My Heart Skips a Beat

Yesterday (Wednesday) evening, I am at work, counting down the minutes until I can leave.

My cell phone rings and my heart skips a beat--it is my father's ringtone. Dreading "the call" (as I think of it), I answer.

Of course, nothing had really changed. He was just calling to see how I was, and give me an update.

It's sort of amusing (to me, anyway) how freaked out I was for a few seconds. I guess, the emotional roller coaster ride continues....

Another Update

Another update:

Last night was rough but Dad was on duty. She was up most of the night and throwing up.
I stayed with her so dad could sleep til' about 1:30.
Gave her some meds for that.
Today had another bout so we cranked up some compazine.
Lots of visitors - Doreen, Kelly Gilbert, Kristin from her work.
She did some talking to Dad last night about the past (good things) and then this a.m. about Sam and would he remember her. Dad reassured and then talked about the other grandkids as well.

I don't know if this is uplifting or depressing. Or both.

Mom

This just in from Heather via email

Hospice confirmed our suspicions today that Mom could pass away at any moment. She is sleeping a whole bunch, doesn't talk, and generally seems in the process of detaching from us. We know she is a fighter so she could surprise us all. Here's is hoping it's easy for her.

Phone Call

I called Monday morning, but Mom asleep. Late in the afternoon (around quarter to 5, my time), Heather (a.k.a. Super Sister!) called me and said that Mom had just woken up, so I could call back in about ten minutes to talk to her after they had given Mom her meds.

Mom is not talking much anymore. In fact, on Sunday Heather said that she had completely stopped talking. So I didn't really expect to have a conversation; I assumed it would be a monologue for Mom's comfort.

I call. Heather puts me on speaker phone, and says she will 'translate' for me if need be. I'm still a little dazed from the phone call and now, less than 24 hours later, I can't remember exactly what happened, but part of the conversation went something like this. I thanked her for being my Mom, and then she said something I didn't understand. I uttered a confused, 'What?" and then Heather translated for me, "She said, 'You're welcome.'"

And that just about did me in. It's hard for me to even type this--those are the last words I will ever hear from my mother.

I held it together and managed to finish the monologue (I'm sure that if I could remember it, I could win a Pulitzer for it). Then my Dad said that he loved me. Now, what's unusual about this is that my parents got separated (and eventually divorced) over 30 years ago. I knew he was there to help my sister + brother-in-law with all the physical demands on them, but I didn't know he was in the room as I was saying my final good-byes to my Mom via speaker phone. That was kind of weird.

But, I'm a weird guy, so I guess that's fitting. :)

All of a Sudden

All of a sudden, I started feeling numb.

It looks like the end is near, and I guess it's just starting to hit me. Heather sent an email today.

We are definitely getting close to the end.  She isn't talking much at all and doesn't want to.  Doesn't want visitors too long.  Doesn't really want to look at pictures and such. Part of the letting go.  She uses hand gestures to communicate.... breathing is slowing (but still pretty steady).  We have all told her our goodbyes and that we would be okay- Uncle Dud called today and I held the phone up for her.

I guess this is it.