My mother died last week, she had barely turned 50.
My boyfriend and I were visiting Norfolk where my parents live when my father took us straight to the hospital. We didn’t know she was ill, turned out she didn’t either.
After that visit she lasted about 6days.
Tobias was away for most of them recording a band and I slept every night with my door open and the lights on, in her dressing gown. Hoping for comfort.
The day he returned my mother died, he missed the 12 hour days of watching her go slowly mad and die.
The 5 of us, my family, held each other and mum’s hand and would not leave her side.
During this time she wrote us all a letter.
We managed to convince the nurses to let us have her at home for a few days, they gave birth to both beauty and terror. We watched our coherent wonderful loved one turn into a husk, someone we no longer knew or understood.
She went back to the hospital and we were given our own room.
It was hell, I think, possibly. It is hell, replaying it over and over is hell.
During her stay at home, I showed her my recent photo shoots I had been working on in London the weeks before. There were three, two in places of rest and one in a forest.
The forest shoot was for Vice magazine, she didn’t think much of those, but she liked the other two, that was until she could see faces in them, clear as day, she would tell me where the head was tilted and what way he or she was looking. It terrified my cousin but fascinated me, I kept asking questions about them, who they might be? Are they dead? After all they were in grave yards.
Later in the hospital she began screaming that there was a man with long gloves near us, trying to get to her, we couldn’t see anyone but shortly after telling us that she took her last gasps and died.
I miss her every second she was my best friend and my father has lost the love of his life he is in pieces.
If you have ever been though something like this you will know exactly how I feel and my heart is with you ( please let me know because I would like very much to talk to you) , if you have not you may not understand what staring death in the face looks like, feels like, but you will, we all will.
Rest in peace mum.
Posts
oh,ellen,i'm so sorry for your loss,i know there's no words in this world that could describe how you must feel now or give you any comfort,but in my thoughts i'm with you,and i wish i could just hug you now....
ReplyDeletemy dear grandma died last fall,she was old and sick before,but it was awful to see her loosing it last few weeks,not recognising any of us who were there by her side,calling for her dead sisters and just fading away....i dedicated one Pessoa song to her,here it is...
At the end of everything,just fall asleep
At the end of what?
At the end of everything that seems to exist….
That little provincial universe amongst stars,
that little village of space,
not only of the visible,but of the omnipotent space.
much love&hugs
stay strong sister
b.
dear Ellen, please accept my condolences.
ReplyDeletei`m really very sorry for your loss.it broke my heart to read this.
i know how you feel, i hve lost my father 3.5 years ago in a very short time , when he was totally healthy , because of leukemia and i know that this makes it even harder to believe that can really happen.
i still don`t believe in it 100%.
the best i can say you now is , just try to remind all the good moments you had with her and nothing else and you`ll see that you`ll feel more relieved and happy.
hugs.
Hi Ellen, I just started reading your blog after stumbling onto your photography.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to hear about your loss. I lost my father 5 years ago and he was only 49. He was ill for a while longer, but I think when someone dies it always seems sudden.
At the end he hallucinated, I think it was the medication.
love you!
ReplyDeleteE- I'm so very sorry. When I heard the news, I thought of the last gifts I sent "God, how trite," but perhaps it is even moreso to assume that objects could soothe such deep pain! I wish for you and your family peace, consolation.
ReplyDeleteIf you don't mind my asking, what was her illness? I can't imagine what you are going through, but know that I would be devastated to lose my mother. You seem like you are a lot stronger than I am though. I hope things get easier. You are clearly a very talented and meaningful person, so only great things should come to you.
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much for your words, Billy and Kris you are such lovely people and I am so grateful for your support and thank you so much for sharing your words Billy they are beautiful.
ReplyDeleteEni and Laura, you and I must be feeling the same things, it is a comfort to know you have contacted and others understand too.
Alice I love you also but you know this!
Tiffany Diane thank you for your words of support also, My mother died of secondary pancreatic Cancer that spread to the liver, she didn’t know she had it, she literally had a stomach ache that became very painful one night, she went to A&E and then it was a matter of days. Doctors in the NHS had ignored any complaints for months explaining it was her age and that she was fine. I have come to realise that scans and full body tests cost money from the (NHS) doctors budgets and of course they would prefer to maintain their track record than actually help people. I strongly feel that if other countries can avoid entering into an NHS type system they should, people will continue to die from sheer negligence if not.
I think the hardest things to deal with , when it comes to the loss of a loved one are small things, like for me realising that she will never meet my children or see me marry. Or the decisions of what to do with her clothes or whether or not I should keep her phone number. I choose clothes for her to be cremated in the other day, I picked one of her long skirts, Victorian style shoes she always wore and a ruffled shirt. It’s strange to think that they will be part of her ashes. My dad has decided to keep her in the living room, on the mantle.
