Day 12

I have come to hate one phrase more than I can accurately describe.

I know family and friends mean well.

But please, don't tell me to "take care of yourself."

My Mom provided for me and Aunt2Amara. She cared for us our entire lives.

So to take care of my Mom for a fraction of her life is no sacrifice.

I know realize what utter exhaustion feels like. My eyelids refuse to stay open yet my mind is awake, racing with thoughts of cancer and death. I can no longer remember phone numbers that were once ingrained in my brain.

But that is nothing compared to the pain my Mom is and has endured.

Since entering the hospice facility just over four days ago, my Mom's condition has deteriorated. She can no longer walk. Standing with assistance is a chore. Her one eye looks up to the ceiling, a result of the brain tumor. Her left hand and leg and nearly useless. The doctors have pumped my Mom full of methadone that some hours I no longer recognize the woman before me as my Mom. And sometimes, she does not recognize me.

So I understand the need for me to eat and sleep and rest.

But for now, I must take care of Mom.