On Being Weary

My sister Gail is coming to be with me for this final leg of the journey and today I know how timely her presence will be.  She wants to be with me as we say goodbye to Mom and I've struggled to say when that should be.  I mean, how can I predict?  I can't, but on Saturday morning (while praying about what to tell her) I had a strong sense from God that the time was right.  I actually got the image of Aaron holding up the arms of Moses and so I asked her to come.  She's coming on Thursday.

Today reaffirmed that decision due to the exhaustion I feel.  After the big holiday week with doctor's appointments for both girls, family visitors and the usual holiday traditions, I thought I'd be wiped out on Monday but it was actually a pretty productive day.  Ben got his braces off, I got more Christmas boxes unpacked and both the hospice aid and nurse came to visit.  Mom got a nice bath, and I talked over her care with the nurse.  I also cooked another turkey since we gobbled up all of the Thanksgiving one (pun intended). 

Today was a different story.  Mom was very agitated and I had a hard time getting her calmed down.  The usual pills were not working and I'm really having a hard time understanding her.  She tries to talk but it either doesn't make sense or is too quiet for me to catch.  She no longer wants her depends on and that can be a sign of coming to the end.  I'm also having a hard time getting her to take her pills and I'm having to weigh the costs of not giving her the ones we've limited her to.  Water is also a challenge as she so easily chokes and the mouth sponges don't seem to satisfy her.  All the more reason that I'm glad we've ordered her a hospital bed.  That is scheduled to be delivered on Friday but I might ask them to bring it earlier.  I talked with her about dying and was trying to encourage her with what is ahead.  That only made her cry and she didn't stop until Dad came in and started begging her to stay.  I think that's what she wants from me - to tell her that I don't want her to go.  I can't, in good conscience, say that.  I want her to leave this suffering and be whole again.  I'm worn out from trying to keep her comfortable and having her moan when I change her and change her bedding.  It has been a long gradual decline and I've been saying goodbye to the Mom I knew for so many months.  I will grieve when she goes but I'll also be glad for her and relieved.  This evening it hit me like a ton of bricks, that this very situation would have been the kind of thing I'd have called her to talk over and get advice on.  I'd have shared, honestly, about how hard this is and how I really want to do the right thing.  And she'd know just what to say.  Well that Mom has been gone for over two years and yet I've not been able to grieve her because she's still here - in body and in snippets of her personality (just not the ones I've admired) but rather the fearful and anxious parts.  She's still dear and sweet and we've had wonderful moments of tenderness but she's often demanding and self-centered (a common characteristic of the terminally ill.)  So I see that I'm tired from the journey thus far and am grateful for the providential gift of my sweet, smart and very capable sister.  Just in the nick of time.