To the confessional....
Dear reader:
Tuesday night and I've just got home a short while ago. It's been a long-long week since my last confession and I'm ready to get this over with so I can put it behind me and move on and unwind tonight.
My wife used to talk about driving a fast 45 MPH or a slow 45 MPH. But 45 is 45 right? I guess it's kind of like time. Twenty-four hours is twenty-four hours and yet some days seem like an eternity, and extrapolated a week of those kind of days are like, a week of eternities. My mother-in-law decided to stop dialysis recently and of course the result of that is that the body will finally shut down, death becomes imminent. Her decision has dictated much of the past ten days or so. My wife has been dutifully at here bedside some of every day. In many instances spending the night with her. I've watched her (my wife) attempt to find some degree of normalcy each day where there is nothing normal. I know this is far more difficult for her then myself, but I confess it's not easy to watch my wife go through this with her.
There have been several times that we thought, or someone would convinces us that it was her time. Her time has really been taking it's time. I got a call from her today at work and rushed home to run her out there. She had not planned to go out till tonight but they called from the care facility to tell us they though the family should come out. On of here brothers had been there all day and they had been in touch throughout the day.
Oh, and they said they were putting out refreshments for the family. Refreshments? Really? I confess this seems a little circus like.
We went out and were joined by other family members. Honestly she looked pretty good. Her breathing pace has slowed but she was not breathing labored. She is in a sleep. Some occasional facial expression changes though not many. She once sort of squinted open her eyes. Cathy ended up staying the night (as she had planned) but she and I agree, Mom is not looking like tonight is the night.
There are aspects of our life that seem on hold. Only because of the uncertainty of the end time. Each day is another possibility. I know Cathy hopes it is sooner then later. She has at times asked me to pray that it comes soon. I confess that I feel uneasy with such prayers.
In the meantime, death (a subject that clearly takes me outside my comfort zone) seems to dominate my day and night and I have no control over it.
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