It has been ages since I last wrote an entry. Since my last entry, I have had a book published, have had two art exhibits, and am working on my next book. My original motivation to write this blog was to tell some of the family stories after my sister, Melanie Welch, passed away from cancer on July 8, 2014. The blog will be continued as I find time. However, I received two wonderful written pieces from my niece, Sarah, about her mother, Melanie.
Sarah is the last child born to my siblings. She shall be graduating high school in June of 2016, and she is planning on trying to go to college in New Hampshire in the fall. The two pieces she wrote are worth sharing as part of our family history. Even just a few months before her mother, my sister Melanie, died, the two were still doing mother/daughter activities. Between hospital visits for my sister's declining health, Melanie was able to see Sarah go to her first prom at 16.
The difference in Sarah is amazing. She turned out to be a lovely girl, and her mother was so happy to be able to see Sarah dressed up like a princess going to a ball. Melanie had been released from the hospital about 4 days before this, and I think the next day she was back in the hospital. I think it may have been the last time she was able to leave the hospital. That was in May of 2014.
In her last year of high school, Sarah has been taking creative writing. I am sharing her poem and her essay, both about the last few days of her mother's life. I was given an inside view of how she felt through both pieces. The night before Melanie died, we were all in the room. Sarah and Marc stayed the night. I cannot explain the emotion I felt that night, but I did recall the last night of my mother's life, also a victim of cancer. We were all in the room that night, and Melanie stayed all night. Our mother passed away the next morning, Thanksgiving Day 1998. To read what Sarah wrote, I feel I may have gotten some insight into how Melanie felt when our mother died. I did not have the courage to stay with my mother when she died, or my sister. I am grateful to Sarah for this gift of writing she created regarding that last night.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Holding on to You
_________________________________________________________________________
Melanie saw Sarah at her first prom. She will miss her graduation, but I hope through my eyes, some of Melanie's spirit will come through. I am proud of Sarah, as I am of all the children in our lives that have become adults. Sarah went to her second prom last May. She may have one more yet to come, her senior prom. Through the camera I will capture these moments, as I knew her mother would have if she were here.
Sarah is the last child born to my siblings. She shall be graduating high school in June of 2016, and she is planning on trying to go to college in New Hampshire in the fall. The two pieces she wrote are worth sharing as part of our family history. Even just a few months before her mother, my sister Melanie, died, the two were still doing mother/daughter activities. Between hospital visits for my sister's declining health, Melanie was able to see Sarah go to her first prom at 16.
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| Melanie and Sarah at a dance recital in 2007 |
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| Mel, Sarah and Dave at Sarah's first prom 2014 |
The difference in Sarah is amazing. She turned out to be a lovely girl, and her mother was so happy to be able to see Sarah dressed up like a princess going to a ball. Melanie had been released from the hospital about 4 days before this, and I think the next day she was back in the hospital. I think it may have been the last time she was able to leave the hospital. That was in May of 2014.
In her last year of high school, Sarah has been taking creative writing. I am sharing her poem and her essay, both about the last few days of her mother's life. I was given an inside view of how she felt through both pieces. The night before Melanie died, we were all in the room. Sarah and Marc stayed the night. I cannot explain the emotion I felt that night, but I did recall the last night of my mother's life, also a victim of cancer. We were all in the room that night, and Melanie stayed all night. Our mother passed away the next morning, Thanksgiving Day 1998. To read what Sarah wrote, I feel I may have gotten some insight into how Melanie felt when our mother died. I did not have the courage to stay with my mother when she died, or my sister. I am grateful to Sarah for this gift of writing she created regarding that last night.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Holding on to You
Hoping, waiting, dreaming, wondering,
How would this battle end?
Trapped for days, weeks, months,
On the cold hospital bed.
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| Sarah, Melanie and Amy in a family portrait |
Hearing whispers through the walls,
Words we couldn't understand,
All we could do,
Was hold your pale, bony hand.
It won't be long now,
This pain will be gone soon,
The longer you hold on,
The longer it will hurt you.
We held on to you,
As the time passed by,
But you still grew weaker,
Our hopes were left dry.
Without goodbyes,
Or tears filled with sorrow,
The beckoning walls whispered once more,
It was time to let go.
