There Is Where it Gets Real, the Beginning of the End

  Many people have brought up the word "strength" lately. I don't often view myself as "strong", I am just "surviving". Strength isn't a word I would even have on a "top five" personality trait list for myself. Strength is one of the top words that could be used to describe my mother though, without a doubt. Even in the last few days of her life, she managed to smile. I took this photo, just a day or so before she passed away. Even in my mothers last few days, she never lost who she was. She was a mother, a grandmother, a sister, a friend. Her heart was pure and genuine.

  It's hard for me to share details of her death. Just thinking about it makes me get that really uncomfortable lump in my throat (or all out break down...although, I try to not allow myself to go there completely, because I am afraid I'll never stop), if you are human, you know exactly what I am talking about.

  In the few days of mayhem preparing for Brody's baptism, I KNEW something was really wrong with my Mom. Her eyes and skin started turning yellow and she was exhausted and disoriented. She always tried to put on a front, like she was feeling just fine. On the day of Brody's baptism, she was right there..at the church and tried to make it to most of the party. I could just see it in her eyes, she wasn't feeling well at all. I could ALWAYS see it in her eyes, just like I could with my grandmother.

  After family left, and things had returned to normal, she finally let me take her to the doctor. I remember taking her that day...like it was just yesterday. She was so out of it. The doctors asked me if maybe she had taken double of her medicine. It was kind of interesting...now that I know what was happening, they KNEW what was wrong with her...anyone with a medical background would know. Her liver was shutting down. They sent us immediately to a doctor that specializes in issues with the liver. He told me there was nothing he could do, at best she had two weeks.

What?!?! Two weeks?! How is that possible? How did this happen? Can't I give her part of my liver?! I had so many questions. I wasn't ready to accept this. She fought through everything else, why couldn't we fight this?

 The chemo had caused an allergic reaction, and ultimately poisoned her liver...it was shutting down. They sent us home with a referral for hospice, to start immediately that evening. When the hospice lady showed up, my Mom finally stared "waking up" a bit. As we were signing papers, she looked at me and asked if this was it. I had to tell my own mother that she wasn't going to live much longer. I had to tell my mother, a fighter, a woman with courage and strength that she was dying and there was nothing more she could do to fight.

  This was the beginning of the end. These were some of the last days I would ever have with my Mom, my best friend, my "person".