Mom is still hanging on. No one quite knows how or why. I am constantly being asked if there is something that needs closure for her: is there someone from whom she needs to hear; some significant date looming in the distance. How am I supposed to read my mother's mind? I have no idea why she is clinging so tightly to the life that she wanted so desperately to leave. So I cling to the imagery that the hospice nurse provided: we are now in God's waiting room.
The last time Mom ate or drank anything was 10 days ago. The last time she spoke or opened her eyes was 8 days ago. That person lying in the bed is no longer my mother, she is just a corpse who continues to have a pulse and every once in while gasp for air. I was told 12 days ago that the end was "eminent". I was told a week ago that any breath could be her last. I was called out of school on Wednesday because "it could be any minute and she is just hanging on for you to come." And yet...she still continues to hang on. I was told that she will probably not make it through this weekend, but I am sure you can understand why I don't hold much faith in those words.
It occurred to me one day this week as I was taking my daily walk - that nature mirrors my own life. My mother continues to hang on - much like the withered leaf that clings to the branch. New growth is starting to bud and perhaps that old leaf wants to ensure that the next generation will continue before it is willing to fall to the ground. As it stands now - I have a number of significant milestones to experience - all within about a month of each other. I will become an orphan - a grandmother - and the matriarch of the family. That is a lot of changes to learn to accept in a very short amount of time. I'm not quite sure where I fit in this nature metaphor. My mother is the withered leaf - my granddaughter is the new bud. I suppose that makes me the mighty oak? Not quite the responsibility I bargained for.
My father went without food or water for 8 days and he wasn't conscious during that time. It was horrible to witness, so I know what you're going through. I'll continue to pray for you and your family.
ReplyDeleteMolly, we are with you from afar. Life and death are such mysteries.
ReplyDeleteMolly, I think you are the mighty oak. I am so sorry about all the pain you and your family are going through. I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers.
ReplyDeleteMy heart goes out to you! I will be thinking of you often and praying for you! And I have to agree -- you are one mighty oak!
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about you this week, Molly, and wondering how things were going. Both my parents lingered for a time without nourishment or water. I do understand how hard this is. Your Mom will go when it is the right time for her and there's no way of knowing when that will be. When she makes her peace with God.
ReplyDeleteHugs to you...and I'll continuing praying for you and her and all of you.
I lost my mom last summer, it totally blindsided me. I am now the matriarch of my family and grandma of two. Nobody asks for these things,it is just part of life. I wish you lots of well wishes.
ReplyDeletejbdownie5@yahoo.com
Yes, Molly, you are the mighty oak. My heart goes out to you and your family right now; it must be so difficult. Sending you love and prayers and a big cyber hug.
ReplyDeleteWords seem shallow now but they are all I have to offer. The waiting is hard, I have walked your road. May you find comfort in the hopes of this new granddaughter. Your parent's legacy and yours will go on...may you find peace in the days ahead.
ReplyDeleteThis post brings tears to my eyes. Hang in there.
ReplyDeleteYour metaphor is heart-wrenchingly apt, Molly. You are the mighty oak. Strong, strong, strong. Hang on. Peace to you...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Molly. I hope I can remember your strength when it is my mother's turn.
ReplyDeleteJust with people telling you "any minute", it has to be nerve-wracking. Each person goes in their own time, and who knows the reason? You are entering a new stage in your life, but I know you will grasp and embrace it and be the tallest, strongest mighty oak your family has ever seen. I'm praying for you and your family Molly.
ReplyDeleteMany, many hugs to you Molly - this must be so hard. =/ I have been thinking of you and will continue to do so.
ReplyDeleteOh, Molly... my heart goes out to you. The prayers continue....
ReplyDeleteWhen you know that something is imminent and the pain of the waiting is so long it can often be worse than the release. I am so sorry to hear about your mother. My thoughts are with you and your family. xxx
ReplyDeleteGod Bless you. She'll leave when you're ready. Keep the faith.
ReplyDeleteOh, lovely oak:) Am planning to post about my connection to trees today, so very cool to see this here today.
ReplyDeleteI don't mean to be critical, but I think I need to leave a note for God that his waiting room is terribly uncomfortable. Perhaps a window or two? And better magazines...
I do think that nature is a wonder metaphor for our lives (I highly recommend a book which made my top reads of 2010: Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature by Kathleen Dean - which I found immensely comforting at a time I needed it). It sounds like you are going through an emotionally draining time in your life, Molly - and I hope that you are finding slices of time for just you. Thinking of you...*hugs*
ReplyDeleteOh dear Molly---I have been thinking of you and praying for you. The waiting must be so very hard and my prayer this weekend is that waiting comes to an end. Hugs to you, dear one.
ReplyDeleteKim
Perhaps she is waiting to hear aboutnthe new generation being born? I hope for your sake and for hers that she finds peace soon.hang in there...and you are plenty strong to deal with all of this and more.
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