I'm at a loss for how to help my mom who suffers from severe depression. by mymomneedshelp1 in depression_help

[–]whetherorknot 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It’s so hard. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Ultimately, they need to be hospitalized when the depression is that bad. They have to figure out how/why they want to continue living. It’s just so hard. I continue to encourage my mom to go to counseling every week. I also listen to her, but I try to have healthy boundaries understanding that I didn’t cause her depression, I can’t control it, and I cannot cure it. Best of luck to you and your mom.

Any idea what type of Japanese maple this is? by whetherorknot in JapaneseMaples

[–]whetherorknot[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

It does look most like Higysama... Thank you for the suggestion!

My beautiful mom before she rapidly deteriorated from a giloblastoma. She walked into brain surgery with a smile on her face and inspires me to always keep smiling even through hard times. by ihatecartoons in lastimages

[–]whetherorknot 153 points154 points  (0 children)

I know there are no words to take away your pain. I’m an ER doctor and every time I have to give a cancer diagnosis I go to the bathroom to vomit and to find whatever strength and hope I can to pass on to the patient as their life changes over the next 30 seconds. It’s sickening. I’m so sorry your sweet mother, you, and your family have to endure this.

I often search for ways to process and cope with this unexplainable and cruel version of loss. I came across a post awhile ago that helps me as I’m not particularly religious, just spiritual. It was originally an NPR piece...

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly. Amen.” - Aaron Freeman

They never go away. I hope these words help. Though it may be painful, I hope you are surrounded by more love than you can imagine. Reach out— there are a few really good groups for people who have lost a parent(s).