Things I'll Never Forget

With my Mom's death so fresh and new (it has not been a month yet), there are so many things I feel I will never forget. Even if I wanted to forget, the memories push their way forward unbidden onto the video screen of my consciousness. I can only hope that with time and healing some of the sting will lessen.

The memory that keeps appearing today occurred on the day that Mom really understood that she was dying, and that she had days or maybe just hours to live. The doctor was there with us, telling her that her pneumonia was not responding to treatment. She started crying and then went into respiratory distress. We thought we were going to lose her that day. She told us she wanted to go home and I asked her if it was okay to call Hospice to help us. She said "Yes."

She was in so much physical distress that I didn't think she would stabilize enough that day for me to make that wish come true for her. I have never wanted to do something for a person so badly in all of my life. I felt that if I had to carry her home in my arms I would have done it.

But, she surprised us all, calmed down and her vital signs stabilized. I made the Hospice call. That afternoon while we were waiting for Hospice to come I was alone with Mom in her room. She asked me, "Am I dying?"

I am so glad I was there for her but I hated, and I still hate it, that I was the One she asked.

I said "Yes, Mom you are dying."

"How long?"

"I don't know Mom. Probably a few days, maybe a week. Your medicine isn't working anymore. I'm sorry."

She struggled to sit up in bed and leaned over and put her elbows on her knees. Holding her skinny arm and bony fist raised she said, "I am just so angry."

"I am just so angry."

Her words were without sound as the trach tube had stolen her voice by this time, but I had no trouble hearing her scream.

I'll never forget the look on her face as the reality of it all sank in for the first time. Anger and Despair formed a grotesque mask. It is a sight that I hope I never have to see on another human being, much less a loved one.

The reality of my own mortality came crashing in on me that day. Telling my Mom that she was dying and will die soon; and then being powerless to do anything at all about it was crushing.