If we had talked on Saturday, I would have told you that my mother wasn’t going to be on this earth much longer. She slept all day. She drank less than 10 ounces of liquid and her urine output was minimal. I was prepared for the next stage or at least as much as I could be.
Yesterday, she was lucid. Got out of bed and walked which she hasn’t been able to do for over a week. She ate and starting offering helpful “suggestions” on how we can make our lives better. WTAF?? I have read about these end of life rallies and how they are unpredictable and odd. Her little rally got her a golden ticket out of the hospital today and left her daughters scrambling to get everything in place so she is supported at home. I feel like I have whiplash.
I want a plan, but I was reminded that there is no plan and I need to simply go minute-to-minute. Today, I am coordinating with a team of people to get her settle. I am not delusional to believe that she is miraculously healed. No, I realize that this is just all part of her transition, but because I am swimming in discomfort, a plan would have me feel more in control.
I might have thrown a bit of a tantrum yesterday. In true transparency, I am tired. She’s tired. We are all tired. And while I need to trust that my Higher Power has everything under control, I might be questioning his timeline.
All I can do is show up, do the next right thing and be in acceptance that not having a plan allows me to be open for something better. At least that is what I keep telling myself.
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