It was two years ago this weekend that this final chapter in mom’s life began.
When Mom was first diagnosed, she made me promise that she wouldn’t die in a hospital. She had terrible memories of her mom dying, and it had turned into a kind of phobia with her. It was easy to make the promise; Mom actually dying was a long way off. I mean, we could cross that bridge when we came to it, right?
Sometimes the planets align, and things seem to work out the way they were meant to be. Mom was already living at my sister’s when her health really started to decline. We had a great general practitioner treating her, and Palliative Homecare was helping Mom manage at home. We could not have managed without them.
Her final days were spent surrounded by her seven kids. She laughed and joked with us, and we all took strength from each other. I believe that we did right by Mom, and I am so thankful that I could honour her request. It turned out to be an amazing gift, not just for me, but for my brothers and sisters, too.
We are closer because of what she shared, and because we saw each other in a way we’d never imagined. My sisters-in-law became so much more than my brothers’ wives; they became my mother’s daughters, and I will never forget the love and kindness they showed Mom.
