Moms At Peace

Early this afternoon, Aunt Elise, Little Will, and I came to the hospital to relieve Jennifer from her night shift. I parked the car. Aunt Elise and the little one came in first. By the time I came in, Jennifer told me that mom's breathing had change. Became more rapid when she sensed people were in the room. Her eyes were open. I went to hold her hand. I read in the Hospice information that you should pay attention to all changes, even the slightest- especially the breath. When I held her hand and head to talk to her, her left eye started tearing up. Tears flowed from that one eye has I held and talked to her. We all told her how much we loved her.

While everyone sat to eat, I stayed holding her. Jenn was glad we were here to talk to her because she had a good half hour talking to mom earlier in the morning. I told her all of the things I could think that I wanted to tell. How I was so blessed to have her as a mother, how I loved her so much, how I feel honored to resemble her because she's so beautiful. I told her that I'm proud of her and that she is so strong. I wiped her tears. Told her that I saw them. Told her that I will always be her "Papaya". She used to call me that as a child. Then I got close to her and told her, "Mom, if you choose to go, we will understand. If you choose to say, we will understand that, too! We are following your lead. For the first time in your life, think of yourself and what you want. We will be fine. We love you."

After that, things change quickly. Her breathing started to even out. They became more shallow. Every inhale, I watched with passion. Waiting. I felt her last breath could come. When the breaths became fewer and farther between, I became anxious. I called Jennifer. As soon as Jennifer touched the bed, Mom took her last breath. The Three Musketeers. That's what she used to call us. We were all together.

We told the little one that MuMa's an angel now. He says, "But, she don't have her wings." We told him that she gets them later.