a year ago

I killed my mother.

At least that’s what my aunt (my mother’s youngest sister) told me the day my mom died.

On January 23rd of last year, 2006, I accompanied my mom and two of her sisters to an oncology appointment. During that appointment we viewed the images from my mom’s last CT scan. It was obvious even to me that her tumor had grown enormously. The doctor listed my mom’s options.

I got down on my knees and sobbingly begged my mom to stop all treatment. She was so weak and so tiny. I really felt like anymore would kill her. When she said “Ok, I’m done.” her doctor hugged her and said “I’m glad that’s your choice.”

Eight days later, my mommy was dead. And my aunt Linda said I was the one who killed her.


4 responses to this post.

  1. My first urge is to say, “Fuck Aunt Linda.” But how much does that help, really? The fact is, Aunt Linda has her own shit, regarding your mother’s illness, her life, their relationship, whatever, and it is SO much easier to push it all onto you, and tell herself that story than to tell herself the truth about where the poison in her comes from.

    Don’t be the container for her poison, Traci.



  2. Traci, my father stopped his treatment, too (same heartless disease). He led the rest of the family to believe that the doctor told him that he could not take any more treatment. I found out by accident that that was untrue. I never confronted him. I respected his decision. Your mom made a decision for herself, too. I agree with Susie about your aunt.


  3. That is just SO wrong. You freed her.


  4. You didn’t kill her, you didn’t free her, you didn’t anything except let her know what you thought, what you wanted, and then let her decide. She made the choice, her doctor agreed with it, and Susie is right on the money.


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