a daily basis. On several occasions I had to bring a nurse’s attention to a patient who was flailing around in their bed, experiencing an epileptic fit.

I saw people with tubes attached to them, attempt to stand up, climb out of bed, then stumble, yank all the tubes out of them pouring blood, then nurses responding after they hear the thump of the body finally hitting the ground.

Hospitals can make you angry. You see inefficiencies, situations where just having one extra person sitting in a ward watching out for patients would stop accidents from happening.

Accidents require reports to be written, investigations to occur, and patients to head off for X-rays, blood tests and treatments. All of this costing so much more than the salary you could pay to the nurse to prevent them from happening in the first place.

Unfortunately policies seem to be reactive rather than proactive. Sadly, it can take a person harming themselves before they trigger the necessary conditions for them to get the attention they need. I’m not making this up, I actually asked some staff and they said yes, that is sometimes how the policies work.

In situations like with my mother, you would think the condition required additional care, but we were deemed not high risk enough to warrant it.

Death

Hospitals are where many people go to die.

The ward where mum was for most of the time had a revolving door of patients. Most of them were just moving beds, some going to rehab centres, some returning to their local regional hospital and occasionally, some went home.

There were times though that people did not have a good prognosis. One sign of this is when the palliative care team are called in, another is when they are moved to a private room.

I never knew exactly what happened to most people, but I did learn about one elderly man who was opposite mum for many weeks, who I talked to a few times. I also talked to his family, including one grand daughter a little younger than me, who happened to have the exact same birthday as me.

Her grandfather was across from mum for over a month, but like most people eventually moved somewhere else. I don’t know where he went, but I did speak to his granddaughter many months later and found out that he had passed away.

It was a strange feeling to think that someone I was talking to so recently was gone. He wasn’t well, but he didn’t seem that close to death either.

March 9th 2013

Early this year mum moved to a rehab facility at the same hospital.

Although initially cautious, once we made it through some hiccups, including one emergency that brought mum back to the old ward, we settled into the new location.

The new facility was in an old building, but because it was a rehab centre mum began to receive regular therapy again. The allied health staff were really good, and we had a direction to work towards again.

We enjoyed a calm few weeks in February. Mum spent a lot of the time sleeping, as she always did, but the direction we were heading in felt positive.

I had a routine of my own, the team of helpers were now well and truly familiar with mum (they had become friends) and life was at least productive, if not ideal.

I came in and saw mum on Friday, we did what we always did, I joked around with her a bit and she was in a relatively good mood. I waved good bye when I left, she waved back.

On Saturday night I was out for dinner with my friends. I would see mum the next day, for my regular sunday shift.

The night dragged on and our meals were really slow coming to us. I started the night in a good frame of mind, but I grew more quiet as my hunger started to impact my mood.

Finally our meals were delivered and everyone chatted and ate as usual.

I received a phone call around 11pm while still at the restaurant, a late time for anyone to call. The guys joked that it would be a girl, but I knew calls at this time were not to be looked forward to, it usually related to something about mum.

I stood up, walked away from the table and answered the call.

It was a doctor from the hospital. She asked if I was driving, I said no. I immediately knew something bad had happened because they wouldn’t ask that normally.

She queried if a nurse had called me earlier and I said no. She acted surprised, then proceeded to say that mum had gone into cardiac arrest and they couldn’t revive her. She had died.

As much as I had prepared myself for this moment over the previous 20 months in hospital, you can never really prepare.

I felt my blood rush, and went and sat down. I told my friends that my mum had just died.

I composed myself, made a bunch of phone calls to family and started what would become a very hard week, full of family from Canada, rushed funeral arrangements, the funeral itself and of course, feeling pretty lousy throughout it all.

The End

I’m still coming to terms with what happened.

Mum was always my safety blanket growing up, as many mums are. Of course as I grew older I became more independent, and in many ways I started to look after mum more than she did me.

Mum and I at my 22nd Birthday

I am my own person, which I told myself many times over the period when mum was unwell. I needed to contemplate a life without my mother, and reminding yourself that no other person defines who you are, even if you love them more than anything else.

On one level I am relieved. I can’t go back to my old life, but I have the time again to construct whatever my new life will be from now.

I am 33, mum was 63. I begin a new phase of life as mum ends her time on this planet.

I’m also relieved that mum’s suffering has ended. I know she would be incredibly angry that she left too early, she always planned for the future, unfortunately she had less future ahead than she thought. Living in the condition she was in would not have been what she wanted, so at least she has release from that.

On a personal level I am saddened that my mother will never get to meet her grandchildren, if I am to have any. The same goes for the mother of her grandchildren, if I am ever to find that person as well. This for me is one of the hardest things to come to terms with.

Having death come to a loved one is one of the most surreal experiences I have had. I want to talk to mum, tell her what happened to her, because she was the person I would talk to for anything major in life.

To wake up knowing that someone who has always been there, isn’t any more, is about as devastating as life gets, besides facing your own mortality.

It’s no secret that I have thought about death a lot before. It’s the primary driver behind my writings in The Change Manifesto.

This experience has changed me. I’d like to give you the positive take, that you should live life like every moment is your last and you may not have as many days ahead as you thought, but that’s not what I really feel.

I feel that death now is closer to me than it has ever been. I don’t mean that in a sense of how much time there is left before I die, but more about the realism that I feel around my own death. It’s more present now, more concrete.

No doubt I will reflect on this more as I continue to live, which as I have learned, is something that just keeps happening, no matter what circumstances you face. You can’t stop living until you die. It’s binary.

For now, I shall continue to distract myself with all the wonders of life that I enjoy, including the internet, writing, family and friends, the opposite sex, and ben and jerry’s chocolate brownie ice cream.

Sayonara,

Yaro Starak
Living

P.S. This track and clip by Tydi from Brisbane has resonated with me regarding my experience with mum and the hospital. I think it is an appropriate way to end the article –

Why does it feel like this is guaranteed…

About Yaro Starak

Yaro Starak is the author of the Blog Profits Blueprint, a report you can download instantly to learn how to make $10,000 a month, from only blogging 2 hours per day. You can find Yaro on Facebook, Twitter and .

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173 Comments

  • Amy

    I am so sorry to hear about the passing of your mother. My condolences to you. You wrote a beautiful tribute to her– it sounds like she was an amazing woman.

  • Hi,

    I am a bit surprised when I saw the title pop up in my feed reader, I was not expecting this sharing on your blog. I think it must take you a lot of courage to share all this detail on your blog.

    Similar to you, my relationship with my mother has been very close since small. With father being out all the time for work, most of my education and value was passed down by my mum. I came from a very poor family but that did not stop my mum from giving me and my sister the very best she and my father can give. My childhood memory was mostly filled with happiness, I must say I am blessed.

    I can’t say I fully understand how you feel but I think it must be a very horrible and exhausting experience for you. You went through so many during that period and still need to take care of so many other thing in life.

    Lastly, I just want to say thanks to you for this sharing.

    /Kian Hwee

  • […] just read the a post from Yaro Starak at his Entrepreneurs-Journey blog sharing about his feeling during the last 22 […]

  • Hi Yaro,

    First, please accept my condolences. I am extremely sorry for your loss. Please pardon my remaining comment if it sounds like a rant.

    It’s close 5am here in Chicago and I was just awakened by the storm outside my window. I was unable to get back to sleep, so I figured I would read through my news feeds on my phone. The one that caught my eye was this article.

    The reason is because I’ve suffered through the loss of my older brother back in 2005 (I was 25 at the time and he was 28). That has been the most traumatic experience I’d ever gone through. He was my mentor and a huge inspiration to my entrepreneurial spirit. So anything to do with another person losing a close loved one compels me to want to understand and help with what they’re going through.

    This is a very well written article and describes many aspects that I went through as well from seeing inefficiencies with the hospital to being “numb” to some complications that my brother had gone through while in the ICU. At some point you realize things are out of your hands, no matter how illogical it feels in your gut/heart/soul.

    The road to true acceptance of what has happened will take time. Heck, I don’t even know if I’m fully there yet — I don’t believe the hurt ever truly goes away. However, I do believe we grow stronger with it. And again, this is a great article. I believe more people should be open with this topic. I have no doubt your mom is proud of you. I wish you the best and if there’s anything you’d like to discuss feel free to reach out to me.

    Best,
    Fleming

  • Sorry for your lost!
    I have an idea what you are going through right now because I lost my dad a year ago and it was the worst moment of my life. When the time goes by things get a little easier but you will have the good memories of your childhood, the happy thoughts of your mother with you and these moments are the ones that keep us motivated towards our goals in live.
    I know how difficult this moment is but I wish you find a way to pass through this with perseverance and just with good memories.
    Once again, sorry for your lost.

  • Remco

    Yaro, my condolences.
    I too, have been trough a similar experience. I was 28 when I lost my mother, which is truly an ‘engraved’ moment in my life.
    Now, after 10 years, I have children who ask me about her, which is nice, but some times also emotional.

    Take your time to fit this experience in your life’s experience,

    Remco

  • This is sad yet very moving article, Yaro. I lost both my parents to cancer and it will be 18 years next week that he died. So I understand a bit of what you are going through. Although your mother is no longer with you, once the raw pain has eased a little, you will have some wonderful memories of your time together and no-one can take those away from you.

  • Patrick meninga

    Deepest sympathies. You are one of my heroes, nicest blogger on the web. God bless.

  • Deepest sympathy. My Father passed away almost 7 years ago. I was extremely close with him, & not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. Time is the greatest healer. You wrote a lovely tribute.

  • Shaun

    Sorry to hear about your mum Yaro, but like you said at least her suffering has ended. My thoughts are with you, when you first wrote about her stroke it did shake me up a bit. Of course I didn’t know her personally, but it just shows you never know what to expect. I hope you find peace.

