Ellen Rogers

About my Mother's death 6 years ago

About my Mother's death 6 years ago

My blog feels incomplete without this post on it. I wrote it in May 2010. Its odd reading this now, which is to say- its odd reading myself as an unrecognisable girl of 25, heart broken beyond my ‘then’ comprehension. Now when reading it I can hear her anger and her spite. Feelings she had to feel.

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My mother died last week, she had barely turned 50.

My boyfriend and I were visiting Norfolk where my parents live when my father took us straight to the hospital. We didn’t know she was ill, turned out she didn’t either.

After that visit she lasted about 6 days.

Tobias was away for most of them recording a band and I slept every night with my door open and the lights on, in her dressing gown.  Hoping for comfort.

The day he returned my mother died, he missed the 12 hour days of watching her go slowly mad and die.
The 5 of us, my family, held each other and mum’s hand and would not leave her side.
During this time she wrote us all a letter.

We managed to convince the nurses to let us have her at home for a few days, they gave birth to both beauty and terror. We watched our coherent wonderful loved one turn into a husk, someone we no longer knew or understood.

She went back to the hospital and we were given our own room.
It was hell, I think, possibly. It is hell, replaying it over and over is hell.

During her stay at home, I showed her my recent photo shoots I had been working on in London the weeks before. There were three, two in places of rest and one in a forest.

The forest shoot was for Vice magazine, she didn’t think much of those, but she liked the other two, that was until she could see faces in them, clear as day, she would tell me where the head was tilted and what way he or she was looking. It terrified my cousin but fascinated me, I kept asking questions about them, who they might be? Are they dead? After all they were in grave yards.

Later in the hospital she began screaming that there was a man with long gloves near us, trying to get to her, we couldn’t see anyone but shortly after telling us that she took her last gasps and died.

I miss her every second she was my best friend and my father has lost the love of his life he is in pieces.

If you have ever been though something like this you will know exactly how I feel and my heart is with you  (please let me know because I would like very much to talk to you) , if you have not you cannot understand what staring death in the face looks like, feels like, but you will.

Rest in peace Mum.

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