Day 4

 This morning, when our day started, it soon became evident that today would be different from the previous few days.  It was going to be a long day.

Our Hospice nurse had previously mentioned to us that mom's room was too quiet, and suggested having some music playing for her.  Today, I found a playlist on Spotify that I knew mom would like (Thank you, Carrie Underwood for your "My Savior" album, providing the selection of hymns that we grew up on),  and I left my phone plugged in by her bed. I won't need it today.

Her breathing has been shallow today (what that awful "blue book" likened to as "a fish out of water").  Once you see the comparison, it's not something you will ever forget.  She was awake all day, so I spent the majority of the day sitting with her, holding her hand, talking to her...letting her know that we would be okay, but reminding her that she had 3 grand babies in heaven she could now go be a grandma to.

Both of us were with mom that afternoon, and she was still hanging on.  Finally we decided we'd let her rest.  I'd sat with her all day, my brother ever since getting home from work.  

Even sitting here in the living room, with the tv on, I can still here her shallow breathing while she sleeps in the next room. We've kept the same plan - he's taking the late night dose of Morphine, I'm taking the early morning.