A little bit less than happy
My mom got a phone call today. From the husband of her best friend. Her best friend who's like an aunt to us. She's been fighting cancer for a while now, but they caught it so late, there was very little they could do.
A week or so ago, she was brought home. She would not be going back to the hospital, but not in the good way.
Today, my mom was told my aunt has a few days left.
A few years ago, we lost my grandma, my mom's mom, to cancer. She fought very hard, and lasted a long time. About a year after that, we lost my grandpa, my mom's dad, of what I think of as a broken heart, despite what they may call it. Last year, we lost my dad's mom, my last living grandparent. She was the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful old lady, and she loved us all dearly. It was her time, and she knew it. She asked for the doctors not to try to revive her if she passed on. I have to drive past the little side street that her building was on, and remember while I think that I should stop by and visit, that she isn't there any more.
In a few days, we'll get a call. Next year, my mom will have to go to a funeral.
I wish there was something I could do for her, more than just be there, and hold her hand (which I couldn't even do tonight, as I'd scratched my hands while helping to put up the christmas tree, and they sting quite badly).
A week or so ago, she was brought home. She would not be going back to the hospital, but not in the good way.
Today, my mom was told my aunt has a few days left.
A few years ago, we lost my grandma, my mom's mom, to cancer. She fought very hard, and lasted a long time. About a year after that, we lost my grandpa, my mom's dad, of what I think of as a broken heart, despite what they may call it. Last year, we lost my dad's mom, my last living grandparent. She was the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful old lady, and she loved us all dearly. It was her time, and she knew it. She asked for the doctors not to try to revive her if she passed on. I have to drive past the little side street that her building was on, and remember while I think that I should stop by and visit, that she isn't there any more.
In a few days, we'll get a call. Next year, my mom will have to go to a funeral.
I wish there was something I could do for her, more than just be there, and hold her hand (which I couldn't even do tonight, as I'd scratched my hands while helping to put up the christmas tree, and they sting quite badly).