A Lot to Process

The past week has been a whirlwind of activity and emotion. I've shared here previously that my mom has battled cancer over the past year. The battle is coming to its conclusion. We learned this past Friday that is was time to begin hospice care. It's a prudent move. The focus has to be on the quality of life for whatever time there is left.

I live about three hours away from my parents, so there has been a lot of travel through this. I am not complaining. We are a strong family, and I am beyond grateful. At the beginning, my father said, plainly: "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you this (the diagnosis), but this is a fight and we're in it for the long haul." He set the tone and we all have known what we needed to do and when.

Dad and Mom have been married for 50 years. This has been terribly hard on him. But he is here for her and for us. His strength gives us strength.

I was back up there today for a funeral arrangement conference. The time has not yet come, as of this writing, but this is one more instance of my dad thinking ahead. He said he simply didn't want to be in crisis mode when the time does arrive, especially with all of the choices that had to be made. I couldn't agree more, and I wish more people would think this way. In fact, I was about to suggest we start to work out some of the arrangement details and Dad was already on it. My sister and aunt and uncle were also there. The funeral director was just amazing. Attentive to detail and compassionate... not at all pushy. We have a plan. 

On one level, my mind still can't reconcile that we are actually experiencing and doing all this. But it is reality, and we must confront it head on, of course. 

I saw my mom at Hospice today. She is quite frail and didn't seem to be very alert. My aunt told her I had come to visit. I believe she can still hear, but she didn't react. When the time came for me to begin the drive home to my wife and son, I said something like, "I have to go, Mom, but I'll see you again."

In situations like these, I will not say "goodbye." It is, in fact, "I'll see you later."

The drive back was tough at times. I stopped for a break to refuel the car and to get a soda. (The soda, while not so healthy, is one of my coping mechanisms. Some soda and I load up the cup with ice. I'll sip the soda and chew the ice.... something to do and to help stay awake.) I had an intermittent pressure in my chest. No heart trouble here. Just a physical sign of stress and sadness. I was thinking about everything I had seen and heard today. 

There really are no good words for any of this. Sometimes it is helpful to jot it down. But I'll find more to say another time. And so it goes...