Good Vitals

Her vitals look good the nurse says when she comes to change out the morphine in Mom's pain pump. Usually good vitals is a good thing, but my stomach feels eerily sick. We have been watching her imminent now for two days...... 48 hours, 1440 minutes, 86400 seconds of staring blankly into space with glazed over eyes, mumbling sentences with a vengeance and we can't make out what she is saying but she wants us to know so bad, or she looks at rest. Resting is definitely the preferred right now, but it doesn't always last long. She hasn't eaten in 7 days, her legs are so frail, so thin and yet she is hanging on to every last gasping breath.

There are no words to prepare you, comfort you, or to help you through something like this. I never realized we would be watching her suffer, she would have never wanted this, and especially would have never wanted us to see this. The only way that I can describe it is brutal. Brutal to witness, brutal to endure. She's starving to death, her organs are shutting down and she has to be dehydrated....she begs for water. She struggles to drink the water, as to not gulp it down in her thirst but to get enough to quench it. 

I have begged God to take her to the home he has prepared for her in Heaven. I will be the first to admit, I have been angry at God for that which I do not understand but I have also been thankful. Thankful to have known her love and thankful to have been chosen to be her daughter. I do not know his plan but I know that whatever it is, we are all a part of it and that some time soon he will take my Mom to live in his kingdom forever and ever, and I will glorify the day he does.

Imminent

imminent

adjective

1.    likely to occur at any moment; impending:

Her death is imminent.

Hospice defines her as imminent when the nurse comes to visit today. I sit beside her watching her breathe. Her breathing has slowed now, and I look at her staring with that gut-wrenching, heart-sinking feeling wondering when the next breath will come, worried it was her last, will she breathe?..................she breathes, thank God. 

She was too tired to get her shower and didn't even want the nurse and I to clean her wounds today. Some friends came to visit too, they were touching her and talking to her for quite awhile and she did not acknowledge them. As they prepared their rosary's and to read the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, they said to her "Kristine, we would like to pray with you now". She nodded her head and profoundly said "okay". I can't explain how I felt in that moment, other than emotional, my eyes swelled with tears and I looked at her loving every inch of her and being so thankful for that moment. I could feel the peace enter her body.

I added that photo I found to my night stand today. She's beside Nana now and I can imagine her actually being beside Nana soon, smiling and looking over me from heaven and from my night stand. I am so blessed to have known and to have been raised by these beautiful women.

I went yesterday to the funeral home and finalized all of her arrangements. I thought it would be easier now than once she is gone. It's funny how some things happen and you can just tell it is meant to be. I was looking through prayers and I asked "what if I want to pick a different scripture or write a custom prayer", they told me that would be fine. Then I found the perfect prayer and I didn't need to look any longer - Come To Me it was called - perfect.. I walked over to the vaults and there was a beautiful baby pink one, I said "that's the one". "Are you sure" he said, "absolutely". 

I no longer pray for a miracle, I pray for peace and comfort. 

Goodbye, I love you.

Yesterday was the start of a new journey. I began removing things from my Mom's house.

After her last hospital stay it was apparent that she needed 24 hour care. Private, in-home care was not an option for us financially and putting her in a Nursing Home wasn't exactly desirable for any of us, so we made the choice to move her in with me. On the same day,we also decided that we needed to lower the price of her house. Her house had been for sale for about a year and a half and we really hadn't had much action. Luckily, it sold right away after lowering the price, and now we have a month to empty it before the new buyers move in. I remember when we were building our house, we would visit it everyday, and I would go up to my bedroom and run around, I was beyond excited, and my Mom - well, she was building her dream home. Putting this house up for sale was probably the hardest thing she had ever done. She had to swallow her pride and move on from one of the things that she felt was her biggest accomplishment. 

Going through a loved ones things after they pass is really hard, but going through their things when they're still living has proven to be even tougher. What a conundrum it is to divide her things as if she is gone when she is sitting right here beside me, but lets be real, this entire situation has proven to be tough. 

As I was going through things yesterday, I stumbled on this photo of my Mom and Dad and I wished that I could remember them together. They looked so happy, so full of life.

Then it hit me, it's hard for me to remember when my Mom was happy. It's hard to remember her before the pain, before the cancer. I kept looking through photos, most of them I remembered or had looked at recently. Then I found a photo of my Mom and I on the day of High School Graduation. My Mom did not like to have her picture taken, she still doesn't, so we do not have many, and I didn't remember having this photo. I was so excited that I would have this to cherish forever, to remember how proud of me she was on that day, but also how sad she was that I was moving away to college. She was always my toughest critic but she is more proud of me than I could ever dream of her being, and I am happy to know that when she leaves this earth that I did the best that I could and for her that was enough. I am happy that I was able to experience years of happiness with her and happy to spend years when finding something to be happy about was one of the toughest challenges of the day. When her oncologist told her that there was no more treatment for her, and it was time to focus on being home and being comfortable, we weren't expecting that news that day. I had brought my youngest daughter Willow with us, and doc looked at us and said, "I have never had to share such sad news with such joy in the room, and I know that it is this joy that has kept you fighting this long. You never should have seen this Christmas he said, and look at you now." I know now that I have to tell her how much she means to me, how much she has done for me and our family, and how much I love her. I know now that I have to let go so that she can too, and I know it is going to be the hardest thing that I have ever done.