I understand you and everyone who commented.

My mother died last April from vascular dementia. I buried her only last Friday because of the pandemic.

It hurts more now than it did in April.

When my mother was diagnosed two years ago and change, the medical literature said she had six to nine more years of a life expectancy. I knew that her prognosis was unidirectional. But I expected four to seven more years.

Last November, my mother had a fall while "getting ready to go to work." (She had not worked outside the house in decades.) I called 911, got her to the ER, who sent her to orthopedics (she had steel prostheses inside her left arm from the accident that killed her better son.) The orthopedists said the prostheses had moved, but they were unwilling to operate. They sent her back to the ER. ER doctor asked me if I was comfortable with discharge home. I said I was not, not after my mother had injured herself "while getting ready to go to work."

My mother spent her last months in a hospital, then in a care home. Her physical and mental condition worsened. She stopped eating anything but Ensure. She often repeated the same thing for hours on end to no one in particular. She was still in the hospital on Christmas. She refused to eat the chocolate and cheese I brought, and instead, just shook the guardrail of her bed and repeated the same thing over and over.

When my mother died in April, it was a nurse from the care home who called me. The nurse was kind, but she told me that, because of the pandemic, they could not keep my mother's remains longer than the following day. I knew there was a funeral home near by. I looked up their number and got back to the nurse. Then, I called my mother's family.

I was shocked, but functional until a month after my mother died. By then, her remains had been cremated (funeral home was taking no chances because of the pandemic) and I was waiting for funerals and burials to be permitted once more. A nurse from the care home called me to tell me that I could pick up my mother's belongings. Then, that poor nurse broke down. I tried to be as professional as I could, telling the nurse that it was better for her to cry than to go through vicarious/secondary traumatisation, a major risk for health care workers.

I had, by that time, long felt that I was the reason my mother died, that if I had detected that there was something wrong with her sooner, there could have been a medical intervention that would have helped her. I also have education (and failures) in a couple of health care fields. This means, that, when my mother was diagnosed, I acted out of my professional prejudices and biases, which means preserve life above all else. Because of these professional prejudices and biases, my mother's last two years were devoid of quality of life, because I had little to no people skills.

People from my family tell me that they were happy I was there for my mother that my mother was "lucky" to have me. They say this because they want to be kind. But what they say is untrue. I failed my mother. If what they said was true, my mother would still be alive.

For years, every time I was in between deep sleep and waking up, I saw my brother's face. Now, when I am between deep sleep and waking up, I see the horror in my mother's eyes during the last two years and change, the horror of knowing something was wrong but not being able to speak it. It is like a kick to the stomach.

It is like a kick to the stomach. It is also karma and justice. It is the price I have to pay for failing my mother and my brother.

I keep saying, over and over again, "I love you Mom. I will always love you. As long as my memory is intact, I will always love you. I am so sorry that I failed you."

i lost my mom/best friend /world this past march2020. im feeling that shes on vacation and she'll be back having a hard time getting the reality part of it my heart and mind wants her back but the reality part is that i know she's not coming back. having a hard time accepting it. also having hard time adapting to everyday life. feels like my world stopped.

Even though you wrote this over 2 years ago I hope you’ll understand why I’m responding to your post. I lost my beautiful mother 2 years ago. She was my best friend, confidant and mentor. Her passing was tragically unexpected. I miss her every single day. I cry most days at some point. My kids tell me I should seek out counseling or support groups (so here I am!) because my grief is so powerful. I hope you’re better DeeDee. I’ve accepted that forever is how long I’m gonna miss my beautiful mom.