First off, AO; I apologize for the last post. The main point that I wanted to get across is that grieving in any manner that you saw fit and getting through life the best you can is perfect. She was your mother, it was your love and whatever decisions you made through the days and weeks following your loss are not for others to judge. I feel that I came across really poorly but find myself unable to alter or delete it.
I suppose I expected most readers to read my mind, or fill in the blanks - which I should not have.
As many here might know, earlier this year, my mother died in my arms, literally. We all knew the time would come, but never expected it to be only a few days after we received the news of her condition. Seeing the life leave my mom's body haunts me to this day - and even though I deal with life and death of babies every day, it is much different so close to home.
Here is where I draw the line: I suspect that your and many other folks' conditions may be such that not much choice may be at hand when dealing with life/death events; one must therefore be pragmatist. But when one is rich, and has choices - choices as to money, time, place, etc., and one THEN still elects to continue their job, WHEN NOTHING ELSE IS PRESSING, yes, I'd consider that person to be numbnuts.
Now, if that's their way of "coping," then I say, OK, that's their method of coping, but it sure smells like bullshit to me.
Just for fun I am going to argue. Please don't worry about offending me (between Aspergers and ADD I promise you that I am not easily offended and really do prefer somebody telling me the truth rather than trying to spare feelings.)
My father was in a major accident. He lingered in a coma for two months with no hope. Regrettably, he was only on full life support for the first couple of weeks and did stabilize after that (it would have been easier to pull the plug than pull the feeding tube.) I did have to take a few hours off work at various times to prearrange some things being as I pretty much knew to the exact day when he would die. I planned the funeral, did the "handouts", booked a minister, booked the venue and the caterer. I did things in (what I later learned) was a very nontraditional manner. This made it so that I had to contact the coroner , two funeral homes and the registarer of death at a hospital as well.
Through all of that I kept working. It was not that I had to (I could afford to take the time off, but chose not to.) I spent enough time trapped in my mind at night that I did not want more time in the day. I saw the family at points but I am not somebody able to offer comfort. There were enough family members who were able to that having the guy looking at things logically was not a necessary addition to have there full time.
I was the one who had to explain to my grandparents that although dad was in a coma when he was 17 and woke up that it would not be the case this time. I had to interpret the doctors words and break their hope. I spent the nights at the hospital and later the hospice (amazing how visiting hours don't apply to somebody who is completely unresponsive.) I showed up after a nap each night, pulled his eye open and waved hello to a completely blank stare. I would spend quite a few hours there, kiss him goodnight and go to my job. The last night, I looked into the blank stare, waved hello and did not kiss him goodnight until he took his last breath later during the visit.
I was somebody who had always said that I could not understand how Terri Schiavo's family could have done what they did. I would never have protested and added to their pain, but I always said that I could not kill a loved one as they had. When I did exactly that it took a toll. I kept working and would go home to an empty house to play an excellent game of self hatred and loathing. I really did not need the time off work to be alone with my thoughts. Insomnia provided me all the time that I needed to be awake and despising myself while the world slept and was absent.
Through it all I did more than my "duty". I suppose that I failed in being with the family all day every day. I took care of all the details and the logistics and provided the "rock" who was capable of thought from the first hour and could complete what needed to be done while others were busy crying to each other. I did "fall apart" a few times at home, in private. In public, I was the one who could take charge of the situation.
For me it is more difficult and draining to be around people (especially emotions) and trying to figure them out. I did the best that I could and did continue working to provide myself some downtime away from the situation.
My job was my savior at that point. Perhaps you still believe that I should have spent more time with the family fulfilling some imaginary "duty", but every family member has different roles. Mine is not to comfort and console; something that I am completely incapable of. I may be considered for asshat of the year award for continuing to work when it was not necessary. However, I feel that I would have hit a more severe depression that I would not have pulled myself out of had I not continued with the parts of my life (including my job) that I did.The fact of the matter is that it may smell like bullshit to you... I can only tell you that I did the best that I could. There is nothing that I would change even if I could return to that time in my life.
