It’s almost 11pm. Dad and I both took sleeping pills in the hopes it gets us through the night. I came home and worked for about an hour to get my colleagues up to speed on an event I’m supposed to be running next week. I have a great turn out so it’s bittersweet that I likely won’t be there but I’m grateful for my work peeps to cover for me.
I’m back in mom’s bed and thinking about what life will look like without her. It’s not easy to imagine a world like that. You all know how close we are. But as I said to the neuropsychologist at the hospital earlier, while I have my faults, I’d like to think I’ve also inherited my mom’s people skills and some of my dad’s intellect (he’s still way smarter). I am honored to carry the torch.
She’s amazingly at peace. It’s inspirational, really. I am proud to call her my mom – now & always.
My nephew is arriving tonight from Colorado, and my sister-in-law’s folks will be here tomorrow. We’ll all be together, which is great.
Dad said he hopes friends understand that we’re surrounding mom with family now. She likely wants to go peacefully without a lot of rigamarole.
Dad, my brother and I discussed the next steps together in the meditation room at the hospital. We don’t want Dad to be alone so he may come & stay with me for a while. Or go to my brother’s. I told them I was worried about my depression and dad said he’ll be there for me. I couldn’t ask for more. Then we had a big group hug.
Mom, we love you always. 😘