Several have come in the last two days to visit Mom and to be with the family . . . the pastor of Robin's church [Crown Pointe Church] came on Thursday, the pastor of my church [Broadway Church] came on Friday morning, and the chaplain of the Hospice came Friday afternoon. We are grateful for the love that has been shown to us and for our faith that was passed down to us from Mom.
She continued to rest peacefully throughout the day. In the evening, she became a little bit agitated. Just as we decided it was time to get a bite of supper at the cafeteria, Mom grimaced and moaned just a little. The nurse gave her a little bit of morphine to ease the pain and she became restful again.
After we ate, we came back and continued making plans for the memorial service that we had been planning throughout the day. We decided whom we needed to contact. We looked through pictures. We read and gathered poems that Mom had written.
The angst of just doing the things that need to be done helps to pass the time. The emotions are flooding. You make phone call after phone call to be sure family members get to the right place at the right time. You become frustrated because someone did not answer the e-mail you sent. You hurry to do things for which there is plenty of time. And you find that you forgot to do some things already be done. At the end of each day, based on the best recommendations of the wonderful hospice staff who have experience, but who also know that sometimes their experience fails them, whether it is one more night that you can sleep at home or if someone should spend the night.
The time unfolds, as I said before, in such an unnatural manner. About a year ago, I recall Mom saying, "The years are just zipping by . . . but sometimes the days last forever." And that really sums up the last five days.
We did go home Friday night. And Susie's son and daughter re-arranged plans so they will be here on Saturday rather than right before Thanksgiving. They will be here from California and Texas and if everything goes the way we would like for it to go, all the grands and great grands will be able to say goodbye to Grandma.
Mom several times has gathered enough strength in the last few days to let out a huge yawn. Robin said once, "She's just saying this is boring. I just want to go see Jesus."
Mom's eighty-seventh birthday will be the day before Thanksgiving. As we reflect, plan, and sometimes just sit, we can know that those were eighty-seven years lived well.
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