Just love

It's been over two and a half years now that my father has been gone. Though the times that he finds a way to let me know he is still here are fewer and further between now, he does it when I seem to need it the most.

He's been around more lately, with the songs and the clouds and the vivid dreams.

I know why.

My mom is dying.

God, it hurts to type that.

I've known for a while now that this day would arrive. That eventually her body wouldn't be able to fight anymore, that at some point all the medical science in the world wouldn't be enough. I knew this.

I've prepared for it more than once, in reality.

I've kissed her goodbye a few times, never knowing if she would wake up from anesthesia. I've sat at her bedside for hours, heard the direst of news from doctors and nurses. I've been on the receiving end of panicked phone calls. I've stood sobbing alone in a parking lot clutching my stomach as the helicopter lifted off in an attempt to save her again, not knowing if they would be able to, not knowing if I would get to where they were taking her in time if she didn't make it.

She hasn't so much been living these last few years as she's just been staying alive.

I think a part of her went with him when he died. Too much of her.

November, 2009 Weeks after he was diagnosed

She's tired.

I think she is ready, though I can't say for sure.

I can't say because I don't know.

She moved far away just over a year ago now, and I haven't seen her since. She's been in and out of hospitals and rehabilitation places and care units most of that time. She's in the care of hospice now, and for that I am grateful.

So grateful.

There has been so much heartbreak and loss, so much pain and suffering. I hope with everything in my heart that there can be peace now.

The last few years have been full of conflict, it's true. Things haven't been the way that they should. We haven't been a normal mother and daughter, whatever that means. Nothing has been normal.

None of that matters anymore. When you strip away all the rest of it, there is just love.

Just love.

I love you, Mom.

We all do.