Watching your mom die

Slowly the secretions are filling her mouth as her pulse slightly fades

A tear trickles jaggedly down septuagenarian face crevices.

First a drop, then a drop, then the faintest stream.

Breath inconsistently consistent for days

Position, disposition, unchanged 31 hours

Sub-Acute Stroke, a tiny smudge on an MRI, destroyed my mom

Unable to conjugate CO2, brain under attack

Thinking, thinking, no thinking, no, don’t know

No food, no water, no meds, no movement, 72 hours

Breathing, just breath

And a heart that won’t stop beating.

Unstoppable heart.

beeps, buzzing, motorized transports, chatter, laughing, rubber souled shoes on shiny vinyl tile

A needle

Pain management, comfort care pathway

A doctor shrugging shoulders

Her smile and knowing look relegated to memory

And memories…flood

Her energy and brilliance, dimmed…but only in the physical sense, because her star continues to shine in the thousands of souls she has touched, and improved (BTW)

The sun sets, a soul rises, music is playing somewhere, and it’s better because she was here.

2 Replies to “Watching your mom die”

  1. I remember your mom, wonderful woman. I lost my mom recently, similar thing. It’s tough. It’s been forever since our prom, but I remember your mom and you. Take care.

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