I wanted to know what to expect.  I wanted a date.  I wanted certainty that I could plan for. I wanted the nurse to tell me the day and the hour and of course that was not possible. And I did not want the end, ever.

In early May I went home for a few weeks and then got the call.  We all expected she would die from sepsis caused by the dying foot but that was not the case.  It was just simply time.  We got to this point with only a few vials of low dose morphine.  Not a lot of pain, just tired.

I arrived to Mom’s home at midnight and she seemed fine and aware that I was there. After a few hours of rest I came back upstairs and Mom and I held hands and dosed together.  At 6:00am she seemed restless so I gave her a small amount of morphine and climbed into bed with her.  I wrapped my arms around her and we snuggled quietly as the day started to break.

What we would do today? Would Mom still be up for the garden as she had the day before?  Quietly I notice my Mom had quit breathing.  While my thoughts were wandering but with my arms wrapped around her, she had slipped away.  No big rattle, no expelling of fluids, just a quiet and gracious exit.

A team member came around the corner to check on us and I asked her to open the window to allow Mom’s spirit to leave.  The end of her life was as beautiful as the person she was.