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There are two things that struck me right after my mother's death: the first is that I felt no relief in contrast to I planned, and the second I felt a lot more pain than I ever imagined.

When death is expected to close one of the things that matter most in the world and we live in the hard journey from day to day, we try to anticipate and arrive more or less to persuade himself that when death comes it will feel liberated. In fact, I immediately came to regret my long days at his bedside, and the reality of knowing that I will never see mom - reality yet predictable - stunned me with great violence.

I also realized the great opportunity that I had to accompany mom throughout her last trip. We could just say, I could take her hand one last time by telling him that I loved her. I'm so neither regret nor words, nor frustration. This now in, and I measure my grief at what point it is important.

That mom had just been blown away when I returned to France with my two little girls seems terribly unfair. I can only remember last summer when she was so happy to know that she would finally be a real grandmother and her little girl walking in the garden of acclimatization. It was his joy, his happiness. She already saw it, identifying parks around Neuilly, vendors of ice cream and toys. And then the drama in October, cancer. She taught me the phone, I collapsed into tears, thinking of my daughters who grow up without their French grandmother.

But I must not be too sad. Mom had a good life, she often said. 69 years is a good age, even if it is still early to leave. She was able to shake his little girls in her arms. And she has shown extraordinary courage in accepting his fate quickly in the early days. She never took pity on herself. And she fought to the end, not letting himself go a few days before the end, when she had no strength to lift my arms.

Interment will be held at the Montmartre cemetery in Paris Friday, March 5 at 11am. It is a rather long time, but I have to buy the concession to build the vault. There will be two seats, one for mom and one for dad. Monday I'm going to choose the location. I did not even know that was possible ...

On this blog I had never really written. It was his space. Now is also a little my space for me, because writing all this makes me feel good. I read with emotion your messages here and on the wire on Doctissimo mom, and I join with my family to thank you again Once the support you have given us throughout this ordeal.

Eric

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Mom died today at 21h. She died peacefully in his sleep. I was with her all day. I was out at 20:45, she took the opportunity to make a final bow and leave the scene.

Eric

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Since yesterday, Mom became very weak. She sleeps more and more, not having awakened Sunday. Today she told me to feel the life leave her small little.

She does not suffer, it is very well supported by nursing staff who did an excellent job.

Eric

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More images ... The happiness of this

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Grosse Fatigue ...

Grosse Fatigue, tomorrow it will get better, I will be there for my family who arrived in Latvia ... Those damn medications relieve me from one side, and of m'endorment another.
Thanks for your support, precious to my heart.

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The beating heart as love for an RV, I hurry to the streets to find Manini Jeanne Garnier. I padded tumbling into the atmosphere, still full of turmoil "outside", from the bustle of the street, jostling subway, the smell of exhaust systems to find "the lifelong friend of my mom" (I Yori am the daughter).

It tightens hands gently, I stroked her hair.
The TV lights, the computers running on his table with casters, it is "aware" as say Jean-Claude Vandamme. Open the outside world, even if after a visit by a nurse and some painkillers, she was acting a little nap before breakfast.
We have a delicious meal tray, we eat side by side, creamed mushrooms and steak with lentils ...

We talk about anything but mostly everything. From basic
.
so strong links that bind his family, his desire to put everything to rest, his bursts of creativity, poetry, and music too.

is sweet to be near her.

Time is suspended.
We are two tightrope above the empty ...

Eric's family has arrived in Latvia and tomorrow will be a big day because it will see all the little world, her husband, son and stepdaughter and discover the second granddaughter was born just almost.

I'm going retrouner mine. fed the heart, knowing that these moments are rare and precious and that nothing and nobody can rob me.

