Don't Leave Me Mama

Mom, Nori, Neva and Ronnie were all hanging out at mom's house. Mom was out in the yard playing with the girls. They were sitting in mom's driveway looking for pretty rocks to put in their pockets to give to me later. Mom knows I never find those things until they are in my washer, but it never fails, they will dig in the rocks every time....Mom chased the girls around the house to the swing set, where they argued over who she was going to push. Mom carried on a conversation with them like they were her friends. I know that is why they love her so. Ronnie came walking out the back door and said he was headed to the store. Mom reminded him to get his checkbook. She told him to grab chocolate, Cheetos and candy for the kids. Maybe a little supper too, but not necessarily. Mom looked up and said "Nori, No! No!" because she was following behind Ronnie as he headed to his truck. She was a bit close to the road for comfort. "You have to hold hands!" She said. Nori grabbed Ronnie's hand and he led her to Gammy's loving arms. Mom picked her up and squeezed her tight. Then, with Nori on one hip and Neva holding on to her free hand they all headed inside to set up their pallet for the night. It was going to be great.
At least, that is what I ASSUME happened. That is what I picture happening.

In reality, I sat in the chair and cried as my mom laid on the couch sleeping. As usual, she talked in her sleep.  She mumbled some words that I could make out. "No, no, nori!", "Ronnie's checkbook", "You have to hold hands!" As she spoke, a confused Nori walked up to her several times. She got right in mom's exhausted face and whispered "I wub you Gammy. Pwease wake up". Neva sat to the side staring at her. She seems mad at her, or scared of her.  I can't tell. It just hurts to see her so stand-offish toward someone she adores. I know she is worried about her, because I sometimes catch her rubbing mom's feet or head and she seems lost in thought. To cheer myself up, I tried to see mom's dream. I am pretty sure I got it right. She is happy in her dream. She is the old mom. She is with her grand kids. She is healthy. She is beautiful.

Last week wasn't great for her condition, but she did babysit the girls for me while I was in the hospital. She was well enough to do that. This week? Well, things have definitely taken a turn for the worst. It happened in a split second. Like flipping a switch. I didn't realize it could happen that fast, and I find myself completely unprepared. At first, we thought it was the medicine. So, we attempted to cut back. Unfortunately, she was in so much pain-we couldn't do that. I even phoned the clinic. Not Hospice, but mom's old cancer clinic. They told me exactly what Hospice already had. We have to choose between: mom hurting horribly and being awake, and mom being groggy, sleeping alot--but in less pain. It is a harder choice than you might think. I miss her so much I am physically sick to my stomach. When she wakes up, which is only a few minutes at a time, I try and tell her everything the girls have done or said. I try to fit all of our usual conversation into a 5 minute window. When she falls asleep as I am speaking, I cry into my hands. I want her back so badly.

Yesterday, I had to bathe my mom. It wasn't as bad as you might think. It wasn't as bad as I thought, anyway. The worst part was seeing her body. It was reminiscent of a skeleton with skin on it. My once plump and healthy mom has resorted to skin and bones. As I washed her, my hands rubbed over sharp bones protruding from her body. I wondered how she could find a comfortable position at all.

When she speaks, it is usually slurred and may or may not make sense. I worry that I have had my last coherent conversation with my mom. She is my best friend. I am lost without her. I am so alone. I still have so much to say to her, but I fear she won't really hear it now. I am a wreck. My demeanor has sent Neva on a horrible behavior spree, and poor Nori has regressed in her potty training. Yesterday, they went into mom's room. When I realized they were "missing", I went in there to look for them. They had piled up several pillows on mom as she slept. They said they were "helping her". They just don't understand. Neither do I.

Between yesterday and today, mom has had a ton of visitors. Amber told me that Mom asked "did everyone hear that I was dying or something?". Maybe she really wondered, or perhaps that is one of her inappropriate jokes.... that is so typical of the old mama. Either way, she knows something is up.

Yesterday, while crying on the phone with the hospice nurse, I asked (unsure if I was ready for the answer) "how does this usually play out?" She reluctantly explained to me that most of the time, patients start declining (as mom is doing), then they go to sleep. A coma-like sleep. Sometimes it is a couple of days, sometimes as long as a week, and then they pass. I appreciated her honesty. But as she spoke, I floated outside my body. I looked back at the tear stained face of a stranger. I felt sorry for her. It can't be me. I would never be having this conversation. Especially not about my mama. Bless her heart. She is losing her mom. I will pray for her.

I am hanging in there. Surprisingly, though I have spoken of my numerous tears, I have been so strong. I really have. Not the most patient and attentive mom, but still strong. I have found myself consoling my brothers the last couple of days. Ronnie is a little more in touch with his emotions than Josh. Josh had his first breakdown yesterday. The first one, that I know of, since mom got sick. It makes me feel so wonderful to be able to do this. I want to be there for them. We know we have to stick together through this, and so far so good. Mama would be so proud. SHE made us this way.

She still wakes up some, and we get bits and pieces of her here and there. She sometimes doesn't recognize the kids, or remember their names, but she DOES open those beautiful green eyes and that is enough for me.

I am hurting so much that I can't put it into words, yet I feel completely numb. I miss her. When I see her I want to squeeze her, but we have to be so gentle with her little body. I am so ripped up inside. As I type tonight, I do not find the same comfort or release that my writing usually brings me. Perhaps because this is the first blog post that my mom won't read. She loved reading my thoughts, even when they were dark. I still text her every night, though I know she isn't reading them anymore. Lots of "I love you's" and "I miss you's"...But the last one I sent was simple "Mama don't leave me". I cried as I typed it. I hoped for a response, a reassuring one. But it never came.

My mom is dying. God help me.