Party of Five

This morning, I opened my eyes and reached for my phone - it was 4:30am.   The reality of the silence around me hit me immediately.  I had fallen asleep last night hearing her struggle to breathe in her bedroom, and this morning there was only silence in the house. I love you Mom.

 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 wit

We're taking shifts.  My brother stays up for her last dose of morphine late at night, I get up for the early pre-dawn dose.  Seeing mom as a mere shell of herself is hard, especially by the bathroom light. Whether in the late nights or early morning, it doesn't usually phase her to give the medicine in her mouth while she sleeps.  Instinct takes over, and she swallows it without a problem. This morning was different, however, and it took us an hour to get her back to being comfortable and sleeping.  She calls out for her brother, Dan, or her sister, Marilyn - they're her safe people in her memory. Hospice has still been coming around each day for a visit, checking on her, explaining to us what we might expect in the upcoming days - explaining that all of the little things we're noticing are all "normal".  They have also provided us with what has been constantly referred to as "the blue book". It's a small book, maybe 10 pages - things to look fo

Hospice people are an amazing group of people.  That much I know.   Mom is not in any pain, but she's also not very aware either - but there are moments. She knows I'm here.   I'm praying over her and talking with her every time I'm in the room with her.  Sometimes I can only say the name of Jesus while I lay hands on her disheveled short white hair and hold her tiny hand.   She smiled in her sleep after her brother in Oklahoma talked to her on speaker phone. She opened her eyes and said her other brother's name when he came to visit.  Those little moments are beautiful to see.  I had a dream last night that I was in this house, I turned around to see my mom upright and walking, not in a nightgown, but jeans and a sweater, and looking her very best with every hair in its perfect place, and her eyebrows drawn on perfectly.  I don't ever want to forget how amazing she looked standing tall again at her 4'11" self without a walker and without pain, and smil

 4:37am I woke up naturally, no alarm, picked up my phone to see that it is a terribly early 4:37am; 23 minutes before my regular alarm is set to go off to awaken me for work. Suddenly I remember that I'm not going to work that day. I'm going home. 6:09am I texted my brother to let him know that even though I had hoped to leave earlier, I should still arrive by noon.  7:00am The smell of coffee is filling my car.  I don't drink coffee.  I realized it was just a skunk in the area, so that's how random my thoughts were as I was driving.  Or maybe that's how much I really don't like coffee. 10:00am My Inner Self gave me a reminder while I was driving. This is the last time you'll make the drive to visit your mom. Thanks a lot for pointing out the obvious, Self. 11:43am One last bathroom stop on this never-ending drive; stopped at a Taco Bell.  The employee behind the counter smiled at me and said "Have a great day!" as I was walking out. That's an

89 days    left to serve as an officer with my local PTA unit.   42 days   left to serve as I finish my work with New York State PTA. (Give me a minute.  That was just as hard to write, as it was to say when I began to tell my PTA friends that I would not be returning next year.  For the record - PTA friends are some of the BEST friends you will ever have!!) Let's be real - THIS IS GOING TO FEEL WEIRD - I've been PTA-involved since my very first meeting when I volunteered to be a committee chair, and yes, I still believe in the mission of PTA.   I will still pay my membership dues, and I will continue to be involved, just in a smaller capacity at the region level.  PTA Leaders get into this and do what we do for one reason.  It is because of our kids - they're our  #PTAWhy .  All of the committees, events, meetings with school leaders, and local, state, and federal legislators...every single one of them that I was honored to be a part of and to serve.  It was all because o

It  has been a rough week for many of us who lost a friend this past week. But last night I heard Jim’s   own words on an old podcast, when he was talking about a  terrible loss in his own life.  So today I am reconciling that Jim has finished the work God created him to do and he has been called home to heaven.     There are soooo many people, very literally, all over this world that he introduced Jesus to over his entire lifetime, and so many of us still here who were challenged and changed by the example he lived.      A personal story - Our oldest son's middle name was given in honor of Jim, because of the impact and relationship he had with our family and most importantly, with my husband.   We spent a weekend with them in Indianapolis when Derek was still just a baby.   Jim was determined that he could make me a cup of coffee that I would like.  It was a mocha something-something...that still tasted like coffee.  On our recent family trip to Florida we were blessed to be able