Reblogging my post from a year ago. This is the first anniversary of our mother’s passing, and a difficult year it was. You are always in my heart, Mom x
Last month was my mother’s birthday. She turned 75.
For the first time in her seventy-five years, our dear mother wasn’t able to eat any birthday cake. She is bedridden, in and out of consciousness on morphine, and dying. There is every reason to expect – and actually, dare I say, hope – that this is the year of her last birthday, and that her painful battle with Alzheimer’s disease will finally be over.
Mom has taken a turn this past week, a turn that plants her squarely in the final stage of this heartbreaking disease. She can no longer swallow even liquid food, so we know the end is near.
I can hardly think of anything or anyone else right now. I dread what lies ahead, even though I said above that I hope this, her last trial, will soon be at its end.
Here is a poem I…
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