So, my Mom died yesterday at around noon. She had been a heavy smoker most of her life, and had battled horrific emphysema for many years.
(Hey kids - Stop smoking - Yes, it will KILL you. Chew some fucking gum.)
The real tragedy of this was the life she led. I'm won't get into specifics too much (this is a LONG story), but I'll say it involved her deteriorating health (mentally & physically), which began when I was young, at a time when people who suffered from mental health problems were labeled as simply "nuts."
The main thing she suffered from was depression, which I think began as a form of post-partum depression that went un-noticed, then spread into other things as a lack of understanding & frustration from her family basically made her an outcast. Her disintegrating marriage couldn't have helped, either. She had been diagnosed as bi-polar, with psychosis n.s., depression, and schizophrenia.
Yeah, that's a pretty bad hand to be dealt.
Note: When someone is suffering from depression, get them help (!).
I'm sure some relatives attempted to help at first, but it certainly wasn't enough, so it was left up to me. But by the time I got her the help she needed, it was too late really. Like I said, this is a long story, this only scratches the surface.
And even though 90% of childhood was a living hell, I knew that deep down she was still a good person and a loving mother, and I made my peace with her before she died. But seeing her get worse as the days passed was heart-wrenching, and although her passing has hit me like a ton of bricks, I am glad she is finally at peace. The last 30+ years of her life sucked.
She was 63.