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Growing old aint for sissys

Growing old aint for sissys.

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The death of a son.

How does a mother overcome the pain, of losing a son, even if he was an adult? He didn’t die in an accident.  I think that would have been easier.  My husband got-up, on a Sunday morning and found him lying on the floor. My husband came in to wake me up, and said “I think Wayne is dead”. That was a statement I couldn’t get my head around.  I had talked to him, just the night before.  He was only 43.  He was too young to just up and DIE.  Your children wern’t suppose to die before you. They should bury you, not the other way around.

I threw my robe on and ran to the livingroom.  Wayne was laying on the floor as if, he had laid down to take a nap.  I bent down to touch him but he was cold.  You could see that the blood had pooled in the lower part of his body.  I called 911.  I felt very detached from the situation and felt very calm, this was not something happening to me.  The police and ambulance were there in minutes. After they checked and verified that Wayne was dead, one of the E.M.T.s came over to talk to me..  He looked very young.  He told me that there was nothing I could have done and I should not blame myself. Oh, but he was not a MOTHER.  How could he understand.  Mothers were supposed to kiss the bo-bos and make them better.

I did feel guilty!  Wayne was a big man, but had put on a lot of weight lately.  He had missed a lote of work days in the last few months and slept a lot.  I tried to get him to go to the doctors but he didn’t have insurance.  I threatened to skip work and take him to the clinic, but he always felt better and didn’t need to go.  He always had an excuse for why he didn’t feel good.  And, Me, I wanted to believe him.  I was in denial. I wouldn’t let myself believe there was something seriously wrong with him.  Not something fatal.  A mother should should have known better. I should have been able to do something.  I guess, one of the stages of greif, is anger and I was very angry, that he wouldn’t listen to me, his mother, and go to the doctors.  I tried to get rid of my guilt, by telling everyone how I tried to get him to the doctors.  I still felt guilty!  How do you make a 43 year old man go to the doctors when he didn’t want to.

All of wayne’s major arterys were at least, 90% blocked.  He died of a heart attack.  Wayne was not dumb.  He knew he had a problem, a serious one, but didn’t want to be a burden.  I guess he made his choice.  A few weeks after his death, I read in the Readers Digest, that serious tooth decay can lead to plaque buildup in the arterys.  Wayne had no teeth left.  Every one of his teeth had broken off at the gums.  He ate asprin for the pain.  When he had complained about a toothache, a couple of years befor, my husband took him to the dentest and paid to have it pulled.  He never complained again.  He used Ambesol for the pain.

It has been almost eight years since Wayne died.  I didn’t go hysterical and I didn’t build a shrine for him. (I guess that some people think I should Have). Wayne wouldn’t have wanted that.  His shrine is in my memorys of him.  He always tried to make us laugh and tried to see the best in other people. He never put people down and his love was unconditional.  He loved Ray Stevens songs and one of his favorites was “Everything is beautiful in its own way”  I think he looked at life that way.

This is the first time I have let myself think this deeply about that Sunday morning but I guess it has been good for me.  I have shead a few tears writting this but also learned a few things about myself.  I am no longer angry at Wayne or myself.  I just thank  GOD for giving me a son like Wayne.

P. S.     Now, whenever I run into some one who has a tooth ache, I warn them to take care of their theeth.  It could save their life!!!