The nurse saw Mom today and described this as the "active dying" phase. In my family, we call it time for the death party. You know, where everyone comes to the house and won't leave until it's over. The nurse said that she looks very comfortable, and we have plenty of ability to give her pain meds, both crushed and liquid. The nurse and I both have a gut feeling that tomorrow is the day.
Yesterday was hard. Mom was in an odd way -- I could see that she had shifted a bit, kind of like she wasn't in her body as much as before. I felt like I couldn't be as warm toward her as might have been ideal. I wasn't quite up for a lot of hand-holding and happy memories and reassurances and such. There has, historically, been more to our relationship than that warm fuzzy stuff. Then again, perhaps the feeling of distance wasn't coldness from me. Perhaps it was just the wind between two points that had moved further apart.
Last night my sister from Massachusetts came up, which was so helpful. She got to hear and helped me remember this wonderful phrase: Mom admired her hairdo and said that it looked like she had a "professional hair creeper." I will have to find a professional hair creeper!
Other blessings: I was having a devil of a time coming up with money in the form of a check for the cemetery. I can't access Mom's checking account. Today her friend just wrote out a check to the cemetery for $1,060.00 and handed it to me.
We're handling this funeral ourselves -- no funeral home. After checking into the logistics and legality of everything, I couldn't find anyplace that would sell the required grave liner to me as an individual. So a very nice funeral director has ordered it on my behalf, as well as the casket. With no service fee from the funeral home. A nice tip and a glowing letter of recommendation are in his future.
Now I am just trying to figure out what sort of eulogy to write. I'm having trouble getting started. It's portraying the intersection of truth and higher truth that has me stumped in this case.
Hi Shoshanna, You are in my thoughts. Miss you, Susan K.
ReplyDeleteLove you, Susan! Thanks for your note. I keep thinking about what you told me... "If it's not one thing, it's your mother!"
DeleteLady, I am so sorry. I wish I could do something to make this easier..... When it's over and you come back home, I would love to do something for you. I would offer to bring you a pile of home cooked food but my kitchen isn't kosher....I guess same applies for coming out here and staying out here in the country for a few days....take you out to dinner? Ice skating? Clean your house?
ReplyDeleteYou are a loving, kind, strong woman. The rest of your life is waiting for you--just hang in there.
Erika
Thanks, Erika. I am looking forward to the rest of my life. I will say, though, as much as this is difficult, I do feel like I am doing something important every single day. We will figure out something to do when I get home. Maybe you can come help me throw out a ton of stuff. 'Cause let me tell you, a little bit of stuff and a lot of space sounds like the best thing on earth right now! I'm not looking forward to dealing with the years of accumulated things here. And we've already made noticeable progress, but it is still daunting.
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