  • Yaro, I am SO sorry to hear about your mom. I lost my mom 5 years ago. I still hear her voice in my head frequently, usually giving me advice or comforting me. It gets me through some tough times. I’m sure you still hear your mom too. Remember the good times and she is at peace now.
    As for strokes–I just had one this February 21st. I was lucky it was mild (and a warning.) It was from sitting too long without taking breaks. A blood clot formed in my legs and went straight to my brain when I eventually DID stand up. This is something bloggers MUST remember–take breaks once every hour…take a walk, do some stretches, flex your leg muscles. It’s very important to avoid my type of stroke.
    Once again, sorry for your loss. I love the video. ((HUGS)) to you from New Hampshire, USA.
    –Barb xo

  • Hi Yaro,

    Very moving and very well written.

    Best wishes with the journey ahead :)

    Christian

  • Yaro,

    Praying for peace and comfort, my friend.

    Joe

  • Yaro –

    This post really touched me. I lost my Mom in 2008 after a 3 year battle with cancer. We were very close. She had me at age 40 and I was her special child. I was fortunate to have the time to spend with her at the end like you did with your Mum. I am forever grateful that our last months together were close and I was by her side when she took her last breath. One thing that we spoke about before she died was the fact that Christians believe that there is no sense of time in heaven. I believe that your Mum will be reunited with you in what will seem like a second from now to her. You will live on this earth for many decades to come, but she will be with you a second from now. This was a comfort to me that I wanted to share with you and your readers. God bless you for the wonderful son you seem to be.

    Brad W.

    • Hi Brad,

      While I am not christian, I do believe the same about the after death experience, that there is no time as we know it, so it will be an instantaneous reunion. I take comfort from that too.

      The only challenge is for the living, as we certainly do experience time.

      Yaro

      • Byron H

        Hi Yaro,

        I know this is a late post. I just wanted to say sorry about your lost. I know how it feels to lose a mother. I was the last person to see my mother alive and watched her go into cardiac arrest at the age of 10. I am now 37. But I can still remember that day. I thought I would be able to recover at the time. But life has a strange way of making you stronger. I guess what I am trying to say you will be stronger and some one will need to hear what you just shared to know that they are not alone. I respect your honesty and your heart.

  • Rick Resch

    Hello Yaro,
    I’m sorry. May your Mum rest in peace. I’ll make sure to spend more time with my Mom and Dad so I can cherish the moments now than to regret later. God bless Mum, you and the family.

    Yours sincerely,
    Rick

  • Hi Yaro,

    I am very sorry to hear about this: May she rest in peace and all my thoughts are with you.

    Jennifer

  • HT

    Yaro, I appreciate and admire your courage in sharing something so personal as this. That was a moving tribute for your mom. Your post is another great reminder for me to treasure life and health of myself and my loved ones. Thanks!

  • Jonathan

    Sorry to hear about your mum Yaro, no doubt she was very proud of you. From the sounds of it you were a great son to her. If only more people had sons like you the world would be a better place….. All the best

    • I agree with you Johathan. Sadly often brothers leave it to the daughters and never realise what a joy they missed by giving their time to their parent in their hour of need.

      Yaro, you have been gifted beyond all imaginations to have had such a wonderful mother and to have had the time to share with her, when she so needed it. I can resonate with what you went through and am eternally grateful for ‘taking’ the opportunity of supporting my mother.

      You just have to think of her and she is with you . <3

  • Bec Watson

    Yaro, I’m so sorry to read of your mums passing. Your blog article was a thoughtful and beautiful tribute that’s left tears in my eyes. Hope you’re doing ok. Thinking of you, Bec (your old roomie from West End)

  • Hey Yaro,

    I got to meet you briefly recently in Bulimba before I flew off overseas.
    Was loverly.
    I actually saw you at the hospital 2 times later but you were busy with your family I expect so honoured your privacy (I was visiting a friend after a huge accident)
    Having lost a parent way too early (My dad my idol) I related deeply to your writings.

    I send you love and a huge smile as you build your next pathway with all the beauty in which she gave you.

    Stay connected
    Mia :)

  • Yaro, I am so sorry to hear about your news, I have been following you for a number of years now and your mother has done a fantastic job raising such a wonderful young man. I’m sure you made her proud and heaven has now got another angel laughing and giggling. :)

  • Sam

    Yaro I am sorry for your loss, what a tribute to your relationship that you showed such dedication to your mum when she needed you. Neither of my parents are alive and I have kids and it is hard. However a dream I had helped a lot. I was saying to dad ‘I miss you. You didn’t meet my kids’ and he said ‘why? I am you! I am your kids. I’m part of the DNA’.

    Another important lesson is that grief is not linear. Sometimes I can go for days not feeling it and others it physically hurts. And yet while you don’t get over it you do get used to it.

    Finally I have chosen to view their loss as a gift in waking me up to the brevity of life. I am braver and stronger than before. It’s the silver lining for sure.

    Thanks for such a thoughtful and thought provoking piece.

  • Anthony

    Yaro,

    An hour ago, as I worked my way through a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, I had no idea I would later be affected by a beautiful tribute from a loving son to his recently departed mum.

    The photo of you lying on your mother’s back reminds me of a similar shot of my three year old son with his mom. You two look so happy in that picture, enjoying each others company.

    Please accept my condolences to you and your family. And thank you for sharing such a private experience with your readership.

    Kindest Regards,
    Anthony

  • Hi Yaro,
    I’ve been reading your writing but sadly have never commented until now. I just want to express my deepest sympathy see you and the rest your family for your loss. Stay strong my brother and I’m so sorry for your loss.

  • Kathryn

    Yaro, Bless your heart, I’m so sorry to hear about your mom’s passing. I like to think that she WILL know your unborn children, may bring your wife to you (if you’re not together already) and maybe your children are with her now before they come join you. I wondered why you didn’t travel for so long — now we know. What a wonderful son you’ve been, and I’m sure you’ll never regret that time you spent caring for her in her final days. It’s astounding how often people pass when no one is around because there is no one holding on to them at that moment, and they WANT to go. The statistics are pretty amazing that way. My thoughts & prayers will be with you as you grieve. love & support, Kathryn

  • You have gone through a lot my friend, I know how it feels and i can imagine what you must have gone thru while writing this wonderful tribute to your mother.

    Once you get over this loss you will begin to realise that you are now more closer to your mother than ever before. She is just not there ‘physically’ but her soul, the energy and life force still exists and will always be there to guide you for the rest of your life.

    I am sure that your mother is proud of you and will always be. Keep up the good work my friend, whatever you are doing is truly wonderful.

  • > she had less future ahead than she thought
    We just never know.

    I think that’s why so much of life wisdom is about living for today, while spending time on things that create a better future, and live without regrets.

    Life is so fragile.

    When we lose people in our life, it’s a harsh reminder of just how unique each person really is. Nobody every replaces them.

    It’s also a harsh reminder of just how short life really is.

    I’ve lost way too many people around me, too early. In each case, I saw how much potential they had. I wished their life could have been filled with their potential.

    Life is short.

    As Covey put it, we need to find our voice, and help others find theirs.

    As one of my mentors put it, we need to live with Arete. He explained it as like a garden in full bloom on a Summer’s day.

    We’re all capable of so much more.

    We need to help each other bloom.

  • DANIELE

    It is a great piece of writing, a splendid example of true Love.
    Thanks for your honesty and great sensitivity.

    You have had the great privilege to be inspired by your splendid mother and your immense challenge of working so hard for almost two years to relieve her pain is one of the most beautiful acts I have ever heard of.

    Daniele, a student of yours, from England

  • Hi Yaro,

    First time commenting on your site, love your interviews they are great and very professional. Thank you for doing what you do.

    My mom is 59 at the moment, and I’m 28, so if I was 33 my mom would be 64, which made me think how fast time flies. I’m so sorry to hear about your mom’s death, and I personally have never lost a loved one I don’t know how that feels nor can I try to say “I understand” when I don’t, but just wanted to say that I will keep you in my prayers, that God give you peace and help you through this time.

    In regards to what someone else wrote above, I’m also a Christian and felt led by Holy Spirit to tell you that God loves you Yaro. His purpose for your life is just beginning, and He still has much to do with you. I know that you’ve felt at times that you’ve “done it all, seen it all” but I feel led to tell you that there’s still more to do, more lives to impact, and that those dreams that you have believed impossible, will come to pass.

    Jesus Christ loves you Yaro, and seriously I will be praying for you. Excited to continue learning from you and your guests on your podcast :) God bless ya.

    -Mike from Miami, FL

  • Thanks for writing this Yaro. I was an old friend of Zahava’s from our AIPC days and it was only through yours and her blog that I discovered what had happened. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to visit her in hospital, you always think there’s time, but it’s been wonderful to read about your journey together here. I know how much she loved you and how proud she was of you. I wish you all the best for the future.

  • Yaro I am very sorry to hear that your mum has passed away. Sharing this experience with all of your readers must have took a lot of courage but by doing so, you will find a lot of support and comfort from all of us that follow your blog.

  • Hi Yaro,

    Thank you for sharing your difficult moment with us and for being so honest about your feelings and thoughts throughout the entire journey with your mum. Your mum sounds like your personal superhero and you know what if the only legacy that she had left behind is you then she has obviously been extremely successful in her lifetime.

  • Very sorry to hear about your beloved mother. My father passed away last August. It was not unexpected. We knew it was coming. I was home when I got the call from the palliative care nurse that he had died. After many months of waiting… and expecting… it had finally happened. People told me it would hit hard even though it was expected. I told them I doubted that would happen because his health had been going downhill for so long. Within three minutes of that final call, though, I was crying like a little girl. So much grief and stress had been pent up. LIke you, I wrote about it, too, in my regular newspaper column. It was very therapeutic. May your mother rest in peace. I’m sure she’ll be dearly missed.

