Holding space

In this phase of my life, I find myself a space holder. It’s a sacred job, one many don’t really think about much. Until you require a space holder. Or someone you love does. Holding space for someone you love means that you are solid and impermeable, even as they get buffeted by the winds of…

On soup and sanity

They would not stop talking about the soup. When my mother went into hospice, I had to leave for my home hundreds of miles away that very same night. So, for the first week or two of her stay, I was not able to visit her. Oddly enough, a few of my older sisters seemed…

Befores and Afters: Conclusion

When you return to your mother at the hospice, she is visibly changed. You are with her on one of her worst days; the whole day she is grabbing at her clothes and you, trying to get out of bed, frantic to go, not at all lucid. On your last visit, you were able to…

Befores and Afters: Part III

Written after my mother died, this post and the two prior are about the experience, honoring a promise I made to Mom to write abour our journey so others will know they’re not alone. You walk in just as the priest is about to give last rites. Your sister moves over to let you hold your…

Befores and Afters: Part II

As she begins to die, your mother tells you not to let them find her wandering the halls naked. This breaks your heart because she knows her doctor did find her naked, having fallen trying to get out of bed, several nights before. She’s now to the point where she knows that her lucidity sometimes fades,…

Befores and Afters

My mother died two years ago, almost to the day. It’s time to begin to tell that story, which will probably take several posts. I hope my sharing helps some of you going through similar experiences. The death of a parent changes you in a can’t-go-back kind of way. It changes you whether you let…