My husband flew to Texas in October and spent several weeks taking care of his very sick mom. Hospice nurses said she probably had two weeks to live, but she outlived that prediction, only to die three days after he returned home. She died just two hours short of her eighty-third birthday.
She died from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. Cigarettes lose their glamour when you can’t breathe, despite the oxygen tube snaking into your nose.
I never lived near her, so we weren’t as close as we might have been had we lived in the same town. She was an elegant and generous woman, tiny and always adorned with gold necklaces and rings. She liked to take care of people and loved her kids and grandkids so much.
We will miss her.
My husband will fly back to Houston tomorrow and be there until Saturday. In his absence, I resume the trick of delivering and picking up kids without forgetting anyone anywhere, all while working my job and figuring out what to cook for dinner.
And my dog would appreciate it if I would remember to buy her more dog food tomorrow. And my son needs snow-pants by Friday for the school play. And my daughter needs a birthday gift for her friend for the slumber party on Friday.
I better start a list.