She told me that she would speak to me while I was asleep in my dreams.
there aren't really any words adequate enough at a time like this. i lost my own mother five years ago this august to cancer. it was exactly four months between the date she was diagnosed to the date of her funeral (the 18th of may, to the 18th of august); all five of her daughters were in the hospital room with her when she passed away. by the end, what i recognized of my mother had almost completely withered away, and it haunts me still. i remember feeling so angry because i wished it had been more peaceful for her, i wished we'd had more time. again, the medical professionals were slow to react, and when we did finally have some answers, they seemed even more useless and insensitive, one doctor advising her at one point to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate) order because she was no longer priority in her condition. two weeks after her death she would have been only 51.
ReplyDeleteall i can say is, keep all senses open. she will send you small signs; in dreams and elsewhere. remain the incredible thinker, and the beautiful and talented artist that you are, and she will always be close somehow.
i know that we are strangers, with only this common thread of grief to connect us, but if one day you should ever need to pass messages back and forth with someone who knows some of this experience, my email is wrongcity@gmail.com.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteI know how you feel (losing a loved one) though my experience is not exactly the same.
My grandmother passed away just a week ago, and it's been so hard, grieving. it's been hard on my whole family. the day I found out, I was so shocked and couldn't believe that it was true. my grandmother however had been sick with cancer for years, so I knew of her fragility (I just kept telling myself she'd be okay). and she lived all the way across the world, in australia so it hurt not being able to see her often or see her in her last moments (the costs, the time, it just wasn't possible)
I know how it feels. I wish you the best with everything. keep your chin up, however hard it may be. for she would have wanted you to be happy. to remember the goodness of her being but to also enjoy your life even with her loss
Hi Tara, Thank you for sharing this story, my heart goes out to you too, I remember losing both my grandfathers, it is never easy.
ReplyDeleteOh Ellen, My heart goes out to you and your father. I wish you strength in dealing with this awful pain. Yes I know how you feel. We are all grateful to your wonderful mother for having you! You are an inspiration.
ReplyDeleteIts my belief that she is not alone, and I don't think death is the end. You will be reunited..
sending my love, even though I don't know you, I feel for you.
Try to be strong and remember the good times in spite of your sadness...
The Thing Is | Ellen Bass
ReplyDeleteTo love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weighs you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, hope you and your family are going to be OK. I'm sorry I've been rubbish at keeping in touch, if there's anything I can do, let me know. Dan H.
ReplyDeleteHi Dan,
ReplyDeleteThank you. I haven't spoken to you in so long, it feels like an absolute age, I hope you are well and that life is treating you as it should, you know my email should you ever want to talk. I miss Comics and I miss you guys so much.
very sad news ellen, not much i can say because i have yet to lose someone that close to me. but i have had loss in other ways, and it's always unbearable, but you seem very strong and you seem to have lots of love around you, and with time it will get better.
ReplyDeletewill be sending magick your way...
keep up the beautiful photographs!
I just read this now, Ellen I'm so sorry for your loss! I didn't realize your most recent photos were in memorial - such a gorgeous tribute. I recently experienced the loss of a most beloved person and it makes my heart ache for you thinking now of yours. I hope strength and peace be with you now as you and your loved ones embark on a new journey together. You are a wonderful being, miss Ellen.
ReplyDeletexox
Hannah! My dear, I hope you are well, I feel for your pain also, thank you for blessing our journey...
ReplyDeleteand love to you too mon Soeur.
Dear Ellen Jane
ReplyDeleteYou have lost your mum, but not the love she gave you; when everything else has gone, the love remains. Love doesn't die with the person, it lives on, like her dressing gown round your shoulders, what your mum gave you from the moment she first held you is a gift that transcends death.
Take heart, little one. This horrible hurt will not last forever.
x
Hello Debi,
ReplyDeleteMy mothers name was Deborah, Is that your name too?
Thank you so much for your support. I am currently living in her home,
I feel surrounded by her, I dream of her, I wake crying at times, but I am coping with art. I understand fully what you say, love does seem to permeate deeper than existence.
I have a very dear friend also who has been though something similar and she helps so much, if it were not for the support I have been given from friends I would be in a different place right now.
Thank you.
Hi Ellen,
ReplyDeleteI discovered your art and blog randomly while I was looking at Neil Krug's links. What is more important is that you came through this painful situation. It's difficult to find a way to talk about this, words extinct. I'm experiencing a similar thing last two or three weeks now, my father after a 2 year fight with such a disease is at the brink of his fade. Vanity. A great Man in my eyes, my hero, my heritage, my blood, he who glorified myself, and now a tortured soul and body. And despite his martyrdom, still watching and waiting with pride and dignity. That is my man, my father. I have tasted the pain of departure and death in my past when I lost my grandma and grandfather, but this one is difficult to describe. I knew from the very first time of his illness how difficult it would be, but it hurts and shatters and tears my soul. Spending hours by his side, listen to his breath and leaving my lungs to suck useless air... Feckless to help. Death. A reminder that we have to carry on. Make someone happy, convict him that you'll carry on. Cherish what is Home for them. Feel sorry and grateful. We don't know each other, but what a strong and adorable lady you are! It was an accident to find your words, but I find a purpose and meaning on this accident, don't like to call it omen, don't want to bring it into boundaries, but I feel connected. Take care.
