Our first week in Hospice was like a slumber party for Mom. She actually said “This is great! When is the last time the three of us all spent this much time together?” She still felt well-enough with all her palliative meds and gourmet meals provided by Faith Presbyterian Hospice to “enjoy” the time.
She couldn’t get out of the bed to see the beautiful pond, water fountain, ducks, turtles, or walking paths from her private balcony, so we took pictures and videos to share with her the best we could.
She ate truffles a friend brought her, watched as Sarah and I tended for her gifted-flowers, told us every story she could think of from her life, had massage therapy, and napped.
Even as her health began declining more each day, she cherished every moment with us. Her visits from church family and her nieces and brother-in-law, grandchildren, and great nieces and nephews brought her such intense joy. Her lucid moments became less as her pain and discomfort increased, yet she held on with all the strength she could muster.
I never thought some of my fondest memories of Mom would take place just weeks before her passing, but there were so many beautiful moments packed in our last two weeks together that it did end up being just as mom described it. It was like a vacation for the three of us. One we wouldn’t have chosen, but one that ended up being a gift. Like a rose with its thorns, it was filled with perilous parts that caused pain, but I would not, could not, have chosen a more precious gift for my mom or for my sister or for me.