  • Thank you so much for sharing such a beautiful and moving tribute to your mom.

    As a mom myself, to a son and a daughter, I know that she is SO tremendously proud of having such a dedicated and loving son. Your care for her is truly awe-inspiring.

    Wishing you lots of support and connection on the road to healing from this tremendous loss. I know it will take a very long time to feel better, but sharing your story and connecting with others who have been through a similar experience will make you feel less alone.

    Hugs from Arizona,

    -Pam

  • Patti

    Hi Yaro,

    My sweet mother just died Saturday. She had Alzhiemer’s for about 10 years. To watch your mother not get the life of joy in the end is what breaks our hearts. Our mothers Yaro were beautiful women of courage and love. How lucky we are to have had them…

  • Matt Jackson

    Dear Yaro

    Your tribute made me cry.
    You have my deepest sympathy for your loss.

    Matt

  • Sid

    Dear Yaro – I’m almost lost for words… I lost my mum over a year ago and like you I endured a number of years supporting my mum and family. I recently moved back to be with my Dad and as such quit my job and started my path on the entrepreneurs journey thanks to you and your amazing story!!! You’ve been an inspiration for many years and helped me through some of my most darkest moments with believing in myself and dreaming of a better future. My prayers are with you and your family and please know that many, many more are rooting for you that is for sure!!! Life is full of trials and tribulations which never stop… What I do know is that even today when I feel like I need to talk to my mum – I know exactly what she would say and do… Memories are a source of comfort and I am sure like me it will carry you forward through the good and bad times… Take care my friend, Sid

  • Nick

    This is a very moving post. My deepest condolences to you. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose your mom. It is something I don’t wish on anyone.

    I wish you a lot of courage for the time ahead and hope you are surrounded with a lot of people to lean on to.

  • Hi Yaro, I never knew what it was like to lose somebody really close to me until my Dad died in 2008. When I hear of people losing their loved ones, I feel such sorrow for them because I can understand what its like to lose somebody. It sucks and there is nothing I can say that will make it better.

    That post about your mother is amazing and I enjoyed reading it. Just remember the great times you had with your mother and carry those memories wherever you go. You will cry for her when and where you least expect it. I would always cry alone while driving or in the shower for some unknown reason.

    Don’t worry about this post being off topic, because your mother is part of your life and this blog is part of your life as well. I wrote a post last week on my blog as to why I became a school counselor and I wasn’t sure if I should write it. I then thought to myself that that story is who I am, just like the website I created.

    I hope you will be able to come to terms with this tragic event in time.

    Sincerely,
    Chris

  • Hi, Yaro – I’m so sorry to hear about your mother’s passing. Thank you for writing about your experiences. So glad you were able to help her as both a companion and advocate. Hospitals are only as good as the care they provide, and I mean the human software, not the whiz-bang medical hardware.

    Death has been a part of my life since I was 7 when my father died from cancer. His death followed by my mother’s understandable emotional collapse made me a weird mix of compassionate generosity toward others but flinty toughness toward myself. Decades passed until I relaxed and realized how sweet gratitude for the so-called “little things” is. Still, that period of darkness and anger was part of the journey. Please be kind to yourself and allow your grief to work its way naturally. I suspect she might have suggested something similar. Sending you support, good wishes and gratitude – Rhonda

  • Lovenah

    Hi Yaro,

    I am very sorry for your loss. I realize how painful this has been and still is for you. Nobody has the power to replace anybody in this world, but you sure can find some solace in life. I believe that time does not heal all wounds, but makes us stronger so that we can live with them. Let God be your friend. I wish you lots of courage, and blessings.

    Lovenah

  • Yaro, what a sweet and sad story. I love the pictures and have just looked and looked at them- your mother’s smile, your smile- so wonderful, the love there. Thanks for stepping out and sharing this with us, even though it’s so personal. I’ve been following you for years and feel like I sort of know you, but now I know you in another way, and after hearing this story and seeing the smile on your face in these pictures with your mum, I feel a deeper level of connection with you. What beauty between you and your mum. I am so touched and I know your story will linger within me.

  • Thank you for sharing your experience, and blessings to you as you move forward on your journey.

  • Hi Yaro, sorry to hear about your mother. May time and patience heal your pain.

  • Doug

    Hi Yaro,

    I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. This time must be very difficult for you, especially as an only child who has had to bear this without much in the way of family support. Thank you for sharing your experiences about a situation that most of us don’t want to talk about. My condolences and appreciation of all you do for us as an online community.

    Doug

  • Michele

    A little part of me died forever when my father died. He went very quickly – just under two months from aggressive cancer and I think of him every single day.

    Often, it is the living who suffer the most in the end but life does go on.

    I wish you strength and courage Yaro.

  • Yaro

    I’ve thought of you and your mum often since you first shared with us here about her stroke and I’m so sorry now to hear that she has passed away.

    You’ve written a great tribute to her and I’ve very much enjoyed hearing more about your relationship with her. I hope it’s given you some comfort too to be able to share your story and photos with your readers, many of whom have been in your community for years now and feel we know you well.

    You will never lose your memories of your mum and if you are like me, you will realise that though she’s gone, she is always by your side.

    Marion x

  • Hi Yaro,

    I want to thank you for sharing your heart in such a profound way. Death is a reality as you said, and there is so much we can about life from it. I sit with people who are dying so they don’t die alone. This came as a result of losing many relatives and experiencing a traumatic brain injury years ago. Although I have a very full life today, loving others is one of my greatest joys.

    What I’ve learned from those dying is that we are not born broken. We are beautiful beyond measure. We are loved with an incredible fullness of joy but we are living in a world that doesn’t believe it. We are told by teachers, preachers, medical doctors, friends, parents and enemies, that we are somehow broken.

    What you did for your mom for over two years was help her spirit transition back to love. What she did for you was to help you see that you are not broken. You are a magnificent being that can reflect joy and love no matter where you go. That doesn’t take being an expert at anything. It takes coming along side someone, like you did for mom, and being a reflection of the deepest part of love. That is magnificently you.

  • Hi Yaro,

    Richard here from the U.S. – I interviewed you a while back on your success. I’m sorry to here about your mother passing away. It is ok to not ALWAYS maintain your balance while you bounce back from something like this, I hope you are doing well and have some time with your family there this spring.

    Let me know if I can help you out with anything or if you come back to the US this year.

    Richard

  • I can only imagine how difficult this journey has been for you and how vulnerable you must have felt in sharing this. Thank you. No one can read this and be unaffected. I have 5 sons myself and can say from a moms perspective that your mum was a very lucky woman to have you! May God walk with you as you grieve.

  • Cathy Pullins

    I said a prayer for you. God bless you . Thanks for sharing.

  • Louise

    Yaro – my most heartfelt condolences. The passing of someone close to our hearts can shake us to our very core. Sending you lots of blessings during this trying time.

  • My thoughts are with you Yaro.

    It sounds like your mother was a wonderful mother and a mature person. There aren’t many like that.

  • Petros Lefteris

    Dear Yaro,

    I am extremely sorry for your loss. Like we say here in Greece “MOTHER is only one!”.

    We consider some people as granted but when we lose them we feel a huge empty space in our lives in our hearts that may never be filled in again.

    Memories are the only that those beloved people leave us to accompany our lives.

    Regards.

  • My sincere condolences. There are no words to express how you must feel. Just know we are here for you. — Barry

  • Nan

    I am truly sorry for your loss. I lost my mother 2 years ago in March. I understand your sadness. I don’t want to get into beliefs as I know we all have our own and I don’t think one’s are better than any others. I do however want to just share one thing that has truly helped me in my loss. I have spoken with two different psychic mediums who have reassured me ( with evidence), that there really is life after death. I believe in Heaven, God and Jesus but no matter what your beliefs, I hope you believe or might at least consider that there is life after death. I think it may be comforting for you to know that your Mother is happy, free, without pain and so on. I have also heard it said that when people cross over they do not take sick or old bodies with them.

    I have referred to a list by a man named Bob Olson of what he calls “Legitimate Psychic Mediums”. He has a website explaining his list and listing those he considers to be worth one’s time and money. The website is bestpsychicmediums.com/thelist.htm

    Anyway, I wish you love, light and happiness!

  • Hello Yaro,
    thank you so much for sharing this very personal experience with us. I’m so deeply sorry for your loss. Being a mum to two young men myself, your story reminded me of how valuable our time on earth is. I’m so lucky to have my parents around – they are in their 80th, enjoying their garden and having their children and grandchildren around just to spend some time together. You are one of my favorite bloggers with a high level of integrity. Many blessings to you, and a divinely hug ~

  • Monique

    Hi Yaro,

    My thoughts and prayers are with you.
    I know your precious Mum is so proud of you, and the way you care for and inspire those around you.
    I pray that people come alongside you and support you in the way that you supported your Mum.

    You will continue to be in my thoughts,
    God Bless,
    Monique

    • CHRIS RUGABA

      Hi Yaro,
      I’m sorry for the death of your dear mother. May her soul rest in eternal peace.

  • Derek

    Sorry to hear of your loss Yaro, You have lost probably your best friend
    in the whole world. When you are feeling sad remember the good times
    spent with your Mother, especially if certain memories bring a smile
    to your face.
    Regards, Derek

  • Dearest Yaro –

    Of course we want to know. You are like family to thousands of us.

    We all wondered how your dear Mother was after the initial reports but were afraid to ask.

    I lost my mother after a long illness too. I have always consoled myself that I did “almost everything I could for her.”

    She was also the kindest person I ever knew. Never a bad word about anyone. She always told us that we do not know what is happening with another person’s life.

