It went quickly in Just in Case

The transition to bringing Mama to the nursing home went easier than expected, as far as Mama being upset. She really had no idea what we were talking about. Physically it was brutal. We couldn’t get her in the car. The nursing home brought their van out to get her, which is what we should have arranged from the beginning. They were instantly concerned with her accelerated heart rate and low blood pressure. (I now know that is from the dehydration) They didn’t even try a swallow test with her, because they could tell she wouldn’t pass it. They were able to get her to take a few spoons of thickened water (basically jello water, if you have never seen it). The next day they got her to eat a small serving of pudding. That made us all so happy. They were so kind to her, so many were coming in to see her, and to see us. Lots of hugs for Mama, and she slept through it all. On her 2nd day, a different hospice nurse came in that night when the nursing home called, because of her heart rate, and fever. He called and told me that she was in transition, meaning she was preparing to die. He felt like we were looking at 10 - 15 days. He was coming back the next day, so I went up to meet him. She had declined even more, and he dropped it to 5-8 days. He talked about what changes we would see over the coming days, prayed over Mama with us, and stressed that it wouldn’t be that night, her bp was back up to 110 over 80, and you don’t die with that blood pressure. That night (technically the next morning) at 2:30 the nursing home called. They had called in hospice, and Mama had gone down really far. She suggested we came in. Daddy and I went up, and my sister and niece met us. It was around 3 when we got there, because it took time for Daddy to get ready, and to make the long walk back to her room. For the next couple of hours, we sat and watched her. We talked to her some. We cried some. We told some stories. Some of the ladies came by to sit with us. One of the RNs used to work with Mama at the hospital, and took care of her the last time she was in. The hospice nurse had talked about the transition in breathing, ending with what he calls fish breathing. Her neck was doing the work for her to breathe. Eventually the breathing slowed down, until she was gone. They were so kind to us. They left us for a little while with her, then had us step out while they prepared her. They changed her into a new gown, brushed her hair, etc. Daddy and I sat with her for another hour, because he couldn’t take it any more. I said my good-byes, then left him to have time alone with her. They had done pre-planning years ago, both wanted to be cremated with no funeral/visitation.
It’s been strange. I haven’t cried. Not really. I tear up, but I just can’t let it go. Daddy has had some rough days. He wanted us to get the clothes out right away. I know waking up and seeing them made it hard for him. We’ve ordered the urn. (He wanted a companion urn, where their ashes would be combined. He’s struggling with the idea that Mama went first. He’s told me that he knows it’s selfish, because it would have left me to deal with everything, but he wishes so much that he had gone first. School starts for me in 2 days, so he will be alone a lot. I worry about him. About a week before we lost Mama, he was going in for a bone marrow biopsy, and they discovered that what had been a “flutter” in his heart is now full blown arrhythmia. So we’ve now added a cardiologist to the list. His health has really declined. He asked me if I was going to stay, and I told him I was here as long as he needed/wanted. He thanked me for that, and said he would like me to stay. So, I’m staying.