mum

- as seen from my parents house. Not this visit (new moon at the moment) - a previous visit. And not quite as it looked to me in fact - but this is what my camera saw.


I've been spending more time with my mum, who is beginning to slip away from us.

She dozes off constantly, anywhere and everywhere. She opens a letter, but falls asleep before managing to extract the contents. She eats her child-size portion of soup with effort, napping between mouthfuls - and sometimes its uncertain if the spoon will ever reach her mouth.

(yesterday evening she asked for smaller cutlery.... the usual cutlery is "too heavy")

At the worst times she's confused, incoherent, uncertain, reaching a point where she shouldn't be left alone - and may wander around looking for reassurance if she is. And then suddenly, she's in the kitchen putting dishes away. Before sitting and dozing off again. Its so strange, and surreal almost, sometimes makes us smile, sort of. Except that now, she's increasingly likely to be anxious and restless, which is so hard to see.

Her pain control has been pretty good up to now, thankfully. Although she rarely uses the word "pain". Its "discomfort" at most, and not usually acknowledged much, but theres this thing she does with her mouth which gives it away. Her "tell" I suppose.
Its my family's way, the archetypal British `mustn't-grumble`. Today she told me she was "feeling pretty rotten" - a rare admission, and needing - I imagine- to be multiplied by 20 or so, in a kind of symmetry to the way I divide by about 20 most of my daughter's claims to being in pain.

LG's pain threshold, actually, is increasing I think, with the onset of quite severe period pains. Experiencing the same in my teenage gave me a high pain threshold, I always thought. Stretched by pneumonia about 15 years ago. And then heightened waaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy beyond that by childbirth. But even with that extreme pain, its possible - feasible - to relax and breath through it and know it will pass.

This constant pain in my chest just now, with no physical cause, is much harder to deal with.

Another blogger coping with a death wrote last year about living with a dying loved one being like living in a parallel universe. I'm good (too good?) at getting on with the day-to-day and finding things to be positive about, and there is a lot in my life which gives me joy and where I can relax and find some peace. And my blog recently has been mostly everyday and mundane and maybe doesn't often reflect the other universe from which I sometimes feel I'm watching it all. I don't think (i hope) that thats dishonest. There is still comfort and laughter in life.

But then theres also this .....

.... which I want to be honest about too.


Mum has told me - and a couple of other people - that she's beginning to feel that maybe she is ready, wanting, to be in the hospice now. She hasn't told my father this because she knows he wants her at home. He will find that particular letting-go so hard.

But it feels as though the end may be in sight. And I think we all hope, for all our sakes, that it doesn't take too long.


Don't feel you have to comment, I know its hard sometimes to know what to say, isn't it? But i know that some of you have been through this. And that some of you care a lot. And it helps - itsn't it strange? but it does - to know that there are people listening out there.