    You will go on. But a loss like this changes you. You are never the same.

    I will pray for your comfort. And the knowledge that you did EVERTHING you could to help her.

    Sending love and healing to you. And gratitude that you had that beautiful soul in your life for so many years.

  • Duane

    This was a great loving tribute to a nice looking cute lady…
    She even looked great in the hospital bed….
    A good thing to remember is that we’re all going to join her relatively soon….

  • Dear Yaro~So sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and stories about your beautiful mom. I know what it’s like, as I lost my father followed by my mother not long after that. I wrote her eulogy for the local paper. I enjoyed reading your tribute to your mother very much.

    I remember thinking about and writing (in my head) mom’s eulogy for months-which felt kind of weird, but I knew I wanted to include all of the fantastic details of her-what she often referred to as “average”-life. And, it was far from average. I wanted to share all the things about mom that made her life so significant. She led a memorable life–as I see your mother did also.

    All the best Yaro,
    Jean

  • Hey Yaro,

    My dad is battling cancer as I write this and for some reason he wants to deny his condition. He’s young and strong but not checking his health frequently lead to an advanced condition with prostate cancer which has spread already to his body (lungs).

    Even though I’m well aware of the situation and what the final result of this can be, like you, I don’t feel prepared at all for it.

    I have had a lot of thoughts like yours too… is he going to be alive for my upcoming wedding? Will he ever meet any of my children if I do have them? And the list goes on and on.

    With all this, I had my good share of panic attacks too.

    Just thinking about what it would be like (if he passed away) feels like my heart just skips a beat.

    Anyway, enough about me…

    I’m very sorry for your loss Yaro, my deepest condolences and prompt resignation.

    Sergio

    PS. You’re not alone man, most of us are going to have to go through something like this at some point so thank you for sharing your thoughts on this delicate matter.

    • Cynthia

      Sergio,
      I read your comment about Yaro and his mom. I lost my mom a couple of weeks ago from lung cancer and complications from it.
      I’m sorry you are going through this with your father. I remember thinking I may not survive the loss, but here I am doing pretty good just a week after her memorial service. Believe me that is not to say you won’t be utterly destroyed for a while. But the main thing is to use your words and behavior to express to him DAILY what’s in your heart and forgive him for any of his past, current or future failings as a human being and let him KNOW how much he means to you. THat’s what I did with my mom. Was I perfect? No. But believe me the grieving is 1000 times easier when you know you’ve put in all your efforts to show how you care and let them know that. Now isn’t the time for pride.
      I called my mom daily, 95 percent of the time. I lived 1/2 way across the country so I made sure to visit as often as I could. I wish I’d done that more often but as their condition advances they change, their personality changes and sometimes depression and anger really take their toll. They can get pretty mean (atleast my mom could!)
      As far as prognosis, etc. – even though it’s spread, my advice is to NEVER give up! My mom got diag’d 3 1/2 yrs ago with stage 4 and we JUST lost her. SHe was mainly asymptomatic up until a few months ago cause it went to the bones and that caused discomfort, and restlessness and loss of appetite. (beg. of the end). oh, and breathing problems. THat said, everyone is different and theres lots of targeted therapies coming on that show great promise. Gene-targeted and the cyber knife radiation for larger tumors. My mom didn’t have chemo, just targeted laser radiation and that was it. Kept her alive for a lot longer I’m sure. Anyway, I’d like to just say, I’m truly sorry your going through this with your dad. It’s hard to have a joyful life as their child when your constantly worried and upset about them. Take care and God Bless. CYnthia

  • gil

    Yaro,
    I am truly sorry for your loss. I am very close to my mother as well and can only begin to imagine the pain and difficulty you must feel. Thank you for your honesty.

  • Yaro,

    After reading your blog, taking your course and listening to your voice, I feel as if I’ve known you for years. I wish there was some words I could write that could take away your pain. I cannot. However, I can tell you that in time, the day will come when you can remember your mother and the happy memories will come to mind first.

    Andrea

  • Sheila LyonHall

    Yaro … My heart goes out to you as you experience the seemingly surreal movement of time that follows the “passing on” of a deeply loved one. In my faith, the Ruach HaKodesh, the Spirit of GOD, is a Comforter to those who mourn. My prayer is that you embrace this comfort and are able to move your life forward through grace and peace and the loving joyful memory of your dear Mum. Because of my sense of you as an authentically ethical person, I believe your life and work will graft to itself “another aspect” of Who and How you are to be in the world going forward. We who occasionally look in on you will no doubt see an even greater manifestation of your “Giftings” and rejoice. You are loved, Yaro. Shalom!

  • Dear Yaro, I understand! I am a RN who works with people with Dementia, and the snior population. So, I understood everything you wrote about! My heart goes out to you but remember you’re not alone. I still have my mother (physically that is). On the psychological level, she is deteriorating. I don’t know what’s worse, the physical death or seeing the deterioration of a person’s mind. Take some time to grieve, and focus on your own future. Life is too short! Enjoy yourself prior to getting back to business.

  • Ginny

    Thank you for sharing this, Yaro. The loss of your mother is the worst event of anyone’s life. I lost my mom to lung cancer in 1999. For over a month I couldn’t stop crying, more for the year of pain and indignity she had had to endure than for my own sadness. Although the outcome was inevitable she stayed strong as did your mom. She will always be in your heart, never far away, in the memories of your life together. I pray for your peace and comfort.

  • Bazia

    So sorry to hear about your pain and your mums passing. Its been 40 years since mine passed. The pain eases.
    You may consider talking to hear and listening. I find comunication is different but not lost.

    Ease to you.
    Thanks for your transparency!

  • Laynita

    Yaro,

    My sincere condolences are with you. Remember you have FAMILY across the world who care about you and what happens in your life!

    Take as much time needed off to mourn the loss of your mother. I think you already know she LOVES you dearly and will be close to you always.

    P.S. Thanks for sharing your tribute. As your mother transitioned, you to have been transformed, and because you’re transformed, we to will change in our life forever.

  • Greetings Yaro,

    I completely feel your sentiments. I went through a similiar experience with my Dad, who suffered from a series of strokes; each one more debilitating. The initial trauma started September of ’07; he made his transition in January of ’09.

    And yes, it was by far one of the most painful, helpless feelings ever;to watch someone who had once been a pillar of strength in a myriad of ways, become an invalid. I actually re-evaluated my opinions and perceptions of death; which helped me during the transition process and to this very day; as I know death to be a part of this life & on to the next one…

    I talk with my Dad all the time: he is one of the many angels that guide and direct me throughout my daily life.

    My diet has changed, my temperament is calmer, my relationship with others is better connected. I am able to find the sweetness in life; in the very moment, because I give myself the permission.

    It’s been said, “the ones that move on are having fun; it’s the ones that stay who must learn how to play.”

    Thank you for sharing.

    There is power in vulerability.

    Blessings,

    Roxanne

  • Yaro, a heartfelt condolences from us. You may not know me, but I’ve been following your blogs since 2006. I am also one of your affiliates in your Blog Mastermind program way back…

    My father also died a day after Christmas last year (December 26, 2012). Losing someone close and dear to our hearts is painful and sad. Everyone in the family was…

    But… good memories remain in our hearts.

    I wish you good life and good health.

    Regards.

  • My mom died in March of 2011, at age 93, after a two year illness. Because of my work online I was able to visit her every day and make sure she had what she needed. I still think about her every day, and feel like a part of me is gone forever. The most we can hope for is to carry some of the lessons and experiences we learned from our mothers on to others during the remainder of our lives.
    Connie

  • Renu

    I empathize. I lost my mom — my closest friend — three years ago at a young age. So far, it hasn’t gotten easier.

    Be well and take care. Thank you for sharing such a personal journey.

  • Dear Yaro – I am so very sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your journey with your Mum. I want to share your post with my friend who is going through the same experience. I know your story will comfort her. Hold onto all the love you shared with your Mum. That is precious and always there to draw on, no matter where life leads you. I’ve always admired your business style & sense, and I admire your personal style as well now. I know your Mum is so very proud of her son! Blessings and prayers surround you always.

  • Hi Yaro,

    I read this and cried like a baby at 61m this morning. I am fortunate enough to have my mother still with me but we all have to contemplate this moment at some point.

    May God cradle you close and give you comfort at this time. She’s in a much better place.

    Enjoy life, it’s fleeting.

    Onuora

  • Hello Yaro,
    Thank you for sharing this experience! Your Mom will be greatly missed! I am sure and I thankful to her for giving us such a gift, YOU!
    As a nurse, I know much of what you are speaking about! We just never know how life will come to us but I know one thing, thank God you had such a beautiful and compassionate Mom who loved you unconditionally like most mothers do. Even in her illness, I know you was a comfort to her in many ways whereby she more likely did not feel the total blunt of her illness and maybe not at all; because she had friends, family and most importantly, you, to bare the change and changes that occurred.
    You Mom spirit will always be with you and she in some special way, have released you unto yourself to continue life anew.
    Much Love and Much Love Yaro , Your Mom’s Special Gift to the World!
    She was so Beautiful in everyway! We will miss her too!
    Keep writing, and keep living!
    Thelma Harcum

  • Hannah Rose

    Hi Yaro!
    It was a good choice to write your experiences out for us. Your mother must have been an amazing woman, and we are fortunate to have your account of her.

    I believe all of us come more to terms with our finite-ness when we lose one or both parents–until that time it has been less of a reality. It happened to me at ages 16 (brother in Vietnam) and 18 (mother).And it sounds self-centere to say “it happened to me”, becuase they were only experiencing a passage that is common to all who are born.

    You had a drawn-out period of worry, hope, and managing affairs. It would be normnal to swing into something that proves to you that you are still full of life, even though saddened by what you were not able to control. You are young to have had to go through that.

