My mom fell really ill and died on February 23rd 2015. Seeing her suffer in hospice even though I knew she was dying, nevertheless hurt to watch. I spent one night holding her bloated hand, alternating with my brother hurt, especially since he tossed an insult at me in the process.
Mom could be stubborn at times, refusing medical care and going to the hospital. The very last time I took her to the grocery store, she slumped over in falling asleep in her riding cart. She was a strong woman but stubborn and I'm the same way.....stubborn.
Anyhow she hadn't even been in hospice a whole 24 hours when she died. My sister-n-law had taken me home. When I got a phone call around 3:00 in the afternoon. It was my brother telling me she had passed away. Two emotions kicked in: numbness and grief. I weeped but it was nothing like it would be weeks later.
So I'm moving on with life. Sometimes the tears will come when seeing something sparks a memory. Our time at the Piccadilly cafeteria after church was a ritual for us. My taking her to the library and my using her card as well to get books. Going to the grocery store with her.
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