You think you’re ready, but you’re not…

When I was 19 and nine months pregnant with my first child, my father-in-law (father of my first husband) died suddenly on the operating table at the age of 51.  No one was ready for that!  It was a very painful ordeal for everyone, even me although I had only known him for about a year.  My mother-in-law still had five children at home.  No one was ready…

When Daddy was traveling down that long Alzheimer’s road, I thought I was prepared for his passing.  Just before I turned 33, we were called to the home one night when it seemed Daddy wouldn’t make it through the night.  He did, and it was another month or so before we were called again.  I was handling it fine until he drew his last breath at the age of 71.  I so wanted my brothers to fix it!  They couldn’t, of course, and after spending the day with my siblings handling the needs of the time – preparing the obituary with the newspaper, helping Mom with the planning of the service, etc. – I went home and cried for four days straight.  I wrote the eulogy for the service and cried the entire time I was writing it.  To this day, 25 years later, I can start crying just because I hear a particular hymn or song.  I guess I really wasn’t ready.

Now we’ve been traveling down this long road with Mom.  There have been times when I thought the end was near and I even made the arrangements for her eventual passing, just so we wouldn’t have to come up with it at the last minute. 

Making those arrangements doesn’t really mean that you are ready though.  I talk a good talk about wanting her to be happy and comfortable – and I truly do!  When you come right down to it, even though she is 97 and even though she has dementia, I can bet I’ll be crying when the moment comes, wishing my big brothers could fix it!

Today was just another one of those times when I realize how I feel deep down, beyond reasonable thought.  I was with Mom today as a wonderful hospice doctor examined her.  Dr. T, a very kind and comforting woman, first found that Mom’s lymph nodes are enlarged, especially on the left side, and that is why her left foot is swelling.  Mom was perfectly compliant so the doctor continued the examination and found a mass inside Mom’s vagina.  It was large and it was bleeding.  Dr. T didn’t press further for more information because she didn’t want to distress Mom.  What she found was enough to put Mom on hospice care.

After the exam, I cleaned the blood off of Mom and got her dressed.  As I stood her up from the bed, I hugged her tight as I gave her time to get her feet under her and ready to move.  I took the time for hugs and kisses prior to the exam, to keep her calm during the exam and after.  Mom loves her hugs and kisses!  No time to think about what I was feeling deep down until later, when I was alone.

The good news in all this?  Mom was her usual, happy self!  As we were walking to her room to meet with the doctor, I was holding Mom up as she walked.  She pointed at her foot, which was obviously hurting, and said, “That’s what makes me know that I’m here.”  We both laughed, that, yes, it did!

The other good news?  In a moment of clarity, Mom looked at me while she was lying on her bed and said, “You’re mine, always have been and always will be.”  I was happy to say, “Yes, I am. I’m your baby and always will be.”