Aug. 29: 10:30 am. I’ll try doing this post again. There are few things that irritate me more than trying to re-create something that I had written and proofed and thought done. Oh well! It think I’ll just pretend I never wrote that earlier post. This is the first time I am sitting down to write an update of the morning.
I got here a little after 8, and when I peeked in the door to Mom’s room, she and Dad were both snoozing away in the quiet, darkened room. So I waited in the nice sitting area across the hall until Dad woke up and the doctor stopped by. We talked with the doctor about Mom’s pain med needs. On top of the difficult journey she is in the process of undertaking, Mom also has a bladder infection. I think that it has caused her quite a bit of discomfort and has led to some of her moments of anxiety the last day or so.
So we’re dealing with the bladder infection, and I helped the nurses this morning get Mom washed up and wearing some pjs. Flowers have been coming into her room, and there are lots of sunflowers and lilies, which makes me happy.
11:45 am. I was just on the phone this morning with Joe for quite a while. He’s at Bowdoin in Maine, and we just talked about everything that is going on here and how everyone is doing. His classes start tomorrow, and he’s kind of wondering how he will possibly get his mind around a new set of courses given the life-altering things that are happening here at home. Joe’s an amazing person, and he’s showing so much maturity and fortitude and empathy through this whole ordeal.
That said, I’m surrounded by amazing people. I feel really lucky to have a community both here and afar who are pouring love and support on us all. I think I received about 30 emails yesterday from my friends and most of Mom’s friends and family members… It helps hold me up.
I’m feeling a little brighter than I was this morning. While I was coming in to Hospice this morning, I was overcome with a feeling of general weariness. I just felt like there was this big weight filling my whole torso that just wasn’t going to go away. The fact that Mom is still here with us makes me grateful, and I’m really trying to appreciate these days of knowing that she is here and I can talk to her and touch her. But I’m also becoming increasingly aware that she is not going to be here long and that things in our lives are never going to be the same. I ache so much for my siblings and my dad and Terry and all Mom’s dear friends and siblings and her Mom and our extended family and everyone who is hurting right now.
Mom has made so many peoples’ lives brighter and more gracious and more true. I feel like she’s had a positive impact on the lives of so many people. She’s been so open about inviting us all into her circle. My mom is the hub of a huge web, and I so hope that we can find ways of binding ourselves tighter together to keep our web intact without her physical presence at our center.
It hurts so very much to contemplate life without her.
Not just for myself, but for my children and my siblings and their spouses and children, and my poor dad, and so many of us who rely on her for her solid advice and for the way that she can subtly positively impact all our lives.
It’s just such a sad time.
Mom’s been resting very peacefully, breathing evenly and slowly for the last hour or so. I’m glad I can sit next to her as I think through a lot of these thoughts. It feels good to be in her presence.
With love,
Althea