    I have noticed that life has times of laughter and good friends, good health, good fortune, as well, but sometimes a long struggle seems to wipe them out.

    From the time we kids were tots, we were taught that this life is not all there is.That you change your destiny when you put the full weight of your trust in the ability of Jesus Christ to see you through this life, and safely into eternity to a life that will be so good, that it is almot indescribable in hujman terms. Just being taught that wasn’t enough. I had to ask myself where I was headed, one stormy night ihn 1992. Life ha been tough a long time, and remains that way to this day. I wanted to know that I was straight with God, should I not last till morning.

    I got out of bed, and, on my knees, asked Jesus to take my life and make it pleasing to Him. I began to study the Bible again, from an adult point-of-view this time, and listened to skilled Bible expositors. Without them, I would not have made sense of the fact of suffering in this w orld. Along with those who call themselves Christians, and know what you should be doing, but are in reality horrible people to know. (SOME, I said. Not ALL.).

    Some of my best help came from the writings of Catherine Marshall (To Live Again, A Man Called Peter, In Search of Something More, etc.)

    Looking back on that night in 1992, I see a person changed by the journey, but it happened without my realizing it on a daily basis. You don’t ever wake up some morning, feeling you have arrived, but you begin to notice your perceptions of events, situations, mistakes, hardships have changed. You have more compassion, and you are moved to joy in the smallest thing in the midst of hardship.

    As I read a lot of the psychological stuff for personal growth that’s available these days, I am thankful for the help it provides…and here’s the BUT: it helps you get through challenges and maybe learn to see things differently (reframe events, history, etc.) but it does not change a person’s heart.

    Jesus came on a rescue mission, to restore a lost world to a relationship with His Dad–forever. He wants to do a heart transplant, if you will, so we won’t rely on our own tendancy to settle for by-pass surgery. The human heart, says the Bible, is deceived, flawed, so our understanding of life–this one, and the next, is inaccurate.

    About a year ago, a relationship-that-wasn’t left me reeling. I started asking myself what it would be like to be pursued by an intelligent, imaginative lover, who wants nothing more than to enter into a total relationship with one. Who will never disrespect one’s wishes to self-etermination, but who hopes for an invitation into your life (or mine), to transform it with a loving, satisfyinhg relationship.

    And it came to me–every one on the planet is pursued by the God of the universe in this manner. For their entiretime, this Lover who paid the supreme penalty in order that we might live forever with Him, will pursue them. Hoping to be asked in to their lives.

    When we do commit ourselves, life begins anew. Oh the external challenges of this life continue. But the knowlege that we have a new Soul Life that takes us through what we call death straight into forever life, makes troubles less terrible.

    I heard it put this way–Life leads to death leads to Life and Hope.

    This life is not all there is!

    Thank you for this opportunity to say this. And very best wishes to you as you seek the way you will take!

  • My prayers and thoughts are with you Yaro.

  • Kevin

    Dear Yaro,

    Thank you for sharing such a personal story with us. I’ve only recently subscribed to your newsletter and I’m reminded of how humble your messages come across. I have felt this character trait in your other writings but it shines through ever so strong in this piece. I can only believe that your mum would be so proud.
    Best of health to you and please take care during this vulnerable time.

    Best Regards,
    Kevin

  • Chris Brown

    Seem we’re almost in a parallel Universe.

    Like you, I was an only child, and whilst we were ‘close’ as adults, we both Mum grew closer during the latter years of her life when I looked after her, and she often said I was more than a son, more a friend and a soulmate. (I might add I lived at home – at 55 – and when Mum was feeling low, I would still give her a cuddle on the settee)

    She developed a heart problem, and was rushed into hospital about 8 or 9 times in the last two years of her life. But the drugs used to treat the condition would often make her feel poorly in other ways. Which used to upset her as her mind was still 100% active, but fraility and old age (80) was getting to her. But I tried to keep her interests / mental acuity active as best I could, going on days out when she felt up to it etc.

    But it wasn’t the heart that killed her, but septacemia. She had stomach cramps, and the doctors decreed it was probably the bowel dying due to poor blood circulation. But they couldn’t operate to find out because of the weak heart, and any op would spread the poison further. In short, for the last three weeks of her life I had to sit back and watch her die. The days were spent under heavy morphine sedation, every waking day beside her, and sleeping as best I could in armchair at night. (I have no surviving family) Finally they stopped her pacemaker with a magnet.

    Then my aunt’s dementia got worse …so for last three years, I have been looking after her in her own home. But now, she has gone to a “CARE” home. And here I concure with Yaro about the “staff wanting to get their shift done as quick as possible” In short, they don’t care what happens to their charges. They put a CD on in the dayroom, and that’s their entertainment for the day. If someone falls over, they pick them up, dust them off and put them in their chair again, whilst the staff go back to fiddling their reports claiming all patients are well and happy. Add to that poor meals, many patients with coughs and runny noses, clothes and posessions going missing etc … (Clue: Here in UK, a private care home is about £800+pw – this one charges local authority £135pw)

    Like Yaro, I made notes of all the things that were wrong, such as accidents, missing items etc … but these were dismissed as “minor niggles” by the Social Services. Again, like Yaro, whereas once I was “pro-active” in trying to get things to change to meet my ideal standands, I too have been “brow-beaten”, and have to now sit back and admit defeat with the situation and simply accept things, even though in my heart-of-heart i’m still angry about things.

    I realised I had made a mistake putting in there and – whilst reluctant to do so because of the demtntia – felt I would best be able to look after her at home as I’d done with father and mother before. But Social Services will not let her out of the place as “they have her best interests at heart” She cannot even go out with me on day trips. (I’ve got to battle with them to let her out and – if I do take her out – can only take her out from 11:00 – 5:00 as patients are put to bed by 6:00 in evening)

    As you can imagine, as someone who has a compasionate nature and has cared for relations 24/7 for the last ten years, I’m not happy with the way aunt is being treated. People have told me it’s “for the best” as – since I’ve been looking after parents / aunt for several years now, it’s now “time to live your life” Not really. I still visit aunt 3 times a week to help relieve her boredom with the place, (and ease my concience perhaps)

    If anything, without any family members to care for, no other relations, no wife or children I feel even more isolated.

  • Yaro, I’m so sorry. Blessings to you both.

  • Sue

    Yaro:
    I am so sorry to hear about your Mum. She raised you well and you are fortunate to have had such a loving mother.
    My mother lives with me and she is getting older, 73. I know that one day I will have to face the same situation that she will be gone. Your post has reminded me to always treasure what you have and not to take anyone for granted.
    I hope you are comforted in knowing that many of us are thinking of you and hold you in our prayers.
    This was a wonderful and thoughtful tribute to your Mum.

  • You have given a great tribute for your mom.. Back in 2008, my mom met with a car accident and got her back bone cracked.. Now she cannot move without a wheelchair and cannot sit on wheelchair without the help of another person.. After that her health is continue going down year by year.. I have seen her crying, fighting with her life and even saying to god that why am I alive.. I do not want to lose her.. she is only 45.. I will work hard to get her in best hospital.. By now I can pray only.. You have become so strong and one day we all have to face these situations…

  • I’m so very sorry for your loss. You are blessed to have had such a close and wonderful relationship! Wishing you peace and strength.

  • Nickolove

    Dear Yaro,

    Thank you for sharing this. It was very courageous of you.

    It’s devastating watching someone you love suffer so much. The good thing is that you had the means to be able to make the final phase of her life as comfortable as was humanly possible.

    I lost my dad when I was just 10 and I still miss him so I know you’ll miss your mom for years to come but I hope your memories will be more on the many good times you shared rather than this traumatic period.

    Best wishes

    Nickolove

  • Mary

    Hello Yaro,
    I am so sorry for the loss of your beautiful mom.
    I just read most of the comments, and your openness and love really moved many people including me.
    Losing a loved one breaks our hearts open and it can feel shattered.

    I have had my share of losing loved ones and it never gets easier but getting grief counseling in my later losses has helped immeasurably.It is someone that you dont have to be strong in front of.

    It takes a long time to even accept what has happened, let alone heal, so be gentle and loving with yourself.
    Eventually, she may come to you in your dreams. It doesn’t heal the pain, but it is comforting.
    I wish you the best always. With Love, Mary

  • May she rest in peace

  • I am so sorry for your loss, Yaro. Your post was very moving, it is hard when we think of what we miss by loosing a parent so young. My father died just over 2 years ago and although he was much older than your mother and I hadn’t expected him to live to such a good age, it is still hard when the time comes. Remember your stories and cherish your photos so that your children will see how much she meant to you and have that sense of her being a real person in their lives.
    Louise x

  • S. W. O

    Yaro,
    I am sorry for your loss it is almost the same as what I went through.
    My mother was considerably older than your Mother but it doesn’t make it any easier. One minute they are the warm, loving Mother you know so well the next its a shell lying in the bed helpless and fragile. You know you want to do something, anything for her and then the doctor tells you words you dont want to hear “I’m sorry there’s nothing more we can do for her” It breaks your heart
    Yaro God bless you and peace to your Mother wherever she is.

  • David Perata

    Yaro –

    Man, my heart goes out to you! Please accept my sincerest sympathy at the passing of your mother. And yeah, it did bring tears to my eyes, because I’ve experienced many of the experiences and feelings you described.

    At 59, I have been going through a lot of changes which make each day a mental struggle. Daughter going off to school, her getting married, illness of my wife and watching her parents at 93 go through many of the same situations as your mom, minus the extreme discomfort and pain.

    My folks have been gone for quite a number of years, but what I have been coming to grips with lately is very much like what John Lennon describes in his song “Help”. When I was younger I was pretty confident and my goals and ambitions carried me through life with what was probably a false sense of immortality. But now that has changed and the 18 year old inside me has collided with the 59 year old, big time.

