Have you lost your best friend?

[Jacksmom99]

Mary Doherty was my MIL and the rock of our family. Loosing her changed all of our lives in a profound way. I take a small amount of comfort in the fact that she was surrounded by all of her loved ones during her last moments. That room was packed. I also take comfort in our Disney trips and knowing that she would love that we continue to go together and our children are growing up at WDW. Another thing I take comfort in, and that I have never said in person, is that I love that our family drew closer together, and that we are so much a part of each others day to day lives. Kristin and I went from SIL's to close friends and "sisters" as a result, and I really am grateful for that.


Love ya Kris!

 

[SamIAm21]

I lost my Mom, my best friend, on August 24th. I didn't really come to the boards about it then because I'm not one to wear my heart on sleeve. But, tonight, I'm sitting here torn to shreds with her loss. I cry everyday at some point during the day, at a time when I see something she loved or when I speak and I sound just like her. Do you ever do that? Say something and it comes out of your mouth and you sound just like your mother? Remember when you used to dread that as a younger person. You'd think, oh dang, I sound just like my mother. Now, I hope it happens so I can sound like my mother. Days before her death, she said she wanted just one more Christmas. That was not be...

My parents wedding anniversary is next week and her birthday is on November 2nd. I don't think I'll even be able to function on those days. I can only imagine how my Dad is going to struggle through those days.

My daughter is upstairs asleep and I already know what she will feel someday when I leave her, as we all know it's inevitable. I could only hope to be as good a Mom to her as my Mom was to me. I will strive for that everyday. She is what keeps me going each day! My husband has been down this road too, so we both know how it feels to lose that person who is the very key to your existence, the person that brought you here, kept you safe, and nurtured all those big and little dreams.

I love you Mom and I always will...

Kristin, I stand beside you tonight whether you know me or not. We have both lost our best friends.

 

[robind]

I too, lost my mom, two years ago, when she was 66. She had been ill for a long time so while it wasn't a surprise, it was somewhat unexpected. My parents lived with me, but I travel during the week for work. I was scheduled to come home on that Wednesday, my dad called me that morning around 8 to tell me I needed to get home, because she was in very bad shape. Of course I changed my flight immediately, but by that time the earliest flight I could get was noon. She passed away around 9am. I am still angry that he didn't call me sooner so I could have gotten on an earlier flight. I still remember sitting in the La Guardia airport waiting for that flight, knowing I was too late.

Luckily, as I said we knew it was coming, she had asked to have hospice come in after her last birthday in March of that year, she was tired and didn't want to have anything else done for her. We were able to discuss what she wanted and say everything that needed to be said, so in a lot of ways we were very lucky.

I remember feeling like I had a lump in my throat so big that I couldn't speak or breath for about a month afterwards.

There are more good days than bad, but I don't think that I will ever fill that hole in my soul that's missing. I heard someone say once, that no matter what age you lose your parents at, you still feel like an orphan, and I must say I have found that to be true.

Thanks for sharing your story

 

[DisneyKevin]

I can become entangled in the unimportant stuff that gets debated on this board but every once in a while I am overwhelmed by the profound compassion and sense of community that can be found here.

I am extraordinarily proud to be a part of this community and have been the grateful recipient of the powerful positive energy that comes through from the amazing people that visit here.

I cant speak for others, but I can not tell you how much I appreciate hearing the stories being shared here. I am touched and inspired by each and every one of you.

I can only assume that heaven is filled with some very proud souls

 

[drakethib]

HI my DIS friends......


<sigh>


Today, well, 4 years ago today (in about 40 minutes) I lost my best friend.....my mom, she was 58.

I hope you can indulge me as I write this....I think it may be cathartic.....


My mom had a cold, that is it, nothing major......she got sicker and then, due to an error, got REALLY sick. She died on 10/22/05 at 5:34 pm.

I held her hand, I stroked her face......I said goodbye to the best person I knew.

She was my very best friend. Let me share a little from her eulogy....


