I’m at one of our regional hospitals, on the 18th floor, my daughter asleep next to me, listening to my mother breath, Though her breathing rattling and labored, she is comfortable, hands and face relaxed, her body not fighting. She had a ‘huge hemorrhagic stroke at some point yesterday, probably after dinner,
A care staff member found her on her bathroom floor with a head wound, EMS was called, and then I was called. Within 10-minutes they Let me know she was being transported, and there were signs of stroke. I was out the door 10 minutes after that.
The ER doc called me in another 10-minutes to confirm that it was a huge stroke. She came and sat with me for a while after my arrival. Listened while I shared who my mom had been. Told me, which I knew, that there was no treating this. To try to do so, for my mother, would be an unkindness, a prolonging of her death.
My DH and youngest daughter came last night to sit with mom. They sang her songs she loved. Told her stories, and reminisced. My eldest sent words to her grandma by way of her sister. They were wonderful, meaningful, were full of their love, and the sassy and irreverent relationship they had
Mom is still hanging out with us. I’ve asked for a Rabbi. I don’t know the words, or if there are any words, but as my mom would have said, “It wouldn’t hoit!”