Eve

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Without speculate or predict, it seems to me that this post is in my past.
What makes me say this also that there is any cr za dns mz t ^ rtr, jr croispouboit Enira dessinr peumzidpzs an "od cover forgiveness
My son does this aor-s-lidi, he opened his rectify liu afunque vi = e Yuss understand? The

méédicaments work well beauciuo sedatives oiur dédralatiser the étiuffemrnt and peohinr oiur pain. It

Faur said the team by setting qautre for me and it all day. My problem is the ouffle, there is more air capacity which a doir evc relieve the physio and aerosols and the oxygen that I will always care. Otherwise eric yesterday went to the cemetery, I'll be buried Dand my beloved city, I am very happy that finally j'espèrebque will work. Shortly be 15th or 18th or Puteaux, Nanterre, Neuikky. I would monymartre.

I have not corrected the post Mom. Write it cost her a lot of effort, I leave as is. From now on, she would dictate his writings, if she has the strength.

His last goal: to finish its icon, a last look at his friends and see his little girls who arrive with my wife Monday in Latvia.

April 18 unfortunately seems a bit far. It may be buried in Montmartre is a great happiness for her to be with all his Parisian titis all classes commingled and other great artists.

Eric

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ON believes it finally came to the issue but it is wrong, it is still slow in coming and more and more devious. It is double the one hand she spits his lungs, the other she holds them into long filaments transparent. Losing your breath is an expression we should use wisely, otherwise it will give little importance to breath without it does not even allow absolumment raise an eye toward the horizon recedes. That night I called mom and I screamed for help, but the girl who just the night told me to shut up because I'm worried the whole floor with my screams of piglets and that we could let me not lead an entire floor of patients in the anxiety to which I unfortunately I could not. What is known about anxiety? I also thought it was a symptom of selfish people who can do nothing but complain about everything and nothing. False. Absolumment false. Anxiety is a serious disease that leads to death when we are no longer able to control it. Yet there are those who approach you and you calm down a cool hand placed on the forehead and another that lead you into the abyss of humiliation without of course you want it. Tell me that I was a baby patient who called her mom at my age I was devastated, there is no age to call his mom when you're scared, and fear I recognize it takes me to the heart of breath and I choke. So if this is where I should cry for help then yes I cry

"O God, to thee I cry my pain, I say come and get me Lord, deliver me from the evils of the world, and if I am worthy of giving me the peace of heaven that you promised to the righteous. rejected by some, reviled by others, it is a one day where I cry to you. I say why the men have made the earth a hell? Your work is so fine lord, yet we are worthless and are unable to live in harmony within your creation. I say: look at the poor, the afflicted and the poor, the humble and the sick, the persecuted and excluded because they have nothing. And look at me as Lord, even if I have both. Oh sweet Lord Hallowed be thy name forever, give me peace of heart and mind, and if it be thy will, when Judgement Day comes, give me eternity with you. "

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What about to so many innocent eyes? That soon my love will know the hell of abandonment? Dealing with so much distress? For the moment everything goes well, they are in the provinces with their teacher who cares the best he can, but the master is disabled and can not walk them or take them out, they just prepare the meal morning is not bad. Then Yolanda comes to 10 hours to help my husband in his daily tasks, then around 11 pm is walk dogs, fortunately before they had access to the terrace for their needs, in fact the balcony door is open throughout the night, rain or shine, and so my dear Small dogs do not feel confinement. Yolanda then leave their homes and it's time for Anna to come and take care of my husband and dogs, about 16 to 18H, the last hour walk. This is an excellent introduction and exactly what I got from my hospital bed to organize. Need all those social workers who say that one is entitled to nothing because it exceeds the limit of a few euros, Zmmm, no need to beg, first as it is taken and who wants j 'I have chosen two wonderful daughters, then with the tax relief it provides a bit which is not negligible. But then

and my dogs? What will happen next? As my husband will continue and no problem, but when I die what will happen to his morale, his loneliness, his desire to continue or not? The post with dogs is not the same with cats, and I can not separate my dogs have lived together for over 8 years is a pack with the smallest which is the dominant c is all!