______________________________________________________________________________
Her essay for her final paper in creative writing is filled with such genuine feeling and emotion. There can be no doubt that this came from the heart. I have tried poems and essays about Melanie, but the one Sarah wrote says it all, captures much of what we all were feeling. Here is the essay. You might want to get some tissues for this.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Sarah Welch
1/06/16
Creative Writing
Final Writing
The Last Time
He told me 17 times before, "She's not going to make
it." with a hopeless look of defeat
in his eyes. But I had never felt anything. Not any of the
times that he told me. Not that I was
emotionless to what was going on. It was very real. But this
time was different. Those words hit
me straight through my heart.
I looked at him and I didn't have to say anything. He knew I
was coming with him back
to the hospital no matter what. No thoughts ran through my
mind other than how much longer I
had with her.
The rumbling storm swept across the sky. It looked at us as
we were driving to the center
of the storm; the hospital. The car was filled with silence,
while the sky shouted and struck the
ground with vicious bursts of power.
How much longer did I have?
We got to the hospital and ran to room 221. The room was
humid and had a stench of
must. Lying in the stiff hospital bed was my mother. I
looked at her pale white face, covered in
sweat from the pain she had been enduring. Then I looked at
her feet, I could never forget the
sight of her small, swollen feet. I wondered when the last
time she walked was; probably weeks.
We all sat in silence. The room was buried in lost hopes.
All that was left was a lifeless body
only held alive by the machines attached to her.
I knew my father felt a pain worse than any of us. A woman
whom he fell in love with at
first sight, whom he shared every thought and feeling with,
who gave life and is now losing hers.
He turned to me, looking straight into my eyes, "I
can't stay overnight, but if you want to
you can. Do whatever you feel most comfortable with."
"I'm staying." I said immediately.
My oldest brother, Marc, nodded, "I want to stay
too."
My other brother decided to go back home with my dad. I was
upset that they couldn't
stay with us, but I also felt okay with their decision. It
was a feeling of exasperation, yet
understanding. I hoped my whole family to be together for
the last moments with her. I sat in the
chair next to my mother, and stayed by her side while trying
to fall asleep, as my brother was
already asleep.
The room breathed with a calm air. I thought about all of
the moments that I got to share
my life with my mother, and how my mother shared her life
with me. I giggled as I remember a
story she told me many years ago. One blistering summer day,
she was outside with my oldest
brother, who was a toddler at the time. As she glanced away
for a bit, she looked in the pool and
saw something floating. Thinking it was my brother, she dove
into the pool, only to find that it
was a rodent, but could not longer be saved. I couldn't
quite remember what animal she thought
it was. Suddenly my mother moved around and looked up at me.
She was finally conscious. I had
no clue what I wanted to say to her, there was too much that
had happened since the last time I
had seen her, so I told her about all of the good things that
had happened to me.
She returned the smile, “I am so happy for you.” and she
fell back unconscious. Those
were the last words she spoke in this world.
I always wanted her to be proud of me no matter what. I did
my best, and did as she
asked. Looking back, I guess in the moment, I told her all
of the good things that had happened
so that she could still be proud of me. So that I really
knew in the end she was always proud of
me.
I refused to sleep. I was too worried that I would miss another
time that my mother would
wake up. I wanted to keep talking to her. I wanted one more
conversation; to tell her how much I
loved her and how much I would miss her.
As the night went on I became more drowsy, almost asleep. I
couldn't remember the
exact time, maybe 3 or 4 a.m. Moaning with pain, my mother
pressed the help button. Nurses
came rushing into the room. My mom couldn't find the words
to tell them how much pain she
was in. The nurses gave her morphine, and the moans began to
die down.
Every few hours she would toss and turn in discomfort. It
killed me to see her like this.
10:36 A.M. I was up by her right side. Curled up in a ball,
covered in the white crinkly
hospital blanket. I saw her pale, ghostlike face. A nurse knocked on the door.
"Is everything alright in here? I'm just checking in to
see Melanie."
She looked at my mother, and swiftly walked over. She
touched her arm and pulled back.
My brother and I looked at each other with confusion.
“I’m sorry guys, your mother has passed.”
The world stopped revolving. The room sat in complete
silence. All that was left was an
empty feeling in my heart. She's really gone.
Melanie saw Sarah at her first prom. She will miss her graduation, but I hope through my eyes, some of Melanie's spirit will come through. I am proud of Sarah, as I am of all the children in our lives that have become adults. Sarah went to her second prom last May. She may have one more yet to come, her senior prom. Through the camera I will capture these moments, as I knew her mother would have if she were here.
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| Sarah, Ryan and dad Dave, 2015 prom. |
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| Sarah 2015 |
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