This weekend my Mom passed away at home after a very long battle with Parkinson's disease. There was no dramatic crescendo or poetic last words, just two deep breathes as she drifted away like a mid summer breeze. Her decline had started five years earlier and eventually progressed to the point where my brother and I put our careers on hold, moved into our family home and took on the role as caregivers. It was a crash course in maneuvering through the ever unpredictable daily world of elder care. It was tough and it was hard but my brother and I were determined to make the time she had left as comfortable and familiar as possible. In March my Mom's condition entered the end stages of the disease and my brother and I made the painful decision to initiate home hospice. By the way, I cannot say enough about how amazing the hospice nurses and aides are. Soon the days became routine and scheduled. The disease had morphed my Mom from person to patient and I began to find myself too busy dealing with the patient to remember the person. So it was to my relief that today, while going through old photographs, that I began to remember. I heard my Mom's laugh, saw her smile, felt her warmth and began my long journey back from being my mother's caregiver to my mother's daughter.
Here's to Happy Travels