Mascara and concealer already streaming away and it's not even 9am. Everyday things seem mundane...trying to read, words drift untethered. No longer caring about how big the Kardashian rump has grown (did I ever care?). Music seems too peppy, inappropriate. Food, unappetizing. Tim drives me to the hospital and I'm anxious to see what shape she'll be in today. I find her resting peacefully. She can hear us but not always respond...any recognition is a sweet treat now.
I'm alone with her and deliver hugs and kisses from far-away family. Filling the room with spiritual songs and one of her funeral picks starts to play...I Can Only Imagine by Mercy Me.
"I can only imagine what it will be like when I walk by your side. I can only imagine what my eyes will see when your face is before me, I can only imagine. Surrounded by your Glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still? Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall? Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all? I can only imagine. "
They've agreed to move her to the Paliative Care Suite...end of days. A quick move down the hall, it offers her a hotel-like setting, monitoring for pain only. Spacious for family and friends to visit. She'll stay where she's nurtured, loved on, safe, comfortable until those last breaths. A busy housekeeper, I have her all settled into her new room, placing hygiene items in the bathroom, drain supplies tucked discretely in a drawer. I hang my coat on the only hanger...having to place mom's fleece jacket over mine. So symbolic.
Lots of visitors today...she has touched so many lives. I greet, smile, hug, interpret, update. She is so beautiful. Her hair began growing back a silvery white..like Jamie Lee Curtis. Her thin skin bruised with the slightest touch...she has one on her left inner arm that is shaped like a heart. Jaundice drying her skin, she begins to itch and I massage her arms with lotion. She appears asleep, yet she holds her arm up for me to work. Taking extra time on her soft sweet hands. Thinking she's asleep, yet she doesn't miss a single word...chiming in on pieces of conversations from across the room. Calling you out if you are whispering about her. She burps and says 'excuse me'...always a lady.
I asked her how she carried on after her parents passed...her eyes closed, long pause, she pursed her lips and said, " You just do the best you can". I don't ever want to forget that advice.
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