Random

I went to see my Mom today. Her disease is progressing, as we knew it would.

She is on liquid morphine for her pain. I'm glad she's not in pain. But she is sleepy now. She drifts in and out of sleep mid-sentence. She tells me she is drifting seamlessly from reality to dream, incorporating the last conversation into her dream, then back to reality in a matter of minutes.

I didn't need to talk to her today. I just wanted to be near her. I wanted to sit in the same room as her and just feel her physically near me. Soon I won't be able to do that. I laid in bed with her and told her every little thought that rolled through my mind. I talked about everything, but actually said nothing. Sometimes she followed the conversation, sometimes she told me things like "We really need to find the Elmer's glue and the paintbrushes to give the kids." I shudder to think what the children would do with Elmer's glue and paintbrushes.

As she drifted into sleep again I wished I had a camera. My Mom is so beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm she looked. How peaceful she much have felt. I wanted to hold that moment, that beauty, that love and suspend it in reality forever so she would never leave.

A few minutes later she woke up and was talking to me. I was sitting all curled up on her bed and she suddenly said she wished she had a camera so she could take a picture of me sitting on her bed. She then tried to tell me all the things you tell someone you think you might not get to talk to again, but it is hard to find the words. And she doesn't need words. I already know. I feel the same way.

There are no words.

I never wanted to leave her bed. I wanted to lay there forever with her and be her little girl, and love her, and bathe in her radiance and beauty. I found comfort in her sage green room. Soon she won't be there anymore.

I hate cancer.