Eight days ago, my mother died.  She was completely independent, living in the house my father built for them until she had a fall at age 92.  That fall produced fractures in her back that caused her to be in intensive care for 10 days over Christmas.  We moved her to my brother’s house where she could be in our care and where she would have lots of room, all on the first floor, that would greatly accommodate her recovery. She became proficient with a walker. She always wanted to go back home to the house my father built, to be independent again.  And that was her plan all along.  But in the end, that was not to be.

My brother, sister-in-law and I cared for her, never leaving her alone for a minute.  So at least one of us was with her for over 2 years and we had her wonderful presence for all that time.  I was mostly with her during the day.  Her ability to ambulate gradually diminished over time, but she was able to stand with assistance until a week or so before she died.

As she progressively got weaker, Hospice came into our lives providing all the things we needed to move her and make her comfortable.  She had a fantastic nurse who came to guide us through the experience.  She loved him.  And even in the last few weeks, she continued to be her wonderful, amazing self.  She had a terrific sense of humor, laughed at all my jokes and funny behaviors and listened to me just as she always had.  I read her many books and we watched “The Waltons”  on TV.  Otherwise, we just talked and enjoyed each other’s company.

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to be with her.  She was my rock all my life.  I was so blessed to have her and her boundless love.  And that is what makes my grief so much deeper.  I know that she is still within me.  But she will never hold me in her comforting embrace again.  This is the very worst thing because we were so physically affectionate.  The fact that I will never feel her healing touch again is so devastating!  I am trying to visualize it, because I know she will always be watching over me.  I will miss her touch for the rest of my life.  And I am so grateful that I had her for so long, because that was the greatest blessing of all.