So much that we fear or dread is more a mind-game than anything else. Yet it sure feels real at the time. The unfamiliar is a demon we don't care to know at least for most little kids and old folks. So true for Mom. But after a basket of fresh hot rolls were brought to the table and our salads served, Mom started to calm down and relax. We enjoyed a delicious lunch and chatted amicably.
Until the ride home. Once in the car, Mom piped up with something my sister and I shuddered to hear, as she said, "Yeah, time is closing in on me." Out of the blue. Just like that. My sister retorted, "Mom, I know, it's sad. But, that's life. For all of us." Pause. Heavy heart. Then Mom said, "Well, sometimes you welcome the end. Look at my quality of life. I can't walk, can't hear, can't see very well. Sometimes death is welcome, because then I'll finally be at peace."
Such conversation at 3:00 on a sunny autumn afternoon was not what I wanted to hear. Yet, it sounded all too familiar to me, and I quietly said to my sister, I know exactly what Mom means, as that's how it was for Suzy at the end. "The end" being the past year and "the even worse end" being the last 6 weeks of her life.
Then there was "the tail end" when she stopped eating 5 days before she died and stopped drinking 2 days prior, although I'd tried, with every ounce of energy, to get her to drink and even scooped little mouthfuls of water into her mouth with my cupped, and hopeful, hands. But, it was not to be. On the last day of her life, the vet then, I, felt her gums. Bone dry. Like Mom, her quality of life had become worse than her quest for living. So she surrendered to peace.
In the end, so shall we all.
No comments:
Post a Comment