Good Grief: “You will never know what you are saying goodbye to when you say goodbye.”

Courtesy of The American British Cowdray Medical Center, I.A.P. Mexico City

“You will never know what you are saying goodbye to when you say goodbye” Nirvana

My mother died at 95 in the ABC Medical Center, Mexico City, assisted by palliative care, we all knew where we were on the road, we were calm, my mother had no pain and was not afraid, her detachment from embodied life was in peace in conscience and with us there with her.
Palliative Care was the best help in the time of “letting go” with love and acceptance.

Many years before, mom asked me to take her to the notary to sign her advance will. She had the memory of an uncle dying after months of torture in hospitals and she didn’t want that for herself, we signed the paper. Many years later, a stroke swept away a third of her brain, she was alive and not anymore. 2 months before, in her last birthday, we celebrated at my house with chocolate cake, “las mañanitas”
and she blew her last Birthday candle.

Memories are built by one in life and then they become treasures. Helping mom to die peacefully is one of my great treasures .
The 12 days that we were in the hospital, sons and daughters, went through very painful days, the medical team that received her suggest on procedures to sustain her life, I was totally lost in my emotions, I talked with my sister-in-law who is a doctor and he told me… it’s time to move on to “palliative care”.… What is that? I asked.

It’s where they’re going to help her die well. I didn’t know that existed, when I told my brothers and sisters, they saw me as if I were the
plague itself, but I was clear about it, mom doesn’t want to prolong useless suffering, and with all my love, I took care that her wishes were fulfilled, palliatives helped us and continues to help me, palliatives gave me a weekly session with an expert thanatologist, so I have been able to process this change of life, of her and of me.

I died a little when mom died, I stopped being many things when she left, her body my first home, her heart my first drum and today, the anniversary of her one-year death, I cry with great happiness.