"Growing up my mom and I had our moments as any mother/daughter team would. I went to Cardinal Spellman high school. For those of you who may not know, it is on the highest point in Brockton and on my first day, freshman year she drove me to school. It was unusual for her to drive me and we had some special time to chat on the way there. She told me that these upcoming four years would be the best in my life… I would love high school. Four years later, we took that same ride, up that hill, in my cap and gown. I looked over at her, she was so proud…and told her that if she was right about these last four years, my life…well lets just say it would not be fabulous. She told me that she had meant the next 4 college years, and again, on a hill in Framingham, she told me the same thing, and she was right….the impossible – possible.

My mom lived her life as a hard working example of what my brother and I were to be. She worked for Hills department store in the typing pool, soon the head of the typing pool and then onto MIS (I never knew what that was but that was how she answered the phone) and then, an ad went up on a bulletin board one day that they were going to train people on how to use these new machines, called PCs. They would train her and she could learn this new and upcoming profession. 118 people applied, they took 8 and I was never more proud of her. Two years later when her commitment was met, she moved to Gillette. Our linen closets were forever grateful. She loved working at Gillette and she climbed the ranks there too. She went from cubicle to cubicle to office, back to cubicle. She loved the challenges and the people. She taught Brian and me that hard work paid off.

To know Brian and me, anyone would tell you we are wired differently. We come at challenges differently, we mourn differently, we see humor differently, but we always come around again to a constant – we are a product of Mary Lydia Doherty. We are the adults she wanted us to be. Mom – I will continue to live the way you would want. I will love my family the way you loved ours. I will not allow this event to cloud over the joy that family brings. With each addition our circle grows larger – with each loss our circle grows stronger. There will never be a day when I do not recall our moments, our phone calls all the way to work, our shopping over the phone, our arguments about who would come to who on a Saturday, our laughing in the car, our Disney plans, our love of shopping, our faces. I look in the mirror and I see you Mom, I see the face that cried with me over lost loves and skinned knees. I see the proud face of a gramma, and the grieving face of a daughter. I see the love of children and the pride you took in our accomplishments. I will forever see you Mom.

You are the reason I am the woman I have become. You will always be my best friend and from now on – a story I tell my daughter and an example of the mother daughter relationship I hope to have with her. She will never forget you as you will live on in me. "

Today, I am reminded of how long it has been. How long since I saw her face, how long since I have heard her voice.

I thought the pain would get easier but every once and awhile grief just bites you on the bottom........someone once told me, "Grief is patient, it will wait for you."

After she died we bought stones at GKTW, it is a tribute fitting to her.....


How about you? Have you ever lost your number one person? The person you fear the most of losing?

How did you do? How do you do it? I would love to know....


Thanx for reading......


Kristin

I am sorry for your loss Kristin.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

 

[SGB13]

 

[Bornteach]

I can't tell you how overwhelmed I am with your stories and good wishes and how you echo exactly what I am feeling......


I do, even at 41, feel like an orphan.

I do hear my mother come out of my mouth all the time (and I think it scares my brother a bit! LOL)

I did lose a part of myself that day and do feel like I am not the same person but I now dedicate myself to making sure my children know that she was the best gramma ever.

It is amazing how the little things trigger the grief.....

Pumpkin Muffins from Dunkin Donuts are a huge trigger.....doesn't that sound ridiculous!

Thank you for all your great words! THey were so needed!


p.s. I love you too Kim!

 

[Kellygurlz74]

Alright that's it, we need to have a big HUG POW WOW at Disapalooza for those who will be there. Because I need one.

I recently lost my mom this August. DAP was going to be her surprise Christmas present as she had never been before, because she was supposed to have been strong & better. She had Head & Neck Cancer, then it spread from her lymph nodes, to her breasts, to her lungs...you get the picture. She went downhill very quickly in such a short time. I am having a very difficult time getting over her loss & never could imagine life without her.

For those of you who still have your best friend, live life up, and do all the things that you wanted to do with that person because you could lose them at any moment. Tell them you love them every chance you get.

You only get 1 chance in this life.

Big HUGS to everyone.

 

[Mouse Skywalker]

Hello Kristin: I just wanted to wish you the best on this difficult anniversary. I'm so sorry for your loss. It sounds like you had such a wonderful relationship with your Mother.

