I left My Mom last night sobbing my little head off. She was slouched to the side in her wheel chair, barely responsive, a little crumbly mess. She looked hopeless. I felt beyond helpless. I don't even know how I navigated the one block drive. I woke up this morning and cried some more while I packed for a business trip. I stopped by the home on my way to the airport and kissed and hugged her as if it were for the last time. When I said "I love you," she mumbled "thank you." More often than not that's been her response lately. Sometimes she still says "I love you too." On those days there's complete recognition of who I am and what we've been through. There's undoubted sincerity in the sentiment. She knows it's me and not one of the caregivers she's come to rely on for daily activities.
I held it together during the short visit, then cried all the way to the airport, sat like a zombie on the plane and then sobbed and wailed for an hour in the privacy of my hotel room where it dawned on me -- that probably was the last time I would see her.
Our physician always called me the ESP Caregiver. I'd take My Mom in for an appointment and say "something's not right." He'd always ask me to be more specific with symptoms, I'd tell him I just know it's a urinary tract infection. I could tell by her personality. Sure enough, I'd be right. It took only a couple of visits before he and his nursing staff began to trust my gut instincts. It took three tries to find a suitable, caring doctor for My Mom, we found a gem in Dr. Langdon and his staff.
I wished like anything I could call him this time, but I knew there was nothing he could do. My gut instinct told me there was nothing I could do either. There were others waiting to help her this time. As I lay exhausted in the hotel room, I had a clear vision of My Dad and all of My Mom's sisters anxiously waiting to greet her in heaven. It was a heart warming sight, yet heart wrenching all at the same time.
We've had the most amazing 3 1/2 years together. Late in life bonding I wish every Mother-Daughter could embrace. They are truly the best years of my life. I have no regrets.
I see the love on the faces of those waiting for her, I know it's for the best, yet I wonder if I'll be able to let go...