I kind of wish we had talked more, and yet I accepted that there was this level of deep love and acceptance and support for one another.
Nearing the End
Stories of the last days and end of life.
I feel fortunate that we did talk about some of the things, enough of the things that I wasn't flailing and not knowing what direction to go.
It was as beautiful as one could hope, to be in our own home. It was a pretty amazing journey.
I wanted to reassure Jack that his dad had died but he did not choose to die. It was not something he wanted to have happen.
What I needed was for the house to be full of people who loved Amy and who Amy loved, which is how our home was, how our family life was.
What else could I have done? What if I had been there? Now I know that that they did the best they could and that I did the best I could.
He asked me whether he was dying, and he had never asked me that before. I knew what would give him comfort. And I said no, you're not.
It's not like the movies. You can't make every moment profound. It's a lot of the small moments that take on greater meaning later that you don't even realize.
Hospice can be done in hospital. Being alone with Mike at home, maybe there's something I should be doing but the hospice nurse is not here. It was a scary prospect.
When I brought that up to him that they would really like us to sign an advance directive he just looked at me and said, "You think I'm gonna die." And that stopped me cold.
Mom's dignity was the most important. Her ability to be involved in the decision was key. Her ability to come to terms within her own process was key.
Your overtaken by grief. I'm gonna lose this person that I love. Trying to talk about practicalities and the emotional pieces of dying and your wishes - having these conversations is so hard.