Kristin, I went back and had to read your post again, and it's brought back a lot of emotion for me. This has been hard for me to write, and I stopped and started, debating sharing it for a while. Two years ago, I lost my Mother - she happened to pass away on my wife's birthday. Your post reminded me of the feelings I had at my mom's funeral. The hardest thing for me was the realization of how long ago I had lost my mother before she passed. She suffered from Alzheimer's-like dementia, and had been progressing slowly downhill for a number of years. At my Mom's service, I stood there looking at my two girls realizing they never knew their grandmother. They never knew the strong, vibrant woman that I knew growing up. I remember we were able to visit my mother in August before she passed away in September. During that visit, my oldest daughter said to me, "Granny's doing good, she knows who you are." I miss her.

 

[alebisi]

I'm so sorry Kristin, I'm sending you pixie dust and my prayers are with you

 

[mainegal]

Kristin, I am so sorry for your loss. You and you mom had a very special relationship. I know you will miss her very much. As the days, weeks and years go by, the anguish will lessen. But the good memories will remain and will keep her alive for you.

My mother died this summer. Almost every day something will trigger and I will want to tell her something. Perhaps more often than when she was alive.

It is okay to feel a ton of grief. And accept the myriad of emotions that are part of the process.

from me, Lyn

 

[wildfan1473]

Kristin,

I am so sorry for your loss. It sounds like you had a wonderful relationship with your mother, and I hope that is a comfort to you.

 

[kaligal]

My mother died five months ago. Still have hard moments.

A couple weeks ago, I turned the corner to the kitchen in my parents home and for just the fleetingest of moments, I thought it was mom I saw at the sink. I was a little confused. Not even a half-second, but the crash that clamped down in my brain upon realizing it was Dad and of course could not be Mom, as she was dead, is enough to make me want to cry now.

Mom liked Disney. As a kid, I'd beg and beg to be taken there, but Mom always said that she didn't like amusement parks. I could go when I was older. After we went with the kids and she heard all of us talk about it, she decided she'd like to go.

We made three trips. She loved it. Any time I went, she'd make me call daily to report on what I'd done that day. If I had a schedule ahead of time, she'd demand a copy and read it each day. She wanted pictures of the hotel rooms. They could be found on allears and here, but no, she wanted me to take a pic of MY room. And not any pic. It had to be taken upon entering the room, so she could see what it was like before we plopped all our crap down.

So I'd open the door and go in and take pics of one side of the room. Then all the stuff got moved to the other side so that I could take pics of the entryway part. And close-ups of the bedspread.

Also had to take pictures of the view from the room.

And if it isn't too much trouble, video, too, please. It just takes another minute. But pictures are still necessary. They are two different things, you know.

It became a part of traveling for me. A pain in the ***, but a part of traveling - taking pictures of empty hotel rooms for mom and filming the same rooms as well as the view. I actually took the stupid video camera along JUST to do that.

Last trip I took, I walked into the room and realized that I didn't have to go through the whole thing. Nobody I had to take pictures for. Nobody who'd watch a video, even if I'd brought the camera.

I'd known before I left that I wouldn't have to do it, but didn't realize until I was there that the reason I didn't have to do it was because now there is nobody who cares about that. But it was like, "That's what I do. When I get into a room, I take pictures. That's how it goes." But my whole process was different now. I could just walk in and go about the business of unpacking. That picture-taking hoopla was now unnecessary.

My mother is dead and now nobody cares about what the room I stay in looks like.

I took the pictures anyway. Even stepped outside and took several pics of the view. I still don't know why.

 

[cathie1327]

I haven't had time to read through everyone's posts, let alone comment on them.

But I have scanned through them. And there are so many losses here, but even more, it seems like there are so many people who were in our lives that have touched hearts and made a difference.

