My mother died last week. That is maybe craziest sentence I've ever had to write, and I am still in that numb, weird part of grief. It's extra weird because the initial gut punch came with her diagnosis in November 2016. We knew it was a terminal sentence from day one, so I went through all the phases many times over. Now, along with the obvious relief that I have learned is common with these long, painful, drawn-out deaths, I am also wondering when I will re-live the grief. It comes in waves of sadness, but I'm also purposefully postponing the weeping when I can because there is so much else going on.
I'm writing this from University Hospital, where my dad is having surgery to remove his own cancer. He's been back about an hour, and I'm using this time to reflect and also catch up on business (hello, blog, how have you been?!).
To catch you all up on the beauty that was my mom's memorial celebration, have a look at these glorious photos. We had a block party, a stage, wonderful musician friends, and great food. It was so much fun that we're going to just have to make PatsyFest an annual event.
My mother's obituary is here: https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/louisville/obituary.aspx?pid=190191762
Now to throw myself into my career and my music and my writing and my touring and my music and everything my mother wanted me to be.
Big love to all who've taken care of us along this icky road of pancreatic cancer.
The photo above is of my parents' dining room, and it encompasses everything I adore about my mother. This was my normal. I never hear...
I went back to yoga this morning. I'm trying to hang on to self-care because people keep telling me it's important -- the...
My mother died last week. That is maybe craziest sentence I've ever had to write, and I am still in that numb, weird part of grief. It...