I went for a drive on Friday. I’ve been in Idaho for two weeks and a day now to be with my mom and on Friday I just needed to get out of Dodge. Well, it’s not so much that I needed to get out of Dodge… I just needed to cover some ground, get into the mountains and away from the lights and sounds of suburbia and the city, so that I could feel a bit more comfortable and be in a space that would allow me to… think. Of course, I’m pretty sure it also started the process of me having a mid-life crisis… sorta. I just happen to need more money so that I can have a mid-life crisis in style. You know, like the ones you used to be able to have in the 80’s with sports cars and cocaine! (ummm… FYI… neither of which I’m actually interested in) I guess it’s not so much that I’m having a mid-life crisis… it’s more me trying to make sense of living a life without being able to give my mom a hug, being able to tell her about my day, being able to share my life with her, being able to lean on her for support and guidance, being able to tell her… I love her. After losing Kateri to Metastatic Malignant Melanoma… with mutations… my mom was there for me. She even made the trip to Kateri’s Kick-Ass Party… oxygen tank in tow, needed because of the cancer… saying she was gonna make it there one way or another and wouldn’t have missed it for anything. My mom is a strong woman. My mom is an independent woman. My mom is a caring and compassionate woman who loved me no matter what bad decisions I made throughout my life… while also celebrating the good ones. And my mom is currently in her bedroom, laying in a hospital bed resting as Joan Baez radio fills the air… dying from cancer. No, I guess it’s not so much that I’m having a mid-life crisis… I’m just really sad… I’m just feeling kinda lost… and being here watching my mom live with cancer for the last little bit of her life is just… hard.
When Kateri died, everything I thought I knew about who I was and what I wanted my life to look like simply vanished. It was cloaked with some sort of haze… a fog… this lack of direction in the world and my place in it. Being a widower… to put it bluntly… sucks balls. To be a widower in my mid-forties, to lose Kateri at a time when we were at the best spot in our lives and we were so excited about the future, our home, our history, and growing old together… honestly, threw me for a loop. But in the last almost four years, it also taught me that as long as I’m upright and on this side of the earth… I’ve gotta keep putting pants on and taking those steps to try and figure out how to keep living in a world without something that I thought I was gonna live with forever. It taught me that sometimes in life we have to adapt to scenarios that we never could’ve imagined… that never crossed our minds. It taught me that life could be hard… and living could be even harder.
Kateri’s death showed me that I could endure quite a bit while also clarifying… and simplifying… a couple of my priorities in life. My priority right now is to be with my mom because this is one of those things that’s only gonna happen once in my life. When I leave Idaho, my life and priorities will be different than when I arrived. I’ve accepted that and I know I will be ok… and I’ll continue to search for ways to make life better. Unfortunately, part of being here with my mom is seeing her frustration… seeing her discomfort… seeing her lose her mobility… her independence… seeing her in and out of lucidity… seeing her so… tired. Losing ones we love is hard, but sometimes I think seeing them having to endure the process as cancer attacks their bodies and we witness strength turn into frailty… well… sometimes I feel like that part of life is the hardest.
Thirty Days of Mo(u)rning 
16 thoughts on “Losing People You Love is Hard…”
Maggie
My heart breaks for both of you. I understand from experience what you are going through. I send you and your mom so much love. I know this is hard for both of you and your entire family. You are in my thoughts as you travel on this very difficult journey.
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Darren Lidstrom
Maggie, thank you for being there with me through this journey. For a couple of years now you have given me nothing but kind words and support… I am forever grateful for that.
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Maggie
I appreciate your truth and honesty so much, Darren. You have had a difficult journey and you inspire me with each blog you post. Your posts are always touching.
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Rhonda lee
You are strong. Admirable. Thanks for sharing. Being a widow in our 40s definitely sucked. You are in my thoughts.đź’ś
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Darren Lidstrom
Thank you Rhonda ❤️.
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Lauren
Darrin, it extremely difficult watching those we love deal with the end of their lives. I couldn’t agree more that cancer sucks. As I held my mom’s hand as she left this realm, I not only cried for losing her but also for relief that she was out of pain. Her suffering was ending. I spoke to her for days even when she was no longer coherent and morphined up to relieve some pain. The waves of grief still come, but as you said, as long as we are upright we need to move forward. Sending hugs and love of empathy.
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Darren Lidstrom
Ya… it’s hard, but I agree with the relief part. When Kateri died, my friend had to point out to me that all that worry I had for her kinda disappeared when she passed. It’s an odd thing to go through. Thanks for all your support.
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Sue Moran Gilmet
Darren, you continue to inspire me with your words and deep feelings. I am so sorry for the current part of your journey, it sucks. Sending love and hugs. ♥️
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Darren Lidstrom
Thanks Sue… and just wanna say it’s nice hearing from ya! I hope life is treating you well and that you are just as wonderful as when we met!… which I bet you are!
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jennasnanny04
Darrin, everyone here has said everything I would say. I went thru the same scenario with my Dad. So I KNOW. Sending love and strength and peace for you and your Mom. Sounds like you two have had a VERY special and beautiful bond. Hugs to you both.
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Darren Lidstrom
Doesn’t it just suck?! Thanks for sending some love and ya… I feel fortunate to have the relationship I do with my mom… it’s a wonderful type of love I will always have with me.
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Elizabeth
In the past your devotion as your mother leaves was understood to be sacrificial love. We don’t use that language much any more, but it speaks to the truth that you are giving up yourself to be there in the extremely hard times. You aren’t running. You aren’t sugar coating the reality. I send love, hugs and company across the continent from New England.
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Darren Lidstrom
I think I’ve learned that running away or trying to hide the reality of pain and circumstances doesn’t serve us or the people we are taking care of any good. Personally, it’s been an honor having the opportunity to be with the two people I hold closer than anything else on this earth… as they leave it. And man… I miss New England!
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Elizabeth
I just read about you getting yelled at by a yahoo. How ignorant. But then I have never had good thoughts about Idaho, even when I lived in Oregon.
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Darren Lidstrom
It’s a beautiful place!… it’s just (some of) the people that ruin it!
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Elizabeth
Good point.
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