Saturday, October 16, 2010
It has been almost a week now since the beginning of this. Mom was coughing on her food last Saturday, but was here at home with me. I called hospice and they said to mix it with ice cream making it a frosty like substance. Seems like a life time ago. I have had 6 days to get used to this idea, and most of the time now, I am used to it. She will never come home here with me again. Her bed will never be slept in by her again, nor will her clothes be worn by her. She lies in the hospital very peacefully. She is sleeping most of the time. Mom doesn't open her eyes very often, but she can't focus on anything when she does. There are people there when I am not. It is a program the hospital has so Mom will have someone with her when I am not. I am so happy with that program despite the reason why they have that program. I spoke with Margaret who has sat with Mom several times now. She is hanging on, I don't know why. I told her it was okay with all of us to go. My aunt is waiting for her so is her grandmother. My heart is breaking but her long, terrible journey of Alzheimer's is gone. She will no longer be the fragile person she became and while I find comfort in that, my heart is breaking. It is difficult to sit there with her and watch her barely breathe knowing that she can hear me but can't answer me. She can't recognize me anymore and that is hard because most of the time she knew who I was so I didn't have to go through the agony of her not knowing me. I know she will be better off, but despite all these things, my heart is just breaking. I will be strong for her because she wants me to. She raised me to be strong, despite being ill. I will miss her and I miss her now even though I can still see her. I can still touch her but she can't hug me so I hug (as best as you can with someone who is lying down) hug her. I tell her how much I love her and how lucky I was that she is my mother. God knew what he was doing when he gave me to her. She was the best mother in the world. The complete best.