Our LPN Margie came to visit as did our neighbor Barbara, another LPN. Margie said she cried on the way. Both were so helpful. This is so heartbreaking. There is no age—I think—at which it is easy to lose a parent. Particularly one who was so loving. A pain in the butt, but loving. I probably will never carry a sweater in the summer, but I will think of mom when I leave without one. And I won’t always wear my shoes out onto the porch, but I will think of mom when I go out there barefoot. And I will remember her favorite flower: the huge violet-colored dahlia.

My brother John and I sat for a while and talked with mom. My cousin Karen called twice and with tears told mom she loved her. Rob, of course, spent time with mom. He held her hand and sent his messages wordlessly. We are all blessed to spend any time with mom at the end.

My urge is to pick up the phone and call mom, but then I remember she is here with me—in a sense. There will be no talking to mom or being with her anymore. And I won’t hear her tell me how pretty my blouse is or how she likes the color or hear her ask where I bought it, or tell me how pretty she thinks I am. My mom is leaving me, and I am having a tough time of it.

More later…