So sorry to hear you're suffering. We have a lot in common, you and I.
I just lost my own mother (she turned 84 in February) but was a feisty, strong soul, determined to live long and hard). She drove me nuts too, always pushing me to do this rather than that....that rather than this. I felt she was so bossy, always wanting her way, couldn't even SEE my side of things, or didn't want to, or maybe just couldn't....just brushed me aside so she could repaint me with her, bigger brush.
ANYWAY..... because I had avoided visiting her for over a month (she and my father lived in a nearby nursing home).....I was always in my head, imagining a perfect conversation with her....ya know? the kind where you both apologize for all the hurtful things you said or did to one another, then you fall into one another's arms in a big hug, expressing your tenderest heartfelt love, and all is forgiven and forgotten, so you can start afresh......that one: know it?
Well then, on March 20th, the morning of that BIG MOON, I get a call at 6AM saying "your mother died this morning".
I did a double take; it took several long minutes for it to sink in.
I cannot tell you all the thoughts that went through my mind, beginning with denial: "No, she couldn't die; I was coming to visit her today, at long last.....no! she was too strong-willed; she didn't want to, wasn't ready;I wasn't ready..... nor all the pains that shot through my body for the next two weeks....
It has been a very difficult six weeks.
I never got my perfect goodbye. Never got to say to her all the things I had always wanted to say (about how much I love her, despite everything (on both our parts), to thank her for raising me, etc....
and then it was too late. Let me tell you: there is no second chance, once the last breath is breathed. I stood by her dead corpse at 8AM, telling her anyway. I felt pathetic. It was too late, I felt like a super-coward.
I realized then and there that it had been my ego, my own judgmental mind, which was preventing me from reaching over all the pain to just be with her in kindness and simplicity. I had wanted to be there with her for her last breath. But it came too fast.
I apologize if this sounds more like my story than yours; but if anything good can come of my last six weeks of painful grief, I'm hoping to give you an opportunity to spare yourself the extra suffering, created by one's own over-active imagination.
Just spill over with kindness towards her; let it be all about her and her needs, not about yours. Then when it comes your time to die, maybe someone will be as kind to you in return. (What goes around comes around). Good luck. My heart is with you.