    Even open heart surgery a few years ago didn’t phase me because I still had this sense of not dying before I had accomplished this or that.

    One of the lessons this does teach me is that had I of been stripped of that feeling of being somewhat invincible – the surgery and hospital stay would have been horrifying, as it would be to me now. But because my perspective on life was what it was, I was able to go through that experience unafraid. It’s as if somebody had handed me what they said was a bulletproof vest in a gun battle, and I entered the battle with the confidence of that vest, only to find that it was only a normal clothe vest.

    Life is basically lived inside our minds, with our minds reacting to our experiences. There’s no way to erase the horrors you have faced the past couple of years – and the accompanying mental changes as well – but change is inevitable, in fact necessary for life. What is even more terrifying for me at times is knowing that I still must face the death of many loved ones in the future. That’s also inevitable, but I can’t live my life in daily mental pain over that thought. After all, we are dying from the moment we are born. Why do youth possess that feeling of immortality? Because death seems a long way off, which is itself an illusion.

    Ultimately, the perspective which helps me the most is that just as birth is a transition from one environment to the next, death is also just a transition. Lennon once said it was like getting out of one car and into another.

    When I think back at the life of my dad and how he suffered when my mom lost her mind and finally died, I realize that my memory is only that – a memory. He doesn’t go through pain any longer. There’s no need for me to relive his pain because it doesn’t exist.

    Plus, you will see your mom again and hopefully spend eternity together. Do you believe that, Yaro? In fact, she probably now has more power to help you than she had on earth.

    It would be oversimplification to suggest that you think of your mom as being on an extended vacation, but the fact is, you two will meet again and not be separated and there will be no paint, anxiety or suffering.

    Till that time, you have to carry on, and therein lies the rub. I know. It’s my rub as well. In fact, I believe we are all struggling with the same problem in one form or another. And that’s where you and I come in.

    Just as you have helped so many people – including myself – to construct blogs and change their lives, so can you you be a “pillar” of hope and strength to so many others through your life experiences. You have the following now. They’re not going to desert you for changing gears somewhat and getting more personal with them (us).

    Enough! Hang in there, man. It’ll be okay. You’re a great communicator.
    You’re in my prayers, and your mom!

    David Perata

  • mohammed

    Just read your blog, am sure you will remember the good times you had with your mom and get along with life.

  • Mary

    My deepest condolences Yaro. So sorry to hear about the sad loss of your Mum.

    I think she would be very proud of the wonderful tribute you have given her. She sounds like a wonderful person and a wonderful Mum.

    I know you are going through a lot of pain right now, and I know from losing my Dad many years ago, that it will take a long time to heal.

    Memories will always be triggered though, some will make you smile, some will make you laugh, and some will leave you feeling a little sad and lonely, but overall, you will get stronger.

    Thinking of you and keeping you and your Mum in my prayers.

  • Yaro, I am very sorry to read of your mum’s death, but inspired by the wonderful tribute to her you have written. I am one of the people who inquired about your mum’s progress quite some time ago. I lost my mother in 1999 at the age of 90 which was still too soon as far as we were concerned.

    My daughter and I are very, very close as you were with your Mum. I have had a pulmonary embolism and lung cancer so the possibility of my dying has been front and foremost in our thoughts. My daughter frets constantly about the thought that I may die and leave her, and I try to console her to no avail.

    I am going to share your blog post with her as I think perhaps it will help her to realize that other people feel the same way about their mothers, and despite the sorrow of losing them people can and do go on with life. If one does not accept death then one does not accept life because we all begin to die from the moment we are born. We just never know how much time we have so it is imperative that we make the most of each moment of each day and treasure the memories we create and share.

    God Bless you, Yaro, and I hope you will find comfort with the passing of time and in remembering all the joy you shared with your Mum.

  • Dear Yaro, your mother was blessed to have such a devoted son. You loved her well. I spent two years visiting my father , who passed away last month, in a nursing home and I am still left with memories of so many elderly never visited by family for weeks on end. The grieving and loss is difficult and like you I am still trying to work my way through. I am sure our memories of loved ones will make our life richer and fuller as time goes on. Look after yourself as well, Alison

  • Suzanne Torok

    Dear Yaro,
    Thank you for having the courage to share with the readers of your EJ about your Beloved Mother’s life, and death. While it is surely difficult for a while the love that you shared will sustain you and your Mother can feel your love even now. She no longer has pain and suffering. Her spirit and soul never dies.
    I am glad that blogging is therapeutic for you. I am just learning from the book Quantum Touch 2.0: The New Human by Richard Gordon and friends how we can ease pain, emotional and physical with love from our heart energy. You might find this beneficial for yourself. Take care of yourself, you deserve the best from the Universe and from yourself!

    Much Love and Light,
    Suzanne
    Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

  • Judy

    Wow,
    I am amazed that we were able to so beatifully express this two year journey. We all experience death around at some point in our lives. But I often find most of us can not begin to express all the roller coaster of feelings we experience during such a time. Your mothere’s gift of unconditional love was not only accepted by you but you surely gave her the same gift in caring for her the way way did. Wish I could hug you! Thanks for sharing.

  • Shawn

    Dear Yaro,

    I am sorry for your loss. I think it is wonderful that you could spend all that time with your mother during her illness, and I am sure she appreciated all you did for her.

    Shawn

  • Colleen

    Hi Yaro. It is 22 April 2013. I see from your post that the anniversary of your mum’s passing away was on 9 March. It must have brought back the memories of all the time you spent with her those 20 months. Thank you for sharing so personally and so vividly. I was drawn right in to your experience, and felt what you felt as you wrote the tribute to your mum. I know what it was like to lose my children – and still feel the loss. But there’s a time when a manageable peace ensues. Big hug.

  • Shut Mike

    Yaro, I am very sorry for your loss and the difficult times preceding that. Your mum sounds like a truly incredible lady, and you an incredible son.

  • I’m glad for you that you got to spend so much time with her, but sad that it was so fraught and difficult. My own mum left at 63 after a rapid decline from Cancer, and luckily I’d been live in carer for a terminal friend before, so I knew what the paradox was like of being glad their struggles are over, but guilty for feeling it. It shows you truly care for them, not for yourself, to be happy about them finally being free.
    It’s often taken as a joke, but honestly, mum visited me more afterwards than she had for years beforehand. I still feel like she drops in occasionally. I have a picture up on the wall I can look at when she does and say Hi back.
    Fingers crossed you get the same experience.

  • Dear Yaro,
    So sorry about your loss, only Jesus can comfort you the special way, He saves.

  • Ernie Marcum

    Hi Yaro,
    I’m sorry to hear your news. Thank you for sharing this part of your journey with us. As was said above, you have touched many lives and we care about you and I hope that is some comfort to you. Life is what it is and it takes and it gives. Cherish the good memories, help others and treat yourself with kindness. The pain eases with time, good friends and hard work. Call on us if you need to. Go easy on the Ben and Jerrys. All the best Yaro.

  • Michelle

    Yaro, I’m so sorry for your loss. I had the pleasure of meeting your mother several years ago when I was studying to become a life coach. She was a great help to back then and I’m sure she’ll be missed by many. xxx

  • Derek

    Yaro, I’m late to respond because my news feed didn’t refresh until just this afternoon.

    I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear of your mum’s death. I hope your coming months are less and less painful; It will get better, even when some memories hit you like a truck sometimes.

    Don’t forget to breathe. Be well. :)

  • Hi Yaro,
    I’m really sorry to hear that your mother has died after her long struggle. I too lost my Mum 12 years ago after a 20 month struggle with cancer so I know how you feel.
    It does get better I can assure you. I still think of my Mum everyday but I have some wonderful memories and I know she’s with me all the time.
    Stay strong and lean on your friends and family.

  • Faith

    Yaro – thank you for such a beautiful tribute to your mother. I appreciate the honesty you shared regarding your hospital experiences. I just lost my father on April 11th after some dubious events that took place in the hospital. I take comfort in the sentiments you expressed and hope that you find peace and comfort of your own. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  • Bill B.

    Yaro:

    So sorry to hear about your loss. I was 42 when my mom passed away in 2000 and while she lived a long happy life, for me it seemed like it was over waaaay too soon. It’s a lonely journey we all take when we lose anyone we love, let alone a parent. While time eventually takes away most of the sadness for the loss, it never really goes away completely and I think maybe thats the way it is supposed to be for us as humans. Once the pain and immediate sorrow have subsided, the occassional sadness when we thnk of our loved one that is gone reminds us how great it was to be lucky enough to have been truly loved, and to have truly loved someone else back. So thanks for sharing your thoughts on this, and while not biz related, I think we all need to take a moment here and there to remember that there is more to this race we run than just business. So take care of yourself, and know that many people have you in their thoughts and prayers.

  • Janelle

    My condolences Yaro, I am new to your blog but this was a heartfelt written post and I always say there is nothing like a mother’s love, it impacts for life.

  • Beautiful tribute Yaro, she would be so proud of you, and you had amazing dedication in your care for her during her time in hospital – I think its extremely rare that someone would be so selfless and a mum couldn’t wish for a better son! X

  • Des

    Yaro, expressing your loss and grief the way you have can be cathartic to some extent. That empty space that’s in your being right now will slowly recede … and be filled with memories of your mum. I lost my mother unexpectedly 8 years ago, and that’s what happened to me. All comfort to you.

  • Werner

    Yaro, thank you for sharing such a touching and difficult experience. I can tell you it is transformative, and in time you do learn to cope. It gets easier, things take on a sense of normalcy, but she will always be in your thoughts…always.

    Be well, my friend.
    Werner

  • Devastating and beautifully written. So sorry for your loss..

