My mother just passed away on Dec. 31st. She was 52. She really wasn't a mother to me, my grandmother (her mother) raised me since I was 3 years old. My mother ruined her life with drugs and alcohol from an early age.
Growing up I would be able to visit her on the week ends. She was married and very functional in the 80's. I bonded with her very well. Then in 1990 she messed up with drugs again and she had to be institutionalized. I was 13 at the time and it really hurt me.
She was released and rebounded till about 95 and the cycle started over again. Then she came out again and became addicted to pain medications, due to her back. She was the type of person who would drive you crazy, mumbling and at times just acted really weird.
She loved my children, wife, and me. I hadn't heard from her in about a month, she live about 50 miles away. But she called Christmas Day and was going to come over, but she called later and changed her mind.
On Saturday I thought that I should call her to have her come over the next Saturday, Jan. 5th. Well I brushed that off. Then on New Years Eve. night I received a call from the sheriff's dept. where she lived... she had past away of natural causes. I drove to her home, that I had not been to in 4 years. When she visited she always came to my home. her house was in terrible shape.... she had become a hoarder. dogs... birds... turtles... mice.. on and on.. You can't walk through the home without a mask, in some rooms stuff packed to the ceiling.
The three things that hurt me the most... seeing the mess and believing that if I had known I could have tried to remove her from it. Seeing the only pictures on the walls were of my 3 children, she loved them and then finding the Christmas cards that were meant for them.