"Mom"

 7.22.25 

On my morning run, I saw several friends. Two, with separate groups, gave me a hug. Ironically, these two do not quite see eye-to-eye on tough, political, cultural issues. It made me feel like some sort of bridge.

I called Gilchrist around 6:50am to talk to the night nurse before the shift change. She told me that they administered an enema overnight and it helped. Mom appeared to be relieved. when the nurse went in around 3am to give her dose of Dilaudid, her eyes opened and she made some sounds, including what she thought was "Mom."

They nurse said to her, "yes, you can go be with your mom when you're ready."

My first thought was I hope this is what she would want to see - her mom. Despite her traumatic childhood involving enemas, she did love her mom. As a "people please," my mom never wanted confrontation. My grandmother definitely had signs of depression and rightfully so with all she had been through and had to deal with through the Depression, WWII, alcoholism, her accident due to the neighbor's lawn mower, and having a long life with limited freedom of getting around. She lived simply, as did my mom.

They both read and wrote and crocheted and didn't believe in material things brining you the most joy. It was time.

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