It’s another year.
And I am trying to be optimistic about 2013 — optimism is not my strong suit — mostly because, at this point (knock on wood…… the gods can be very cruel), the worst thing that could happen is that she finally passes away………………….
She must be close. She can’t walk. She can’t talk. She yells. When she’s not yelling, she sleeps.
I’ve been thinking more about death and dying. What will it be like when she sips her last breath? Will I feel her soul leave her body? Will she die in her sleep? If she dies in her sleep, will something wake me up? Will I feel her departure? Or, will her organs slowly shut down? When will I finally hear the words, “she’s actively dying?”
My lovely yoga teacher Lea suggested I read The Tibetan Book of the Dead. It’s not what you think. This isn’t some exercise in the macabre. I just want to be ready. To use Lea’s words, I want to “hold the space” when that time comes. I want to be with my mom when she’s “actively dying.” I want to hold the space. I want to help guide her on her journey to wherever she goes.
(She is a saint and, no doubt, will live in paradise)
I want to make her passing as peaceful as possible.
For her.
For me.
And then my life will start over again.
Who am I without My Demented Mom?
There’s a lot to contemplate in 2013.
My Demented Mom 
What a beautiful way of expressing your concerns and your wishes. Thank you.
Who are we when a part of our life, that appears to have consumed us, is removed from our every day existence? We begin a new life, honoring those who brought us to our new road, and acknowledging our service to those whose lives we made richer, however small it may appear. While possibly completing a karmic debt, those of us who are caregivers, honor our loved ones by staying by their side, through all of it, and sharing with others our journey.
Thank you for your note! It’s nice to hear from you.