Last night I laid in bed, and replayed the day over and over and over again, and felt that feeling again. Heart break.

It stared just like any other day. I got Raylee out of bed around 7:30 AM. We played and watched some cartoons for a couple hours. I worked on my computer for a little bit until my tailbone started to hurt from sitting. I realized it wasn’t windy anymore so I went and burned the giant stack of cardboard boxes that we had just lingering in the back of our house.

It had been pretty wet and dewy for a past few weeks so the cardboard wouldn’t start very easily. I had a few boxes that i’d kept inside and I was able to get the dang thing started with help of them. I yelled at Raylee for taking her boots off and playing in the silt/sand. She got a goat head in her foot after I told her she would when she took her boots off. The boxes burned, I stunk, and Raylee cried when we went inside.

Going in the house, I slammed my middle finger in the door, and that should have been a good indication how the day would turn out. We got through the morning, but not without me getting so irritated by all the clothes on my bedroom floor. It was about 4 PM and Justin came home to say hi. I was sitting on the bedroom floor trying to organize the said clothes, and Raylee was “helping.” Raylee ran and gave Justin the biggest hug, and told him that she missed him, just like always. Then he came in the room, with tear filled eyes and all he could say was “Well….”

He didn’t have to say the rest. I knew what happened. And just like that, my mother in law was gone.

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Since last December we knew the day would come. She went in for surgery to remove the brain tumor they had found that had started to grow back-a glioblastoma. Survival rates for that specific tumor aren’t great. We knew it would be her demise, we just didn’t know when. Within the last year, she’s been through more radiation, more chemo, and even a device (Optune) that sent electical impulses into her brain to try and kill the cancer cells. Things were going alright for a few months. She was able to start walking around with the help of a walker. She was talking again. There was one day I had to go help with her this spring while my father in law needed to run to the office, and she made me laugh. She wanted food so I offered to get her some and she told me “I can do a lot more things than Neil let’s me do. I’ll do it.” And so she did. Even if that involved dropping a fork and making a sketchy reach for it afterwards. She just kind of held at that point for a while, but there was about a three day stent that her health decreased pretty rapidly. She was no longer able to walk on her own. She wasn’t talking much, but she was still eating. My father-in-law turned into her primary health giver (though he’s been doing that for years now) and it was really a full time job, and then some. She couldn’t get out of bed on her own, struggled with eating, but had to continue taking her medication throughout all of that, and he was there to help through it all.

It really wasn’t until the last month of so that things started to get to a point that we realized the time was coming soon. She was at a point that she wasn’t able to hold up any weight of her own. She started wanting to eat less and less, and then to the point that all she wanted was chocolate milk. She was sleeping most of the day and when she was awake, she didn’t really interact with anyone. Just sat there. She would talk every once in while, but not really TO anyone. Things that she said didn’t make a lot of sense. It was sad. So so sad. They stopped all treatments and end-of-life hospice care started coming almost every day of the week.

About a week ago, she stopped eating. The hospice nurse let my father-in-law know that if she didn’t eat, she may die in 3 days. The next day she ate some lunch. She started sleeping more and more, wasn’t waking up to take any of her medications, and I knew that it was coming soon.

My father-in-law had to run some errands yesterday, and as soon as Justin told me he was leaving for a few hours, the first things that popped into my head was that it could very well happen then. For some reason, I feel like people feel at ease once their loved ones leave. Like “ok, I can go now.” He ran his errands in town, but kept feeling like he needed to get back home, so he did. He got home, said hi to my mother-in-law, and then talked a bit with the friend that had stayed at the house.

They noticed her breathing getting shallower, with about 45 seconds in between. She took her last breath, and then she was gone.

Her 13 year fight with cancer was over.

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I think about how blessed we are a lot of the time. We were blessed with another 13 years of this sweet lady. Justin was a senior in high school the first time around, and I can’t even imagine what it would have done to him if this would have happened then. I think about all the amazing times we had with her. I think about how many grand babies she got to hold, and love, and spoil. She was SO good at that. I think about all the time and effort she put into having us all over for dinners as a family, and holidays, and just everything. She was one amazing lady.

It will be sad to not have her humor, and stubbornness around to keep all these boys in line. She raised some good ones.

I don’t talk a lot about my religion on my blog, or heck, anywhere on social media because I know it can put some people off, but I’m grateful for my church and the knowledge that I have of eternal families. I know that we’ll get to see her again. I found a talk from one of the members of the leaders in our church that really resonated with me last night:

“Even in our moments of deepest grief, in the moments when time stands still and life seems so unfair, we can find comfort in our Savior because He suffered as well.” -Elder Weatherford T. Clayton

I know it’s going to be tough. I’ve had a hard time not crying as the day rolls along, and I think about the good times, the bad times, and those she left behind. But at the same time, I’m comforted to know that we WILL see her again, and that we’re all in this together. Ed Sheeran’s song “Supermarket Flowers” had never felt so real.

I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill
I threw the day-old tea from the cup
Packed up the photo album Matthew had made
Memories of a life that’s been loved

Took the “Get Well Soon” cards and stuffed animals
Poured the old ginger beer down the sink
Dad always told me, “Don’t you cry when you’re down.”
But, mum, there’s a tear every time that I blink

Oh, I’m in pieces. It’s tearing me up but I know
A heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved

So, I’ll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you’d be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back
He’ll say, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

I fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up
Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case
John said he’d drive, then put his hand on my cheek
And wiped a tear from the side of my face

And I hope that I see the world as you did ’cause I know
A life with love is a life that’s been lived

So, I’ll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you’d be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go, when God takes you back
He’ll say, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
You got to see the person I have become
Spread your wings and I know
That when God took you back, he said, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”