i’m afraid i’m becoming an insomniac.

i’m sitting in mom’s recliner in her living room listening to her breathe… i’m almost afraid to sleep only to find she’s gone when i wake up.  it’s a very scary feeling.  i’m very very anxious.  this is hard you guys.  much harder than i thought it would be.

i’m watching her go – right in front of my eyes and it’s so incredibly surreal.  her breaths are becoming increasingly taxing and i can tell it’s getting harder as the hours go by.  every now and again there is a short pause followed by a deep gasping breath…  it’s really happening.

mama bear and i had some visitors this evening and it was such a welcome break from the grind of watching this all play out.  lee and kelly (the biker dude who took mom out on her last ride and his very lovely wifey who is my new bff <3) stopped by and visited.  when they got here i tried to prep them a little bit with the usual, “mom is pretty incoherent.  please don’t take it personal if she doesn’t recognize you.  she says some really off the wall things and talks to people we can’t see.  she may or not open her eyes, blah, blah, blah.”

and then – in walk kelly and lee (decked out in his leathers) into mom’s room and instantly mom gets this HUGE smile across her face and says, “haaaayyy leeeeee!”  are you kidding me?!?  she sat up in bed and started to swing her legs around as if she was going to get on up and collect some love.  i had to put the brakes on though – because i accidentally dropped her when i was giving her a shower earlier because she is SO unsteady on her feet now and i just couldn’t risk the fall.  but – sure nuff’.  she perked right up for them as she and lee talked about the ride and how awesome it was.  lee brought this awesome awesome biker prayer and read it to mom and we all teared up a little bit.  it was a very tender moment.

i couldn’t believe how she just perked right up and talked as if it was any other day in any other situation.  it was so much fun.  that sparkle was there… even if only for a couple minutes.

then, when mom pretty much fell asleep on them mid sentence they came in the living room and we visited about what it was like growing up with my mama as my mama.  it was so much fun to talk about the good ole’ days.  it made my heart smile.  i told them things i haven’t thought about in years.  stuff about dad, stuff about harleys, stuff about what it was like before we came to montana.  it was great.  thanks for coming you guys – i adore you both so so SO much.  <3

mom’s morphine pump is in full swing now.  they stuck the needle in her belly because she’s picking at stuff.  he clothes, the bed, her arms.  she’s also hallucinating that things are in her hand when really, they aren’t.  she’s still seeing things and talking to people whom maybe are there – but i surely can’t see them.

i’ve been praying over her all night.  i’m praying for mercy.  i’m praying that god will send my dad and toby son down to get her and bring her home.  i’m praying for peace and comfort in my own heart.  i’m praying that i can fill the enormous void that her death will inevitably leave in my kids’ lives.  in my own life.  my mama is dying and there isn’t a thing i can do about it.  my heart is so sad.

i’m also very VERY sad to report mom had a seizure tonight.  the med tech came in to dose out her lactulose and she started shaking.  it was mild – but still very scary.  i. did. not. like. it.  (sidenote – i was thinking and praying for you and your family tonight annie – you are so amazing.  my heart pours out to you and jules.  <3).  the nurse was paged and came up immediately and explained that seizures in someone who’s liver is failing is a very common sign that her body is shutting down.  i started to cry.  i just stood there – fighting back tears – trying so hard to be strong.  i mean – i know that’s what’s happening but i really keep expecting her to rally and be ok.  because that’s what she does.  EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  but she’s not.  she’s declining… and quickly.

i keep laying next to her in bed in the mindset that she has the flu and will get better.  but she won’t – she isn’t.  and i’m not sure how i’m handling it now that it’s just the two of us here.  her dying, me watching.  it’s very hard.  the highgate and hospice nurses and care partners are taking good care of me.  they bring me meals 3 times a day and check in to see how i am.  i plaster this big stupid smile on my face and tell them i’m ok… but it’s only because that big ball of i’m about ready to cry is in my throat trying so desperately to bust out so i can blow snot all over their clean dark blue highgate logo-ed shirts.  you know what i’m talking about… when your throat burns so bad and tears well up in your eyes.

it’s just so much.  i can’t believe it’s happening.  i know i’m like a broken record – but it’s so surreal.  i’m not even 30 – my kids are babies – and she’s on her way out.

she’s really half here half gone now.  her heart is still fighting her body to stay alive.  but – the morphine is building and she’s sleeping more and more.  she needs it though – without that morphine she lays around moaning and in very obvious pain.  but – at the end of the day – i’m still having to make some very hard decisions.  my choices were to let her lay in bed in pain or give her the pain meds she needs to be comfortable.  well – comfortable probably isn’t the best word – pain free?  better?  i don’t know… anyway – i’ve chosen the latter.  and the loopyness is the side effect.  i haven’t been able to have a coherent conversation since last night in the middle of the night.  looks like that was the last one.  and it was about a morphine pump and whether or not she’s pooped enough.  fail.  ugh.

alright – i’m rambling.  i’m just… sad.  anxious.

keep praying.

until tomorrow,

*m