9 years ago one of my very best friends Suzanna and her sister Tisha got into a car accident at the church just down the road from my house. I was only a freshman. I drove by the scene of the accident with my family on my way to pep band for a football game; that's where they were headed as well. I didn't even realize it was Tisha's car it was so badly mangled. But the entire way to the school the image wouldn't leave me and I couldn't figure out why it was bothering me so much worse than any other accident I'd ever seen. Arriving at the high school, I received the bad news. Many of us went to the hospital, but some of us stayed to play in tribute to two of our good friends, whom we weren't sure would make it through the night. Suzanna eventually recovered, but three days later, we lost her sister, Tisha. This family was like my second family, and as such, Tisha the big sister I never had. This year, marking nine years, I still cried at the loss of my friend and big sister. In the middle of our trip to WDW, none the less. But I took solace in the fact that she made such an impact on so many lives. There were over 500 people in attendance at her service, because she gave parts of her heart to so many. The most heartbreaking part was that she died at 17, and so to think of the difference she could have made if she had only been given more time...

I never thought I would feel that kind of grief again, until June this year when my grandpa passed away. We had moved him into apartments down the street from my parents and I, and we took care of him. We saw him every day, and I became so much closer to my grandfather in those few years. His passing was extremely hard for my entire family, and it was astronomical the loss that we all felt and how empty things seemed. I still find myself thinking "I have to stop by the apartments on the way home" or "Mom's not answering the house phone, she must be at grandpa's." I have even dialed his number a time or two, just to be snapped back into reality when there is a dead line on the other end. I still sometimes set an extra plate out for dinner, or make an extra set of cupcakes (Grandpa LOVED his sweets) or put his name on lists for family events. This Christmas will for sure be the hardest I have ever encountered. I still haven't deleted his name out of my phone or my address book. I don't know when I'll be ready to do that. I know that time is the only thing that will make these things easier, and over time they will lessen. I hope everyone else finds that comfort as well.

Thank you so much to everyone for coming here and sharing your stories of loved ones. It helps to know you are not alone in your grief, and that there's people going through the exact same thing.

 

[corky441]

Kristin,

My heart goes out to you today.

MY Mom passed away 3 years ago this past August and I still miss her so much. We would phone each other occassionally during the week, but EVERY Sunday at 10:00 am she would call me for our weekly chat. Some weeks we maybe only spoke for 15 minutes, other weeks over 2 hours. For quite sometime after her passing I couldn't bear being home on Sunday mornings. It was just too painful.

Sometimes now on a Sunday morning I'll just be doing things around the house and happen to look at the clock. Weird, but it usually happens around 10:00. I like to think that she's still calling to say "hi"

 

[aGoofyMom]

Hugs for everyone here. Kristen I am sorry for your pain now, but glad that you reached out here so we could all remember to hug our loved ones, and share our stories.

I was always close to my Mom's parents. I love my parents, but my grandparents were always Magic to me. My Grandfather firmly believed that his granddaughters could be anything we wanted. Not bad for a European Immigrant in the 70's. My Grandmother's english wasn't the best, but we usually could figure out her "Swed-glish". She taught me to bake at an early age. My Mom gave up on pie crust when I was 10. Mine was better. By the time I was in High School, I also was responsible for making the Swedish Rye bread for big family dinners. (don't ask - it goes well with pickled herring) I was 17 when both my Grandmother and her brother declared that my bread was better than hers. She was so patient in teaching me, and so proud that I loved doing it, and of how my skills had come along.
My Grandmother's family had some serious heart problems. Her doctors watched her heart carefully. She was able to alert my Grandfather when she knew something was wrong and get to the hosptial. My Grandfather called my sister at 3 am and told her the hospital wanted him to gather the family. My parents were on vacation so my sister and I were the closest. We managed to drive there in the middle of the night, and got there as the sun came up. We arrived to pick up Grandpa just as the hospital called to have him come back. Grandma died as we arrived at the hospital. It was as if she waited until someone was there for Grandpa. My uncle arrived later that morning, and we had to tell our parents over the phone when they arrived home that night. Neither my sister or I had ever dealt with death before.

When I was pregnant, I suggested my Grandmother's name as a possibility if it was a girl. DH agreed. We weren't telling anyone the names we had picked out. My Mom was at the hospital when Siri was born. When DH introduced her to her granddaughter, she started to cry. My family doesn't talk about grief much, but from that moment on, I have been able to have a real grown up friendship with my Mom. It has been great.

