By Chandrama Anderson
Waiting on the Edge of DeathUploaded: Jan 29, 2015
All week I've been trying to write for you, readers. Instead I find myself pacing around, waiting, knowing these are the last few days of Mom's life. I went to see her yesterday, and she did not know who I was, even though she knew on Saturday. I sat on the bed next to her and read Mary Oliver poems to her, as she had asked for when she was still in her right mind.
I am seeing clients (and that's good focused time on them and their issues), researching the brain and couples topics, writing in my journal, reading, talking to friends and family, hospice, the caregiver agency, working out in the pool, paying bills, being with my dog and cat . . . and waiting.
My husband and I are spending quality time together, talking about Mom, and also about other topics, such as the books we're reading, children, taking walks, getting in the hot tub.
We are keenly aware that sometime we will be in this waiting while one or the other of us is on our death bed. We want to make the most of each moment. It is bittersweet.
My brothers-in-law are here. We eat, we talk, we support each other. Their wives are coming soon. Mom's partner is steadfast and sad.
Mom's father came to guide her a few nights ago: she woke up and called, "Papa, hi!" and later waved her arms in a Japanese dance style. I am comforted knowing her Papa who adored her is there with her.