Hello there,
ReplyDeleteI must say firstly I am so so sorry for your loss, No words will comfort you, but you seem strong. Your father sounded like an inspirational character, I am sure he will continue to be this monumental figure in your life. I hope you will forget the fade and remember something more. I know the final weeks of my mother’s life have almost disappeared from my head. Psychology or emotion removed them. I remember when I try hard or when I dream in nebulous like versions of it. I hope this fade becomes easier for you too and you forget the demise. The anger for the helplessness will never leave me too, I wanted to fight it for her. I spent hours and hours meditating on the idea of transferring it. On to people I hated, as thought it might melt and infect a new host. It sounds so terrible of me to do so but love and loss brings desperation, it did for me anyway.
And thank you so much for contacting me.
Neil is a in a sense always there for me even though we have never meet, he has shown me a lot of support, so it seems to make sense that our paths have crossed like his.
Thank you for sharing you story, recently I have come to realise that my mother was always in my thoughts, even when she was alive, and since then nothing has changed, she is as I said to my dear friend Annie above, my new foundation. The new platform that gives meaning to my very drive. I hope he inspires you every day.
Please do not hesitate to contact me whenever you want to speak about this with anyone.
me@ellenrogers.co.uk
Love to you, nameless friend.
hello!
ReplyDeletei lost my dad when I am 11 years old,and i lost a part of my body and my soul.i did not know the meaning of death and I think that he can come a day.but NO.
after years I learned that LİFE is this.
ece-Türkiye
I am very sorry you went through this.
ReplyDeleteSo sad about your loss.
ReplyDeleteI've been through a very similar situation a few years ago and I can understand what you are going through dear...be strong, I'm sure our mother is with you!
Ellen, let me begin by saying how very sorry I am that this happened. I only learned of this just now; after noticing today that you'd added my blog I clicked on this post by chance (if you can call it that). In light of discovering this I now feel foolish for talking with you about something as trifle as a print. I don't really know you, but I send you my support. I too experienced something similar a year ago. My father was temporarily insane for months, kissed death, but in the end pulled through. However, the infection that nearly took him will lie dormant in his body for the remainder of his life, possibly deciding to one day reawaken and test him again. I wish you well and send you my condolences.
ReplyDeleteHi Rob,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing your story, I hope your father is well today and for every day. I do not for one minute think your wonderful messages are trivial or trite at all. You have been someone very kind and made me smile this week, I am very grateful for this.
X
My dearest Ellen,
ReplyDeleteI tried to visit you blog today and it was down, I needed to see your images, sometimes I just need to stare at it, such dark and comforting beauty. And then I read your words and realized what I have missed! I am so sorry to discover so late how it happened and I can’t help but think at my own experience and how I was angry at the doctors and the health system too.
I lost, as you know, my father, same year you lost your mother, in November 2010… He was ill from an awful and rare disease (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis). We are sure now he was ill for a long time, but the doctors didn’t saw it (although it is said that it is really easy to detect), they said he had a back problem so they decided to operate him, but after that it was worse, he couldn’t recover (of course the slow degeneration of his neurons had continued to make they work…). So he went to another doctor and another, one year we waited to finally learn the actual diagnosis… In one year his body slowly paralyzed… We felt so useless, I finally managed to have an appointment with a great professor, but of course I had to pay for a private consultation (if not we couldn’t hope to have a place in short time)… but he died only one week before the professor’s appointment… He was in his hospital room when he suddenly had a sort of suffocation, they gave him morphine so he doesn’t suffer too much, and that put him into a coma. I was away when it arrived, so I jumped in the last train to be at his bed, we watch over him through the night, until his last breath. The most heartbreaking was that he couldn’t speak. At the last moment he shed only one tear… That was the last way his body could communicate with us… so many mistakes were made, so many negligence… It was only one year since I last talked to him… It seems that sadness can’t go away…
And I see how staring death in the face can change you, the way you see the world, I know now…
I hope I didn’t embarrass you with my story, I’m sorry if I opened up again this wound, I thought you would know that you are not alone, I know that grieving is really hard and that even one year later it still hurt in a way we can’t imagine… But I know we can find beauty in this to survive…
You are so generous to have shared your experience, it helps me so much! Thank you for your words and your Art!
All my thoughts goes to you my dearest Ellen.
Xxx