This post won't show up on my computer no matter what I do, though I think it works on other computers.
Mom 1
My mother died almost a week ago. Until last year, I thought she would live to a hundred or so. One day she would call and leave messages for everyone saying goodbye, and that would be it.
She did have some control over the situation. As soon as she realized it was really bad she left. As always she had a strong intention (to live, to get well then to travel and …), but she wasn’t attached to the results.
She said she wasn’t afraid of dying, and I think for the most part that was true. Believing she wasn’t afraid put herself and those around her at ease and created a positive environment. But in those two days before she passed when she was not in her “right mind” (I don’t believe there is a term for it, at least they didn’t have one at the hospital- “disoriented” was their understated choice, “pre-coma” was ours.) she cried like a little hurt animal, devoid of ego, whenever a nurse touched her.
She is full of blessings. Her house is full of treasures.
My mind races. I think about moving furniture and what to do with all these objects and how to rent parts of the house. I’m not sleeping much. I tend to do a lot of tape measuring in the early hours of the morning. This I guess is my way of grieving. ?
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