For now I was down more possible solution to "give" by finding them a good home where they will be pampered, it's so hard to know if we fall fair to both parties. The

Toquet (Troika) has no teeth but it decides when it bites Yolanda not wanting to leave in the morning, Toquet hates the rain. Titi is a big fat father who thinks only of fondling and eating, it becomes very big. The Totoche (Tosca) is a jealous adored me, touch me not otherwise Toquet takes an earful!

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is true it must be fair, I did not really answer all of your so nice comments about the episode that we will call "Noctambus Crocus Jeanne Garnier.

First is repaired, no scandal in the maneuvers starting, just a crooked hat rolled ball that stuck in my craw but I did not smothered with nothing to make a winter crocuses, but a spring crocus Noctambus. Why

a crocus? because it is a symbol of spring birthday which wants to take me until 18 April. Noctambus Why? Because in my head there a large bus waiting Earthlings SDF decided not to wait any longer God, they thirst for truth but the real source, the more life is not.

So yes, I have not left my hat, I did not, but my clogs, I not to try to form a ball bag that I took with me to leave the hospital. What an idiot! I clung to the pipe bed, I could not even reach the cabinet, or anything else because everything is done to aides, nothing really for the sick. Since it has changed! I put a wolf in sheep and he watches over me. For example, the wastebasket is near my bed and cons over the door of the bathroom which helped many women in service to empty but I was useless to me. I am also angry with frequent drug use that spent its time introducing myself to the store once before I could even use one so they were useless and because of that I could not get a good oral hygiene gold when you know what this joke there is rather careful.

Finally there was the episode of 16h each day that took immense importance, since it is set but it was with tears of blood I say. Now it will be done for me, it was realized that letting go was nearly drove me mad and really not a poor girl crazy in his head like that idiot said lemon juice cinnamon.

Well, not bad writing when you know to write a page or make a drawing for an hour spent at "work" at least three are going to pitch down on the computer ...

I did not escaped from the house Jeanne Garnier, I do not escape, they do not keep me prisoner in the least, they showed much respect for me, things have been said, while is arranged by word, I'm willing to believe that some drugs are just mounted me on the head, the trick is to notice and thus arrive at correct, for my eyes have seen, it must wait, perhaps be that end it was a small stroke.

For MDA, I believe that you have selected what you needed, you are at home, there's no better place, you are well surrounded, kiss and Felix Tralala, if you knew how much I miss Troika, Tweety and Tosca!

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Ah!

Big problem for me here, probably anger retained for too long, misunderstanding face the bad faith of those who never recover in question, the big angry how one treats me or pain in the ass baby, still is it that I do not stay then I'm off! Moreover, we do not accept me, sick that they have more than they need, no need for the crazy Unit St Joseph plug the mess in the service. Here I am still stunned by the force inside me, what's all this breathing? Now I just clean my lungs, pushing a masterful and will gueulante dieu it's good to find her voice, her strength, her independence! Farewell going girls, ostrich farm and bééés celebrity, nothing is worth it to me a program for the upcoming week, Sunday morning ensured. Inwardly I laugh, she would ask questions the team, yeah What, what what went wrong? Everything, EVERYTHING. And all is what? organizing, planning, word of mouth, everything that makes a team runs well. But there, enough is enough, no one listens it's not possible, then yeah it sure is not serious but not serious today will be tomorrow and that is why I ask leave. I was not afraid here now, yes, very scared, I know what will happen, I was too promises to the contrary and I can not see what is the truth. Too many small streams swollen forgetting. Berk, I do not know where I'm going but my poor son has no chance for it once again to bear him the painful task find me a home for tomorrow because I am willing to stay another night. Without dinner. Hi hi! They are the mouth, too, na. Except that I am over 12 years and I do not sulk but I bar.

