My brother John called this morning. He confirmed my worst fears, Mom is dying. It could be next week or six months from now.
His next step is to secure hospice care for her. We want to make her as comfortable as possible.
Like my father she made it clear to us many times that she did not want her life artificially prolonged. We will honor her wishes.
Ironically, Pop died almost ten years ago to this date. He died from lung cancer on August 22, 2000. He was 80 years old. He didn't suffer too long. He was in the hospital hooked up to oxygen and pain killers for a little over two weeks. It was a blessing that he died when he did because he was in a great deal of discomfort.
While I was never that close to my father, and we knew he was dying, his death was still a major blow for me and my brothers. Mom especially took his death very hard. She was never the same after he died.
I really don't know how I'm going to handle it when my Mother dies. Even this morning, I could hardly talk to John without choking up. The big sissy that I am. Man oh man. This is going to be hard.