My sister and brother have stepped up to the plate admirably with my mother. They care for her tenderly--my brother has even lost his squeamishness about taking her to the toilet. He jokes with her that they are dancing, rather than lurching together across the room, and when she steadies herself on furniture or doorframes, he admonishes her for doing the leading. My sister spent the night with mom the other evening, holding hands with her through the still hours. Every now and again, they'd wake up at the same time and say hello. At 3 a.m., my mom wanted to get up, and afterwards as she sat on the bed to rest, my sister asked if she wanted to lie back down. "No," Mom said. "I'm ready to go." "Go where?" My sister asked. "To the Big Guy in the sky," Mom replied. "As much as I love you kids, this is just too hard. Do you know anyone who can come and give me a ride?" Lisa sat down with her and gave her a long hug.
It's a relief, in a way, to know my mom is OK about going. I wouldn't want her to be afraid or resistant, because that'd just make it more difficult and more than anything I want her passage to be peaceful.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment