My Mother Makes Me Proud
In the early hours of this morning a friend of my mum’s died after a short-lived battle with cancer. It was only two monts ago that he was diagnosed, collapsing at a friends home. He was riddled with it, lungs, brain, liver, ect. The doctors gave him a tentative year, maybe longer with chemo.
The friend that died was a rough man. He had lived alone most of his life. Working hard in the mining industry with his close mates and a lot of beer. My mother and him dated for a few years, about twenty years ago. He was the first father I remembered. Not meeting my biological dad til years later. All I remember was his overly-loud motor bike and eating snake for dinner once.
When mum heard the news of his diagnosis she went to see him. No small feat, as he lives in an isolated community. We had only seen him maybe five times in the past twenty years, but that is who my mum is. When she got there she realised no one was caring for him. His family were far away and already asking after the will. His mates did their best, but they were miners and construction workers. My mum had been an orderly for years and was a trained carer.
My mum cared for him throughout his first weeks in the city hospital while his various cancers were found. He wanted to go home and quietly die but his employer had already taken his supplied home. My mum had made the trip back to tidy up for no other reason than give hime a little pride (he had lived a very rough bachelor life for many years). They found the closest hospital to his hometown that would administer chemo and he was told he would be put in a care facility.
It would have been hell for him. My mother again put herself out there. She offered to move out there with him and care for him as he deteriated. In two weeks she was gone. I moved into her home and took over the lease so she would not lose the place. It was the least I could do.
For the past two month my mum has organised a home for them, been entertaining guests paying their final respects, organising lawyers, doctors, nurses and disability services. She has been sleeping on the floor in his room because it brought him comfort to know she was there (he has been able to speak the past few weeks). She has barely slept due to hin coughing all night and waking up frequently.
She has done this all off her own back with only her own government disability allowance (she has been very sick herself) as his superannuation still has not come through and he drank away any savings he had. It has been an enourmasly tough time with no sleep, busy days, emotional visits everyday and little money for food. She literally had his life put in her hands, the nurses telling her how much painkiller to administer to truly take away his constant pain.
At 2.45 this morning my mum’s friend died holding her hand. He was not quite 50. I am proud of you mum.
