In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Ravages of Time

I spend a lot of time at my mother's house. She's not completely unable to take care of herself, but she can't be alone all the time. After a TIA late last Spring, the entire family wondered for awhile if she was gone forever. She was incoherent, very weak and we shared staying with her in the hospital.

She has a pacemaker, which prevents a knee surgery she needs, but she doesn't let this overwhelm her thoughts. Her short term memory isn't like it should be, but she manages. She's worked her way back to doing her daily bridge and word games in the paper. Her small circle of friends still play bridge one day each week and she insists on watching her favorite show, "Wheel of Fortune" every evening. These things are part of her regiment to use her mind and not allow the ravages of age to take away her ability to think.

I've sat many times and thought of the near future. I wonder how it will be when she passes. I hope it's quietly in her sleep and she never has to spend any more time in the hospital. When she was there before, her daily request was to go home. I think she wants her final time on Earth to be where she is comfortable and surrounded by those she loves.

So I wait. She might live for decades or for the night. I'll never know until it happens. Until then, I'll do what I can and hope her remaning time is with dignity and without suffering. I see her trepidation in enduring what's left and know she is fearful of things that she never feared before. It's hard to see and maybe, if God wills it, I'll be there at her last moments to see her off.


  1. My husband and I sat by his mom's bedside in her home for two weeks as she succumbed to the ravages of cancer. Hospice was there every day, and never were there more beautiful angels.

    A hospital is no damn place to die. May she be blessed to be at home. It makes the end somehow...easier.

  2. I've thought of my own demise. My hope is that it's on a beautiful Autumn afternoon and I'm sitting outside with the cool breeze on my face.

  3. Jess, I think I want to die (not for a very long time) the exact same way as you.

  4. Some things are inevitable and beyond our control; I suppose all anyone can really do is cherish our blessings, making the most of our time while we have it, and hope for dignity in the end. I wish this for you and your loved ones.