  • Sincere condolences Yaro. You have written a lovely tribute.

  • Inhee

    Hi Yaro,
    Not really sure what I should say other than so sorry for your lose.
    63 is just too young…. I dare say I understand how you feel!
    When I was a single I always thought of my parents’ death and I decided that I would somehow go with them when they die. Unexpectedly I met my husband and I left my parents at the other side of the world, now live in this strange country Australia for really a total stranger of my life… I have to say the thought of my parents’ death was pushed away from my mind for sometime. 15 years apart, they are now in 80’s and I noticed their declining health every time I talk to them and I am very depressed and sad that I may not be able to see them before they passed away. I don’t think about my life will be end when they passed away anymore but I want to be with them and share our time together before the time is up. I am trying to make some internet business working so that I can go and stay with them and still be able to work, which haven’t made through after more than year now…. I say this because I’d like you to know that how fortunate for you to be able to share “The Together time” when could’ve been easily the most lonely and cold hours in your mum’s life. I love the picture of your mum’s, they are all looking very happy and make me believe that your mum had very happy times with you. Well done Yaro!

  • A well written and caring post, Yaro. So, sorry to hear of your mothers passing.
    I know you are hurting now, but you have to immerse yourself with the things you love to do and your friends and in time, it will heal. Then you will be left with all the good memories. I know, because it happened to me too.
    Good luck,Yaro

  • I’m so sorry to hear of your mother’s death. I also lost my father when he was 63 and I was 33. I understand the deep grief you’re feeling. Please know that I send you my best thoughts and virtual hugs at this time of deep loss.

  • You don’t know me, Yaro, but I feel I know you a little from your writing — which helps me greatly. Thank you for writing about your last months with your dear mother, and all the best with the New You.

  • Allen Underwood

    Yaro,
    I debated reading this because I knew this was going to be difficult. Your account of the past two years you endured was brutally honest and I’m sure a bit of a soul cleansing. I’ve never met you and I’ve never actually posted on your site before, but I had to let you know that what you wrote is brave and I know took more out of you than any of us can imagine. I pray that you find peace and that you can get back to enjoying life even though these events are still raw. Just remember that you’ve been a positive influence in many people’s lives just as your mom was to those she encountered and her legacy will live on through you.

  • Ralph Hua

    Hi Yaro,

    Your mum was beautiful and you have her smile.
    Live your life beautifully.

    Regards,
    Ralph.

  • Kathie

    I am so truly sorry, Yaro. At times being alive can be so painful it takes your breath away and you can barely put one foot in front of the other.

    I spent part of last year helping to care for my Dad before he died. It took me to a deeper level of life that I wouldn’t have experienced any other way, and I finally realized that our parents bring us into the world and we help them to leave it – and we can do that well or poorly. You did it very, very well. I so respect all that you did for your Mum. What a tremendous gift you gave her with your presence and your thoughtfulness in in providing for her needs. You truly honored her and a mother couldn’t ask for anything more.

    The way you described your relationship with your Mum sounds like me and my oldest son. We too are very close, as well as introverts and sensitive. I’m very close to my second son too, and already I hurt for them thinking of when we’ll have to say goodbye. All I can do is trust that they’ll have the strength they’ll need when the day comes. They have been the best gifts I have ever, ever been given, and I can’t imagine my life without them. I’m sure your Mum felt the same way about you.

    I’ve thought of your mother over the months and wondered how she was. Thank you for sharing your story.

  • I am so sorry to hear about your Mum, Yaro. No matter how much you ‘prepare’ for it it’s never enough. I lost my Mum 14 years ago. She was my best friend. It still hurts.

  • She will always be with you. I live with my folks while I try to get back on my feet. I’m not sure if one can ever prepare for that day. Keep doing what you do best.

  • Roderick Mackenzie

    Dear Yaro,

    I am very sorry to hear your mum has passed away. I was reading the beautiful tribute to your mum.I felt very emotionally when i was reading your story about your mum.Your mum was an amazing women and you should be very proud of your mum.My thoughts and prayers are with you.

    Regards,

    Rod

  • Sarah

    Yaro, you wrote this so well and so honestly, and you covered everything. My father had diabetes, but died in palliative care with cancer, and my husband’s mother had a stroke and went through a very similar experience in hospital not two years later; though the hospital and subsequent rehabilitative therapies were long, she died about five years after that, without full recovery of her speech, and partial paralysis on one side. It’s a very hard thing, and while hospitals can be great places for medical intervention when necessary, they’re not a great place to hang out, if anyone can help it – far better to finish recovering at home, as soon as possible, when possible. I know you know what you’re doing and you have people you trust to see you through while you’re going through all this. The way you’re feeling at this time, it may be neither here nor there for you, though I do want to thank you for taking the courage to write so honestly and so purely from yourself; it is a very powerful piece of writing, and you really conveyed the feelings that accompany such an experience, for lack of a better word for such a painful and exhausting haul. The best part was the way you lovingly described your Mum; it was beautiful and so appreciative of her as a unique and special person, and the things that made her special were written so well they really resonated. If at seem time you consider it in future, you would do a fantastic job of immortalizing her in a novel, whether fiction or non, basing a character on her. Wow. You are both lucky to have had each other. I wish you the very best of everything, Yaro; keep shining. Sincerely, Sarah

  • Dear Yaro
    From reading your very painful blog, It was very clear that your mum was blessed to have a son such as you.. You were a blessing to her, a gift and you clearly love her very much.
    I am sorry for your loss but hope you will receive the same loving support you gave to your mother….
    with blessings to you
    Carole Zirlin

  • Chris

    I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I was very close with my family. I had a wonderful dad and mom who were very dear to me. I lost my dad to cancer in ’93. He had just turned 66. My mom’s health began to decline rapidly after my dad passed. She suffered much with pain from numerous falls, and with every fall, she required surgery. While listening to the news on February 17, 2012, about Whitney Houston’s family preparing the final arraingements for her, I received a call that my mom had passed. I am still trying to come to terms with it. Then while trying to contact my older brother to let him know that our mom was gone, I came to find out that he had passed three months earlier. He was 63. I am now all alone. I have no family left. Yet I’m richly blessed with a very good friend. But, I still wonder if the pain will ever ease.
    Not only had I planned to write about my losses, I had also planned to creating a video in tribute to my mom and dad with all the pictures I have.
    Again, I am so sorry, and I send you my deepest condolences.

  • Popi

    I was one of her students positively and profoundly influenced by your mum. Thank you for sharing your life’s moments. Courageous like your mum.

  • Yaro, I am so sorry to hear about your dear mother. Like you, my mom and I were very, very close and I lost her five and a half years ago… I still feel so lost even now. I know how painful writing this post was and I want to thank you for sharing it with us. I wish you peace and healing.

  • Hi Yaro,

    Please accept my deepest sympathy on the recent demised of your beloved mum. I am sorry for the loss. You have written such a beautiful tribute for her and I am sure she will be proud of you as a devoted son to her. I do understand how you feel right now but do not worry time will heal as soon as you go forward in life.

    I always enjoy reading your newsletter and you are such a committed blogger.
    Take care, my friend.

    All the best to you.
    Elaine

  • Hi Yaro
    I cannot put into words how much I feel your pain. I lost my mom in a similar way many years ago. Your post reduced me to tears and well done for being so brave to write it. However, I know that you also got some therapy out of it. Hang in there, eventually the sun shines again, I know that for a fact.

  • So sorry for your loss Yaro. Will keep you and your family in my prayers…

  • Dear Yaro:
    I am sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. Thank you for sharing this story. It provided an opportunity to pause and reflect on my own parent’s deaths.
    I can imagine the pleasure she must have felt when she saw you come into her room. Very courageous.
    Peace to all.
    Roger

  • I am a mother to a young son who I love beyond measure, I can’t imagine the loss you are feeling and at almost 50 I can appreciate just how young your Mum was and how much she still had to live. We as a family send our deepest sympathies and love x
    lisa x

  • Your story about your mum made me really sad but I really appreciate your courage to share it with us. May God bless your mother where ever she may be. Wishing you all the best for your future life. I’m sure your mother will be watching you.

  • Nozomi

    Hi Yaro

    Very sorry for your loss.
    I believe your mother was very happy to have you as her son.
    Hope the sadness will go away with time and leave you with all the good memories you had with your mother.
    Luv,

    Nozomi

  • Your story struck resonance in many ways. I have an only son. We are very close. Very very close. He is the star in my night sky. He is 19. I could not be more proud of the young man he is today. His integrity, warmth, creativity and wisdom. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I know that’s how your Mum thought of you.
    8 years ago I became a counsellor.
    I love writing and am looking at ways to reach more people than my hour of face to face allows…..I notice you blog!
    I just wanted to say that I have some insider knowledge of close Mothers and sons. That I appreciated happening upon your words. Your honest and heartfelt words. About you. And your Mum.
    I wish you blessings and recovery. I wish you the supportive loving people around you you deserve. They will /+……..continue to……… find you.
    Kind regards
    Gail

  • Sunni

    Hi Yaro,

    A few words in a blog comment don’t mean much, but… thank you for emailing this out. It’s a touching tribute that made my day to read.

    Your bond with your mum was — and is — extremely special. Nobody can ever take it from you. Not even death itself.

    Btw, as a fellow introvert / shy / sensitive type, I felt more comfortable to learn blogging from you than others. No doubt your mum helped you become the person who helped me and many others.

    She’ll live on through you.

