Stealing Away

Mother died peacefully this afternoon.  She closed her eyes and slipped away gently.  We will miss her more than words can tell, but the love we have shared will continue with us always.

Her journey in this life is over.  Love you so much, Mother.

Ebb Tide

Mother is in a downward spiral.  Sometimes, when she has a few good days in a row, I think maybe I am mistaken.  Maybe it isn't that bad.  It is.  The doctor confirms it.  Her behaviors verify it.  She is in the last stage of Alzheimer's disease.  It is ugly and will get uglier.

Today she sat in her wheelchair barely able to lift her head.  A weak smile tugged at the right corner of her mouth, but that was all she could manage.  I fed her two M&Ms, but she couldn't chew very well, and the chocolate drooled out of her mouth.  Even the most basic pleasure of eating candy is almost beyond her.

What is left?  Why does life go one when there is only sitting and drooling?  Because when I hug her and tell her I love her, she moans back at me.  I look into her eyes and say, "You love me too, don't you."  She moans her response.  I hold her close and stroke her hair and there is love between us.  Not a slow death, not chocolate drool,  not a contracted and half paralyzed body can take away the love.  That still is, and for now, that is enough.