Thank You for Holding On

Despite my early suspicion that it could no longer do so, the world somehow continues to turn. We are carrying on, just like you asked of us. We're growing up and making choices that we hope will lead to happiness, because now we are living a good life not just for ourselves, but for you. Because you are up there watching us, and all you ever wanted was for us to be happy.

Your baby boy leaves for Europe next week. He will spend 2 years in Grad school, traveling all over and seeing places he's never been before and learning things that will make him even better equipped to run the world some day. He's always been the more adventurous Carlin sibling, considering I have never left the country (unless you count West Virginia, which you should.)

I always tell people that watching Neal with you in your last few months was by far the most heart-breaking part of your battle. I know I threw a hairbrush at his face, but it was only one time, and my job as the big sister is supposed to be to protect my baby broski at all costs. Unfortunately, I couldn't shield him from losing his mom at 23. I couldn't step in and lift you up when you got too weak, and frankly he probably wouldn't have let me anyway. I couldn't stop you from slipping away from us, and neither could anybody else. 

I talked to Aunt Mardie when you started to really decline quickly, and I told her "If this lasts for 6 months, God help us all." She said when we were ready to do so, it was important that Neal and I both tell you that it was okay for you to let go. I started talking to you about it that very night, perhaps selfishly for myself, because it was getting harder and harder to watch...I could see you fading; but your baby boy just wasn't ready yet.

Weeks went by and we moved you back to Pittsburgh and set up your Hospice care. People came and went and sat next to your bed while holding your hands and talking to you, but Neal rarely ever left your side. You held on longer than any of us expected, not because we questioned your strength, but because you of all people preached and preached about quality of life and it was no longer there for you. 

I remember losing it as I watched Neal's face at the foot of your bed when a friend of the family said "this will probably be her last night." I remember hearing his shaky voice as he read "I'll love you forever" to you one last time, and I remember that heart broken look in his eyes as the priest read your last rights. 

It was only recently that Neal told me "you know, I didn't tell mom it was okay to go until that last weekend." He said he stayed up with you one night and just apologized for all the little douchey things he did or said to you as a kid (which is fair, it probably would take a good 8 hours to recount them all...;))

It amazes me what the heart can do for those it loves, despite the condition of the body as a whole. Your body was probably ready to be done weeks before your heart was finally at peace with saying goodbye. But I look back at all the people who got to see you one last time, and I know it must have been important to you. 

Thank you for holding on until both of us were "ready" to let you go.

Please watch after Neal in his travels. Sometimes, the kid does some real dumb shit. And if you or "Santa" happen to find those eight pop up books or that gumball machine, I'd say the kid has earned it...

"When I look to the sky, something tells me you're here with me."

Dear mom,

Thanks for breaking the air conditioner in my car. It makes me appreciate having someone in my life that's willing to fix it, not sweating on my way to and from work anymore, and having a car to get me to and from places (especially in the heat of the Florida summer.) Because not everyone has those things. But seriously, I need a convertible.

Thanks for putting a couple jerks in my life, because it makes me appreciate all the people I have who don't fit that description. The ones who make me laugh, fix my aforementioned busted air conditioning, send me text messages telling me what my plans are for Sunday Funday because they know I'm totally down no matter what they are as long as they're with them, sit and BS with me at a bar for hours over refreshing brewskis, go guitarfishin' with me no matter how many times I disappoint them, etc. They are all that really matters at the end of the day. 

Thanks for being the reason I am addicted to sugar by giving me and Neal "vanilla milk" before bed every night when we were kids. But seriously, donuts and cake make the world go round..."everything in moderation", as you always said...

Thanks for brightening up the Florida sky while the sun is setting. Just when I thought it couldn't get any more beautiful, I remember you are up there.

Thanks for the ducks that sit along the docks at work. I thought I was pretty clear when I said PAYDAYS and M&Ms, but I'll take ducks and deer, too.

Thanks for giving me so many memories in the 28 years that you were here with me. I feel like some many conversations I have lately at some point involve "my mom used to...", and it only "brings a chuckle to my face." 

Thanks for being such a dork. 

Thanks for being so strong and unbreakable, even in the last year of your life. It makes me remember that if you could go head to head with cancer and all the crap that came with it without ever complaining, I can't complain about the small things. 

I will find the silver linings in the clouds, the blessings in disguise, and the signs you send us to remind us all that you are watching over us.