Mary Elizabeth Light 1949-2019: Wife, Mother, Grandmother and Battler To The End!

Writing has always been a great healer for me, so today it is more important than ever, to put words on a page and express how I feel. At 12.20 this morning, my precious, precious Mother passed away peacefully at The Queen Alexandra Hospital in Portsmouth. With my Father and Brother, I spent a final forty five minutes talking to Mum, reassuring her and watching as her life slowly slipped away. The great battler in my life, the person who never flinched in pain, always thought of others and cared deeply about her family, was no more. As I sat there remembering my life with Mum, I was struck by the way she conducted herself, even in death. My Mother will forever sit at the end of my bed, wipe my tears away and make everything better. The memories I cherish will live on in the hearts of those who loved her and the dreams of a family who remained the linchpin of her life.

It was 10.45 in the evening when I received a call from Rebecca, a nurse in the Cardio unit of Queen Alexandra Hospital. She had been trying to get hold of family without success, Mum was about to take her final journey. To be honest I had been expecting this for a long time and remained calm and collected as I phoned my Father, telling him of the grave situation Mum was in. My Aunt then phoned my Brother and I was on my way to the hospital in a taxi.

I had no idea what to expect; the last time I saw Mother she was in excruciating pain, crying out for help, distressing for all of us there at the time. Mum's high pain threshold had deserted her, despite everything she had suffered, she was in more pain now than ever and deep down I knew the end was in sight. When I arrived in ward C7, Mum was laying up in bed, breathing very slowly unable to see me. She was unaware I was there holding her hand, but as the nurse said to me, able to hear my every word. I spoke softly to her, gently asking her to close her eyes and fall asleep, one last time. Kissing her on the brow, I stroked her hair, wiping a tear from her eye. My Mum was dying and I wanted to be with her til the end.

A Doctor knocked on the door and asked if I would accompany him to a private room, where he explained the gravity of the situation. Mum's organs had failed and she wouldn't last the night. We discussed whether or not she should be resuscitated and just what the hospital was doing, to make her as comfortable as they could before she slipped away. I said there should be no attempt to bring her back, but let her die with dignity, quietly surrounded by loved ones. My Father would have the final say on this matter of course, but I was sure he would agree.

Shortly afterwards my Father and finally my Brother arrived and we spent the next half an hour talking and expressing our love for Mum. This was an emotionally charged scene and a deeply private time for us, so don't want to go into too much detail. I was reluctant to see Mum in this state, but recalling it now, I wouldn't change me being there for anything. As Mum breathed her last, she looked as beautiful then as she always did.

Gently I removed Mum's glasses from her face and closed her eyes, handing the spectacles to Dad. My Brother was emotional and upset and we both did our best to comfort one another. Neither him or I were used to this kind of situation, so while my Bother and Father, sat with Mum, I went to reception and did the necessary paperwork, phoned members of our family and of course my husband Darrell, who overcome with emotion, cried down the phone. In Darrell's words: 'Lost a Mum today, a beautiful fighter. She took me in  when I was far from my Mum, kind and accepting. Sleep under the Milky Way with us my dear!'

Leaving Mum behind was difficult, but after a 60 years of suffering, she had gone to a much better place and is no longer in pain. Mum was always very stoical in many respects but illness and advancing age is a terrible thing. Mum had type 1 diabetes and had learnt to live with it for over half a century. The complications she had sustained were many and great - from three amputations, sepsis and failing organs, but she always managed to bounce back and live another day. This time however, even a hardened battler like Mum couldn't win through!

My Mother wasn't just a battler, but she was also a hard worker, holding down two jobs when my Brother and I were small and also managing to provide a cooked meal everyday. She was always at home when we got home from school and didn't have a bad bone in her body! Mum was a housewife first and foremost, a grafter in every sense and a lady through and through. I have many fond childhood memories and despite not always showing it, I loved her greatly. This was a woman I respected, never swore at or in front of and always thought of, no matter where I was living in the World.

When a parent dies, there are no written rules about how to deal with it. How should I feel? How should I act? How do I cope?... and most importantly... How do I deal with what comes next? As I sit here writing today, I have so many questions; I keeping thinking, could the hospital have done more? and just how can I help without treading on anyone's toes and upsetting my Brother or Father. My theory is to keep a low profile, do what I can from here and let others take charge, that way nobody will get hurt, after all this is about Mum and Dad, not me or anyone else.

Today I have been thinking about Mum, quietly at home, with no one about, just me and my memories. I have cried and laughed, planned for the future and conversed with numerous family members who want to be there. The death of a loved one can cause rifts in families where there were none and I am aware of my place within this process now. I need to spend however long it takes, reflecting on the passing of a beautiful lady, who I was proud to call Mum, she was a massive part of my life and will continue to be. As my focus changes to saying goodbye, I look forward once again to retreating to the fringes of family life, which tends to suit me best. Being there for Dad now and in the future, quietly in the background when I am needed is my choice and as Dad recovers from the trauma of loss, all of us can learn the lessons of life, and live it to the full!

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