May 10, 2011
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A mother of two… a mother to you.
I have two healthy children that brighten my days. I never once regret them in my life. AC impresses me with her spirit, her intelligence, and her will to be my equal. WC warms my heart with his sweetness, affection, and purity of emotions. I have a loving husband, and a supportive family. Life is good.
I’ve gone through the process of signing up for life insurance, and I’ve been evaluating my life. Every little bit adds up to make a big impact. I’ve spent my 20′s living it up, and I don’t regret it. I’ve been thinking a lot about making sure things are in order. I’ve re-evaluated my goals- financial, career, etc. and am working through a plan for my goals.
But what about at the end of my days? What would I do if knew I had a terminal illness. What would my thoughts be. Starting at the end, I’m working my way backwards to formulate a plan for my life. Seems morbid, but it’s a way to make sure that I’m not caught off guard. I’d want my life to be documented, so my children would know me. Not just as the mommy… but as a multi-faceted person who has dreams, insecurities, and convictions. I’d want them to know the real me that we may be afraid to show the world. That’s always been one of the motivating factors of having a blog. I would want my children to know who I am at the different stages of my life. And it also helps to be reminded of an earlier, more innocent me. I’d want them to know that I had no reservations about being who I am, but sometimes I wasn’t sure. i’d want my kids to know that I love them with all my heart. That they bring joy to my life in more ways that could be articulated by the written word.
If I were to pass suddenly in the night, I’d want my children to sleep through and be told in the morning. I imagine my spirit entering their dreams to say good bye. If it was during the day, I’d want the adults to internalize and be calm before my kids knew. I’ve always thought it was important to be strong for the people you care about. I’d want them to hold tightly to the moments of happiness while the grieve… so hopefully it will pass quickly. I’d want them to know just because the pain of loss has lost its edge, doesn’t mean that they loved me any less. And that I know, with every bit of my existence, that I was loved by my husband and children.
If I happen to come down with a terminal illness, quality of life is very important to me. I’m a numbers gal, and I don’t want to undergo procedures for a 1 in a 100,000 chance that things will get better. To what end? To extend a few months of my life while i’m hooked up to breathing tubes and zoned out on pain killers? It’s not about giving up- its about understanding how much time you have left and making the most of it. I’d want the time to say everything i wanted to say to all the people who are dear to me- while I was still lucid. I’d want to have an image of a smiling me still fresh in their minds when I passed. I wouldn’t want to be on life support for too long. I’d want to be there for everyone to share themselves with me, but more importantly, I’d want everyone to find their peace and let me go so they can live their lives.
I’d want my husband to remarry a good person. I’d want my children to have a mother figure, and my husband to have a companion in his later years. I want my children to be there for each other, always. At the end, I want everyone else to resume their lives, as soon as they’re ready to.
Letting Go: What should medicine do when it can’t save your life?
Read more http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/08/02/100802fa_fact_gawande#ixzz1Lyt7CSp8
