“Mom, did you just tell me to f%^k off?”
She nodded yes.
I’m sitting with my mom in her room and all of a sudden, she pulled off her covers and started moving her legs to get out of bed. She wanted to use the bathroom and wanted to walk to it. I calmly reminded her that she hasn’t been out of bed in several months and she could just go ahead, and let nature take its course.
She told me to stop telling her what to do and that she is “still in charge.” Literally, she is until the end. I summoned my dad and together, we settled her down.
“When is her next round of morphine?” I asked him.
This story is so “my mom.” Still telling me what to do. I saw a glimpse of my grandfather George in her – feisty, tough, and yet, so loveable.
She pulled down the sheet and I can see her – still! – perfectly manicured toes.
That’s also my mom.
Throughout this experience, I’ve been her beautician – taking off her polish on her fingers – cutting her nails. Just today she mumbled and pointed at her fingers, and I knew – the edges of her nails needed to be filed.
TBH the nurses told us 2-5 days yesterday. Who knows? As my dad said, mom’s in charge.
“For 46 years, Dad!” I responded.
He looked at me. I said, “Ok, clearly longer but I’ve only been here for that long”
My mother is, by far, the strongest person I’ve ever known.
We’re all together now as a family – just waiting on Ted to arrive tomorrow. I haven’t been responding to texts or emails because it’s too draining. Just know we know you’re thinking of us.