And just on a Disney note - my second trip to MK in 1978, my Grandparents came along. My sister and I were too chicken to try the Haunted Mansion so my Grandfather was elected to wait with us. My Grandmother rode alone. My Mom was freaked out and worried about her, only to reach the hitch hiking ghosts and see her laughing her head off with her ghost.

sorry if I rambled too much...

 

[UrsulasShadow]

Kristin,

That was a beautiful tribute to your mother. Thank you for sharing.

As for the grief...it never goes away, really. You just find a way to live with it. My dad has been gone now for 25 years this Thanksgiving. I was definitely "daddy's little girl", and got most of my traits and personality from him. I still miss him so much it hurts.

My best friend has been gone now for 10 years next week. I can't think about her without crying. She took with her the only person who ever really knew everything about me...the good, the bad, the downright ugly. We shared everything, supported each other no matter what. I've never felt so unconditionally accepted and appreciated as when I was with her. She went suddenly, in an accident, so I never got to say goodbye. I'm simply not the same person without her...she was my rock, my anchor.

I don't know if the pain will ever really go away. After 25 years, I've certainly accepted my father's passing...it's natural that parents go, and although he left too early, I feel it is part of a natural order. I still see him in my children, in my brothers, in myself, so I will always feel he is here in some way.

It's harder to reconcile Bonnie's loss.

 

[clombardi]

Hi Kristin,

I lost my best friend and mother in 2000. She was 59 years ols and died of cancer. Thank you so much for sharing your mom's eulogy today. I truly know your sadness and am so sorry you have had to endure it.

I decided to share a poem I wrote and read at mom's service.

A Mother’s Gift

From the moment I was born
I have been on a journey.
And on this journey I have traveled a path
A path on which my mother placed me.

There are days that the path is perfectly clear
And my only responsibility is to feel the warmth of the sun on my face
And the breeze through my hair.

And then there are days when the path is littered
And despite the chaos I step over and around the debris
And continue on.

But there have been days when someone has built a brick wall right on my path.
And I would stand before that wall and wonder how it came to be there.
And I would wail and beat at the wall but it would never move.

And at the moment that I would give up, falling to my knees sobbing,
I would hear a voice beside me.
“You can break down that wall,” the voice would say.
“I can’t. I can’t do it,” I would whisper.
“You can and you will,” the voice would reply.
And as I turned to the voice, there stood my mother, hammer in hand.
“I won’t break it down for you,” she would say.
“But I will give you the hammer and I will teach you how to break it down.”

And she would stay with me while I struck at the wall
Until it lay before me, a pile of dust.
And when I turned to thank her, she would stop me.
Placing her hand on my shoulder, she would say,
“I didn’t break it down. You did.”

And she would gently nudge me
Until I stepped over the ruins and continued on the path.

There will still be days when the path is clear.
There will still be days when the path is littered with debris.
And there will still be days when someone builds a wall squarely on my path.

But I will always be able to get through that wall
Because I will always hear her voice
And I will always feel her hand on my shoulder
And she will always be by my side.

And that is the greatest gift I will ever know.

 

[tanyabanana]

I am glad to have found this post tonight. I lost my mom 7 years ago this month and I miss her so much. My mom was killed in an accident at a construction company that my parents owned. My dad was operating the piece of equipment that killed my mom. I feel that I lost both parents that day because my father's feelings of guilt and grief has basically took him from us as well.
These past few days I have missed my mom so much. My family has been dealing with my daughters type 1 diabetes diagnosis and subsequent hospital stay; we just found out on Tuesday that she for sure had it. We were in the hospital until last night and I don't think an hour went by when I didn't wish my mom was there. There is just something about having a mom there to help out--no one else can fill that space.
We are doing well-- I try to keep my grief out of my daughters situation so it is so freeing to be able to type this out and acknowledge my feelings.
My heart goes out to the OP and others who have shared their stories. Thanks to everyone for making the boards a loving place to rest for a moment.

 

[Joshua_me]

What a beautiful tribute to your Mom, bornteach...

I have no doubt she was a wonderful woman, based on the daughter that she raised. A daughter who's love can shine through even on a Internet message board.

I can't possibly add anything to what's already been said here, except to say that in my opinion real love never really dies, and that it's clear to me that her spirit is all around you.

Thank you for sharing this with us.