On Mortality

My mother is dying.

She is only 64, and I am not ready for her to die.

Am I being selfish? The last few years have been filled with pain for her. She isn't dying from cancer, but from an accident. An accident that resulted from a fall she took after a knee replacement, and then from a fall she took a week later in the hospital...she seemed to be doing so well. She was participating in physical therapy. We had her in the care of a wound treatment doctor. She showed no signs; presented no symptoms of the pneumonia that is killing her now. No fever, no cough, no nothing.

To say that we are shocked by the diagnosis is an understatement.

Her history is thus: for a couple of years now, her knee has been giving her problems, so she has gotten sedentary as a result. Thus she has gotten obese. On 12/20/10 she had her knee replaced. On 12/28 she was back in hospital with an infection in the knee. On 1/1 she was sent home. A few days later, when she was alone, she fell in a freak accident and the incision burst open. She crawled to the phone and got help, since her alert necklace didn't work.

Emergency surgery repaired the leg. One week later, in the hospital, she fell again. The incision ruptured again, and after surgery we were told that another fall would cost her the leg.

30 days later she went home. Then this past Sunday she was back in the ER with shortness of breath. She was diagnosed with phenomena and put on a ventilator.
They can't take her off of it, as she cannot take enough breaths to sustain life. I am not a doctor, but even I know that the longer one is intubated, the harder it is to get off of it. Her pulmonologist has said it's not a question of when she will get off of the machine, but IF she can get off. If she can't get off, she will need long term care, on a vent, and she will never consent to that. So her death will be either by suffocation or morphine.

I am not ready for my mother to die.

I know that we are mortal, but these last few months have really made me realize the mortality of my mom and dad. I used to think of them as always there. That one day they would see their granddaughters married. In the back of my mind, I knew that there would come a time when I would have to take care of them...I just didn't expect it to be so damn soon.

And I find myself in a sort of limbo. I have children who love their grand-ma, children whom I haven't told the news. My oldest turns 16 tomorrow, and I want to put it off till after her party and quite honestly I'm scared to death about telling my youngest. She is extraordinarily close to mom. I'm not sure how she will cope with this. Hell, I'm not sure how I am coping with all of this!

I feel caught. Caught between emotions; I know that I need to deal with my children and their emotions, I need to deal with my emotions, I have to be there for my daddy. How do I take care of everyone and take care of myself?

How do I face my mother when we tell her the options she has? How do I accept the decision I know she will make? Will I be brave enough to be with her at the end?

How do I live my life without the best mother a woman could ever ask for, faults and all, in my life?

Why do I accept the premise of either God will take her home, or heal her, with such ease? I pray for a miracle, but I still plan for the worst. Does that make me a sinner? Unfaithful? Or does that make me practical and realistic?

I just want my mother to be out of pain. I would prefer her to live, but what if God's plan is to bring her home? Will my and is my anger righteous?

I cannot imagine a life without her. My mother has been there for me in ways I cannot even begin to enumerate. I wouldn't be where I am without her.

The fact that these are likely her last days is like a poisonous thought to me, but I must also face the reality that my parents are indeed mortal.

It is a hard thought, a hard idea to bear...but it is also, in its own way, another lesson on life; given by a parent. It is also a chance to serve her the way she has served me.

As scary and sad as this all is, I am also honored that I have this privilege...and saddened too.

It is indescribable.