Awhile back a wrote a bit about having my mom come home on hospice care. That was four months ago now, and rather than looking back and reflecting on what I was feeling then (I'll let you, the reader, do that) I'd like to tell you how things feel now to me.
I am tired all the time; tired, and grateful, and scared and mad and sad and crazy all the time. I cry because I do not want to go to the store. I want to sleep all the time, and I am scared to sleep all the time. I yell at my husband at least once a day. I pretend it is all his fault.
Good things happen every day. Mom went out in her wheelchair today. The five of us- Mom, Furly, two health aides and me- marched up and down the sidewalk, talking about the pretty flowers and how our neighbors were building a fence- like it was the most normal thing in the world- like it hadn't been months since she was outside before last week- like we just tool around all the time with her entourage and it's no big deal. We were like a little parade. It was very jovial. The health aides admitted they were glad to be out in the sun. They had just attended (another) funeral.
We are lucky. We have family that visits and helps. We have the best team of healthcare folks you could imagine. We have each other. There are many things we can learn right now. Every moment is full of possibilities. That goes for all of us- the living and the dying. Who is living that is not also dying? Just because you are "dying" doesn't mean you aren't also living.
Also, we never really talk about dying. We only ever say "What do you want to do NOW?" We are squeezing life out of days and weeks and even months. Sometimes I am tired though, and do not want my whole life to be about squeezing out Mom's life. I start to miss my own life, and in that same thought I feel guilty. And at the same time I feel proud because it is not so easy. And at the same time I feel honored that she trusts me.
I feel so many, many, things.
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