I promised an update …. been fairly silent on FB... I still struggle with this medium and yet it can be such an aide. If Paige can find her way, so can I. :) I write this as I sit beside my mother, early morning, still dark outside. She is getting some oxygen to help smooth the breathing. Sunday morning, Sept 21, she was amazingly alert and responsive... even more than before. So many of her facial expressions and responses were there. So present. Paige took a little video of Frances and I shampooing mothers head -- they provided a warmed-up and sudsy shower cap and we gently massaged/shampooed her head.... and gently brushed her hair. We know how she loves that. (I want one of those when my time comes.) Later Sunday afternoon, she was in a great deal of discomfort, so we began being more consistent with the pain meds, increasing the dose, and the oxygen nose-tube offered. She began fading more from us… retreating. Now she is in a holding pattern … no change now since Sunday evening. It is Tuesday morning. I just helped with the sponge bath. So so tiny. No response about anything, except when we put balm on her lips, she does what she would usually do - lips together to spread it around…. she’s still in there. I talk to her and stroke her just as though she can hear and understand. They say that is true of someone at this stage, so I tell her she is on the home-stretch, that the day for which she has yearned for so long is almost here, that she is surrounded by love, and that we are ready to let her go…. it is more than okay to leave. We have definitely rounded a final bend in the path of dying ... if dying and death is a labyrinth of sorts, it feels like we have almost come to the center -- sometimes in the center of a labyrinth there is a bench where one can sit and rest before meandering out. From where I am/we are now, the moment of death will feel like the center of the labyrinth. Time to pause and rest, suspend time. I will be looking for the bench. Here, where my mother has lived for over 10 years, there is a bedside tradition they started about some years ago. When someone at Menno Haven dies, they sound a gentle chime over the intercom and announce the persons name and room number, inviting a gathering of staff, family and friends to share a few moments of reflection and encouragement. The chaplain comes, and offers a bedside service of commendation and prayer, providing an opportunity for all those who cared for and loved the resident to gather together to say goodbye, to comfort, to support and to say thank you. A special yellow cover with three butterflies signifying the joyful freeing of the soul is used to cover the body, and later to cover the empty bed.” I like the sound of this. Bertha’s chime is coming. The freeing butterflies are close.
Posted on: Tue, 23 Sep 2014 13:12:38 +0000
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