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That dear blog, I learned to tame, no more long posts written in vain because qu'envolés before they appear in their case, the WiFi here is fantastic but it is for the medical home and do can respond to every post in particular, you should take the precaution of writing his record for not losing it, and no error from jet set for the mail to file in remote areas where waiting feverishly or not encrabouillés subscribers. What a job to deliver all these words of solace or death. But what a pleasure also to communicate.
Yesterday I made myself thinking about that when I wrote a long message for MDA, a journalist for Libération who has a very nice blog on the other side of the canvas or wall, or mirror, or drawer next door. How to be named when there was no trade, we do not necessarily want, finally here I speak instead of me because I accept mda exchange but as time lost the most often look for the other, and anyway this message got lost in the wilds of Nevada.
It happened a funny thing yesterday but not before yesterday. I thought I noticed a black band encircling the front mda like the Ninja combat ready. This has interfered in the picture right column but quickly disappeared. The proof is that I wrote this impression and it remained as a draft in the notebook of unpublished posts. Not sure I make myself understood but the heart is very strong in the direction of mda, and left to look stupid I'm stupid for that matter, I feel all this falls like a fly in the soup of meat fondue with onions fried well, and that MDA is not entitled to what she should be entitled. And then I do not mean the hole in the safety, to afford the luxury of even Dudivan or not, I mean the most basic of rights: support. Yet curiously, the day after this strange impression banner encircling the front of this woman appeared for the first time the issue of death, the death penalty imposed by it and not the commentators.
I have something to say about that, about this support. But where do you think I ought to write in comments on the blog MDA, through direct mail, here?
Maybe this is too intrusive to interfere, but actually a great anger took hold of me through the comments made during this support and it seems to me that something better could be expected MDA. Do you agree that I give you my feelings about your care?

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As everything changes! She arrives

Who can say where this street chic an affluent suburb of Paris? Photo taken in about 1955 years ... The young man is my brother.

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There is no time to write falsely, stupidly, to the angel or the ass that one is not, no, it's time to be yourself, natural, and certainly not bad. Now I must confess yesterday afternoon I was nasty and obviously with the person who can least defend itself because without "power", namely the volunteer. Regardless of the episode, I ask the boy to forgive me when I see it, I was just in distress with the death of my neighbor who had last gasp when the young wanted to move my bed instead of the wheelchair to go to art center therapeuthic. This requires a large investment to remove the bed because you must disconnect the microphone from the TV, Oxygen, blah, which amounts to about the same with the wheelchair in less hard but at least the wheelchair he handles more easily. In short he meant well but did not know how and instead of saying thank you expect the person authorized to draw chair I told him that when we did not know how we did not. This is a rare evil at the same time I was clueless and could care less about going to classes or not. They say fault confessed is half forgiven but not here because I am looking for an apology!


Yes, it happens, I feel it is as if there were two in me and it happens around 4:30 in the morning. I wake up, still in the same position as before bedtime. Ankylosed around I know I can not do what I do, very curious as print, then I feel my lower jaw to contract, relax and eventually fall as if nothing was holding her. Now I know it's late, I see the bottom of my lower face, I'm dead.

Except that I'm alive and that the day starts late because if I wrote this post at the appointed time on this blog I simply forgot to post it! hihi. Thing repaired ...

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at 15:40 you made your last breath my dear neighbor, in your sleep, as the most peaceful. That's what I was told. In fact I know that's how it happened, I've felt Annie. Yes, same name as me, and here in this beautiful home medical Jeanne Garnier for much longer than me, this is also the hope, you were much more than you had hoped. When it happened I was expecting that the rise in art therapeutic purposes, was a volunteer at my side telling me about the physical suffering which I had told him that the best way not to endure it was not talk ... It gave me reason. That's when I heard crying, was you Annie? I said to myself "It does not go well." Then a man's voice took over, a longer complaint, and then of course I knew that you were now at peace. Annie sleep well, I thanked the nurses who allowed you to fall asleep peacefully in your sleep, I thanked him for you and for myself in advance too, you never know ...

is the prelude of the icon which began last Thursday, the heart is too tight this afternoon to concentrate and devote myself, but you were with me Annie, knowing that you were Trusty and for this workshop which is good for the soul. That this stereotype is that wink that connects us may already be in our future artistic ... Radiant Angels, here we come!

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