Her Last Day

I don’t know why I want to remember this. I just know that I do. And if I don’t write it down soon, I won’t even have the choice. I didn’t get there until about three, as was my usual routine. It was a Sunday. I had gone to church, had lunch...

On Grief

I have to keep refocusing.  I want to slip into the grief the world knows.  The permanent good-bye.  The self-pity so deep it sucks you in and suffocates. Yes, I miss her.  And parts of my life will be worse because she is no longer in it.  She was a resource of...

Normalcy Protects Me; Routine Keeps Me Safe

Now that we’re back in Indiana, August 22 through November 22 seems less than a bad dream.  Her sickness, her fading, her last day, her visitation, her funeral, her name on that crypt.  Was that real?  Was that her?  Will she really not be there the next time we...

She’s Gone

My mom went home to Jesus last Sunday. November 14, 2010, 11:00pm. I wish I could say she went peacefully. But she was such a fighter. The last several hours were filled with seizures and stress and anguish. We begged her to just let go. When she finally found her...

The Best Day

I don’t remember the last thing I told you.  Did I tell you her anti-anxiety meds make her less than coherent?  You could tell the thoughts were there, but they couldn’t make the connections in her brain to become the right words.  For example, she’d...