She's Dying

She's dying. And with that has come a day like no other in my life. In fact in my present emotionally exhausted state it looks to me like this has been a day of strangely fast-paced darkness. A woman is said to be dying; darkness seems to be everywhere; but activity that now seems to be little more than whistling in the dark has filled this day.

The day started with what seemed to be intimations that Mom would be returning home, impaired but on meds of some kind or other to help her function for an indefinite period ... as before, in fact. Then a doctor told me that Mom seems to have only 20% - 30% heart capability; and since she can't tolerate the degree of Lasix needed to drive the necessary fluids from her lungs - Lasix now drives her blood pressure far too low - she could die at any time. "This is a serious life-threatening condition. You should tell any relatives who want to see her to come now." said the Doc.

I burst into tears and frankly didn't stop crying for what seemed aeons ... but which probably was only 10 minutes or so. I was able to find a space of lucidity and told Mom ... who said that she understood and that this was just the way things are. Frankly, Mom's demeanor astonished me all day. Things she said included: "When you've done everything and seen everything, it's time to move on" and compliments to me on how I've fixed up the house, and grateful words to others for all they've done. And she restated that she wanted to go home to die.

I called my sister ... who lives a few states away .. who after a number of phone calls ultimately decided not to come to see my Mom before she died; although she willingly talked with her on the phone. I heard my Mom say several times "I understand".

I called my aunt, my mother's sister. She and two of my cousins came over. We had a family conference with several doctors again who in effect reiterated what had been said. Ultimately, as my mother's health care proxy, with agreements from Mom, my aunt, and my sister, I signed a DNR order and requested on my mother's behalf that she be discharged home as soon as possible with a request that Hospice be assigned. These things were carried out with dispatch and kindness by everyone at the hospital. And now my Mom is at home. I am looking at her now laying in a hospital bed on loan from Hospice. She is expected to live, according to docs, "days or weeks" under present conditions: namely, she's on oxygen and little more.

I'm oddly, though, focused at this point. I think my initial denial and horror and overwhelming sense of sadness has given way to a sense of a new, though very temporary, Vocation: to help make my mother's passing a time of love, of honor, of respect, of dignity.

But O God the aching void. The sudden recogntion again and again during the day that so many things I hoped to do with or for her are simply no longer options. No going together to the State Fair. No more Halloweens together. No more Thanksgivings. No more Christmases together. No trip together to Hornersville. No more stories of her own life or the lives of our ancestors that have dwelt in her memory.

All over, all gone, all done. No more. "It is finished."

Hail Mary full of Grace the Lord is with thee
Blessed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the Fruit of thy womb Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Amen.