(The post below was written on March 6, 2020. My mom passed on April 4, 2020.)
When I pulled up to my mom’s house yesterday, I thought to myself, “This sucks.”
I would give anything to walk in there and see her standing in the kitchen.
I would give anything to walk in there and have her greet me with a big hug.
I would give anything to walk in there and hear her say, “Hi, sweetheart! How are you?”
I would give anything to walk in there and even just see her sitting in her chair in the family room.
But instead when I walk in there, I walk through to the front living room and see her lying in a hospital bed.
Sometimes she doesn’t even wake up when I walk in.
Sometimes she does.
Sometimes she doesn’t respond when I say “hi.”
Sometimes she tries to say “hi” back, but it doesn’t quite come out.
Sometimes it makes me sad.
Sometimes I just feel numb.
This is our current normal.
But no matter what, I will always show up for her because I know she knows I’m there.
I know she hears me. I know she feels my presence and my love.
And above all, I know the day will come when I will walk in there and not see her at all.
Not standing in the kitchen.
Not sitting in her chair.
Not lying in a hospital bed.
I will have to go somewhere else to visit her.
Please hear this:
Whatever you are going through today, it will only get harder. Things will only get worse. One day you will be begging to have today back. This disease sucks. Every single stage sucks. But it goes by so fast. The days are long, but the years are short. Make the most of what you have when you can. Be fully in it. Because one day, you’re going to miss this.
I tell myself that every day.