The last time I saw my mother

About 2 months ago, I left my comatose mother in a hospice room and she died 4 days later.

The night before, I had slept on a couch next to her bed, waking every time I heard her move or thought she needed something.

The day prior, I had combed her hair as much as I could.

The day before that, I tried to give her water, with no luck.

When I left, I was feeling like the worst and the best son at the same time. But I was burnt out, conflicted and scared.

A nurse was kind and brave enough to tell me leaving was a mistake. Her honesty was comforting and refreshing.

But I decided to leave after a doctor told me “if she wanted you here for this she would’ve chosen to live near you “ -more refreshing truth. He could also see that I was spent.

I thought about all I had done for her the past year and especially the last 7 days.

I thought about what she would do and want me to do.

As a nurse, she never really thought it was productive to sit by peoples bedside if they couldn’t communicate..so I finally, painfully, decided to go.

I cleaned up and organized her hospice bedroom and collected my things.

Starting to cry, I leaned forward and wrapped her cold, thinned hand in mine. I paused to regain my composure and speaking loudly and clearly I squeezed her hand and said “I will see you again.”

Originally published at https://www.vanshea.com on July 20, 2024.