    To finding peace,

    Sunni

  • Roni

    I am sorry to hear your Mam, deepest sympathies. What you have written about her is very touching and takes a lot of courage to share this. I understand some of what you are going through as both my parents passed away from cancer, most recent was my father just over 2y ago. I am 35 now and I know out of my friends and other people I meet it is rare to have had both parents passed away by my age. However I know that in some corners of the world I have had more time with them than other people have had a chance to with their parents. These precious moments live in us forever and your Mam will be with you for sure. You will have made her so very happy and that’s all we can do in life, make those around us happy in the time that we have.
    Wishing you many blessings, Roni

  • Phyllis See

    Cheer up Yaro! Knowing that she must be rest in a better place now compare to all the suffering she had.

  • I know how hard it is to woke in a day and everything seemed to change. I offer you my sincere prayers Yaro. This may not be the usual post you have yet I was very touch and move by your story. Being naive to bitter situation like this may not be as easy as breathing but you have to continue your life and literally breathe. I know it’s quite painful for you Yaro and I know how it really feels but everything happens for a purpose. Just be strong and make you mum proud of you.

  • My deepest condolences to you Yaro. Your mom was an amazing woman bringing you up. May you recover soon.

    Welly Mulia

  • Mike Duffy

    A moving story, and a great tribute to your mother.Having lost my own mother more than a decade ago, I understand your loss. You have my condolences.

    Take the joy with you, and move on. It’s all you can do. If you are wealthy, a significant donation to support she felt strongly about can be a source of contentment.

  • I’m one of you subscriber and I always read your blog and I am sad to know that your mother passed away my deepest sympathy.

  • Ruthmarie

    Hi Yaro,

    I was very sorry to hear about the death of your Mom. I had heard that she was ill and that she had been in the hospital. Your story mirrors my own. I lost my mother quite early as well – in my early thirties. Although its been 18 years, my mother’s death marks the main way I measure time. My life events either happened before or after her death.

    Like you, I was an only child and quite introverted. I was quite ill as a child and was a patient myself for several years. My mother, on the other hand was very gregarious. She was there for me during all those early surgeries and I was able to be there for her when she became ill. She was ill for quite some time, to the point that I moved back home after college. For her, the end was sudden, but not unexpected. She had arrested the year before and if I hadn’t been home to give her CPR, she would have died then.

    The truth is this – you will only have one mother. She may be gone from this earth, but she will always be alive in your memories.

  • Vera Basilone

    My deepest condolences Yaro. Thank you so very much for sharing your story and for giving us a glimpse of your beautiful mother.

  • Elinor McNeel

    Hello Yaro,
    I’m so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. My condolences to you and your family. Thank you so much for sharing as it brought back memories of family I have lost recently. Take care of yourself! The days get easier, but the void is always there.

  • Vicky

    Yaro, I was so sorry to read of your Mom’s passing. I remember reading your post about your Mom’s stroke and all the changes and challenges it brought into your life and your Mom’s life. You write with such an open heart and I am grateful you have allowed us to share, in some small way, this very personal journey with you. I feel honoured that you shared your Mom with us. It took me a couple of days to gather up the courage to read your post this time. I lost my Mom to cancer 18 years ago and it is sometimes still very fresh. I am happy that my last words to each other were “I Love You.” My Dad passed 3 years ago and there are still moments where I do not believe it. There is not day that they aren’t in my thoughts at some point. But when I look back at the time spent caring for them during their illnesses, I find that I am incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to be there with them. There are so many gifts in those moments and I have been made a better person because of it. Draw strength and comfort from those who posted here. We are all sending you virtual Hugs and a special place in our hearts.

  • Thanks for including us in your tribute, Yaro.
    I was there with you in the description, and send you my full-hearted wishes and prayers that you gradually readjust to your devastating loss.
    I have no doubt that your Mum,, and all the other wonderful Mums of those readers like me who have evoked memories of losing theirs, are not far away in spirit.
    God bless, always. Margi x

  • This was such a moving post, I lost my dad recently. It is something that hit me harder than I think I realize. I am 37 years old and also very close to my mum. Being the youngest of 3 siblings “the baby” I have always you could say gotten away with more than I should. I cannot imagine having to say goodbye to her one day. I hope that I can only be half as strong as you have been.

    My deepest condolences to you.

  • It can be debated whether posting this news should be kept private or made public. But I think most of us appreciate the length you have gone to share this with your readers.

  • Dinah

    It is difficult to lose your mother. I lost mine to a car accident when I was just 19 years old. That was nearly thirty years ago and I am now older than she was when she died.
    There will be many milestones along the journey of life where you miss her more than you think possible and I hope you can use those times to remember the remarkable woman she was.

  • Blessing Yaro.

    Our loved ones are not as far from us as some would think.

    Take care of yourself; continue to love and talk to your Mum …. and release her.

    To my way of thinking, they are the best gifts you can give your Mum.

    Rosemary

  • Yaro, I’m so sorry that your beloved mother has died quite young. I’m ten years older than your mum. Everyone’s life is filled with tragedy. I lost my wife twenty years ago. She was forty eight, a younger brother age fifty-seven and my dad at eighty-one. My mother is ninety-two. She has stage four Alzheimer’s disease. If you care to read my thoughts on her, they are on my blog. However, I’d like to pass on to you what was presented to me by a woman my age now when my wife died. She told me several truths, one that the pain never goes away. I can attest to that statement, not a day goes by where I don’t think of my wife, my dad and brother, but mostly my wife. The second statement was profound then and still is relevant now. You have to find a way to live around the pain. It took me seven years, and I hope you can find peace within your own heart and soul to move forward in your young life. Hold fast to her memory, and find peace in your heart.

    Allan

  • Anna

    Yaro,

    I’m so sorry to hear of your mum’s passing. It’s devastating to lose a parent, especially when you were so close.

    Thinking of you,

    Anna

  • Yaro, I’m so sorry to hear about your Mum’s passing. What a beautiful tribute and sharing of your heart. I am moved by your incredible strength and love, demonstrated by two years of caring for your Mum, even while you were experiencing trauma yourself, from everything she was going through. As another only child who was incredibly close to and similar to my Mom, I can tell you I started to feel like myself again after a year, and it was after four years that I finally felt I was fully healed from the devastation. I then felt more more lightness and was able to think of her with mostly sweetness. One of the things that strikes me most in your tribute is what a sparkle your Mum has, even in that one hospital photo, and how that deep spark of spirit seems to be something you two share, as well. Sending you warm thoughts as you heal from this great loss, and imagining days ahead that again filled with wonder.

  • Well, where can I start and what can I say as I am too busy wiping away tears streaming down onto my keyboard as I type! I too lost a mother AND father at a young age. People say, “time heals all wounds!” Well, it has been well over 20 years and it still hurts. But, stay strong and remember the good times you had with her. When you do have kids, do tell them about “gramma,” and how she taught you the realities of life. Telling your kids about gramma, will only bring back good old memories – it does for me.

  • Yaro,

    My condolences and apology for replying only now. I was out of touch with happenings on the internet lately and shocked when I came upon your post tonight.

    Personally I stood next to graves since childhood of friends, family, loved ones and can only imagine how you feel. I also learned life goes on. A question I asked myself many times is why it was not me. I realised it was not my time and there are still things I need to do – because I have a purpose. I had to find the purpose, as you will (or already did).

    I am convinced there is a reason for everything in life. These things happen to sculpture a person and to prepare you for the time ahead. All have a purpose in life. You have a purpose – I am sure you will fulfil it with honors and nothing can make a parent more proud.

    I salute your Mother and You for the example of caring – LOVE, which the world so desperately need…

  • What a wonderful tribute to your mum..Yaro..your story touches my heart. Be well. Love is forever.

  • Sorry for your loss. A mothers love is wonderful and keeps living in our memories. I had my mom pass away a few years ago, and was also struggling the last years. Good bless to all our moms!

  • Casey Avalon

    Your article has helped me feel a little better. Bookmarked it. My mom is in the hospital dying from liver disease and today the dr said she probably has 2 days left if that. All the stress has ravaged me and from my immune system being compromised after visiting her I got a double ear infection, lung infection and sinus infection. Currently laying in bed thinking about getting better but knowing she will be gone soon and when I get that call it’ll just make my world shatter. But I will alsi be relieved that she wont suffer. Its hard. And I know you know that. I am sorry you lost your mom. I am sorry anyone has to lose their loved one.

  • J

    “I want to talk to mum, tell her what happened to her, because she was the person I would talk to for anything major in life.”

    This is exactly what I’ve been feeling since I lost my mum one month ago. I don’t think anyone else would understand if I told them but I’m glad someone else felt the same. This post wrecked me but it is very well written. Thank you.

  • […] To begin this episode I talk about the biggest change and by far the hardest event in my life so far, the passing of my mother. […]

  • My mother is comatose and passing away now. The feelings and observations you’ve written feel all so familiar to me at this time. So many of the things you’ve said here, I nodded reading with tears in eyes. This essay is a treasure to me. Thank you.

  • Gaytri

    Hi,

    I lost my mother too on 6rhsep. 2014. She was a cardiac patient and I was taking care of since 15 years. Although she was not bed ridden. She was just 60 when she died and I am 31.
    I feel like world has ended for me. Nothing makes me happy now. I just pray to God that now I should also die, as I am unable to move into my life without her.

    Please suggest what to do.

    • Gail Bartlett-Harris

      Hold on to any support around you – even if you think they cannot understand how you feel. Seek a professional to talk to. You have had so many years with your Mother being a large part of your life. Recovery will be hard. It may be slow – but you can get to the other side. My heart goes out to you…..keep your eyes on the light in the future – even if you have to pretend it is there. Your Mother would want more than anything in the whole wide world for you to be happy again. So you will be. Blessings to you.

      • Gaytri Nagpal

        Thanks for your support. But why we always have a guilt that we did not do enough for our mother. We should have spent more time with her. These kind of guilt are always there.

  • Yaro, you’ve made an impact on my life since I started following you a number of year ago. But it’s been a while since I visited and I found this and am sorry for your loss. HUG!

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