Over the last few days...
...my mother's touch, when I have been assisting her in movement, has been noticeably lighter, her muscles in her forearms noticeably less tense. This doesn't seem to be affecting her agility (or, more appropriately, her lack thereof). I've also noticed that I don't need to grip her more tightly or steer her more securely. For well over a year, when I assist her by securing her arms with mine, I've been gripping her from from the backs of her elbow(s) and extending my tensed forearm along hers, making sure her hands are locked onto my inner elbow, functioning as a living rail. This hasn't changed. It's just that her forearm muscles are now loose, where, a few days ago, they were tight.
    Since this doesn't seem to be affecting her movement, I'm not concerned, just curious. Early this morning, as I was drifting off to sleep, I wondered if this is metaphorical indication that she is "letting go", hanging onto life less tightly. Nothing else in her behavior is signaling this, but, maybe, very little will, considering her character. Last night, for instance, after dinner, when I produced the oven-warm cherry pie she'd requested for dessert and asked her how large a slice she wanted, she grinned conspiratorially and indicated a quarter of the pie. That's what I gave her. Seems as though I may be right about the end-of-life sweet roll scenario.
    For some reason, contemplating this put me in mind of recalling that when the Hospice RN and Physician left on Wednesday, verbally taking leave of my mother, my mother said, along with her acknowledgment of their leave taking, "It's [the visit] been very inspirational!" Surprised everyone, including me, although not one of us followed up what she meant, only took note that it was obvious that she had not picked this word out of oblivious air. Most of the visit had been directed toward me, which is a switch from previous visits, and the direction involved the RN's and Physician's concern about my perception of Hospice and my mother's status within this sphere of care. Even when I'm in on the conversation, my attention rarely strays from my mother. She was, as usual, acutely tuned into the conversation going on around her. I could tell, from certain familiar physical tics, that she found parts of the conversation particularly interesting, almost as though she was storing them for future consideration. However, although her lung cancer and her eventual death were mentioned more than a few times, and when these subjects floated to the surface my mom-attention was particularly acute and detected no indications of surprise or heightened interest from her, my assessment includes the fact that these subjects were not necessarily of more interest to her than the rest of the conversation. I have to admit, though, I didn't take specific mental note of the bits of conversation that aroused her interest above her usual attention. Wish I had, now. Perhaps I'd have an idea of what, about the visit, inspired her and how so.
    It looks as though today will be yet another Last Monsoon day, for at least another five days, so my plan is to take it easy and fully enjoy the promised afternoon and evening showers. Last night was the first night since the beginning of summer when the temperature dropped substantially before bed, enough so that I closed all windows and doors and turned off all but one fan before my mother awoke from her evening nap. About three days ago I began leaving the bathroom heater on 24/7, as Mom began to complain of the cold toilet seat. The sun is daily angling itself further into our living room, preparing to naturally heat the front part of the house during winter. Last night at the grocery as I was picking up the requested cherry pie for dessert (I checked for Lancer's or Mateus, Mom's preferred rosés, but this grocery doesn't stock them, so I'll be visiting a liquor store within the next few days...I hope these brands are still available; part of Mom's pleasure in these wines is their distinctive bottles) the clerk and I spent a few moments marveling over the continuing rains, hoping for a white Christmas, as well as winter, and reminiscing about the few white Christmases we remember in this area over the last little-over-a-decade. One last Christmas Card Christmas, I think, if the Mrs. Christmas who is my mother is still here, would be the appropriate icing to her well contrived cake of a life. Let it snow, this year over the holidays, and let it snow some more and let it snow again.
    Out of curiosity I'm going to try rousing Mom an hour before her 12-hour-sleep-mark today. Although I only do this, anymore, if she's expecting visitors (usually Hospice visitors) and I prime her the day before and upon awakening so that she slips easily into gear, I'm wondering if she's still capable of a bit less night sleep when no particular reason is attached. I'm not planning persistence, I'm just wondering if this is still possible. I will, of course, report back.
    Later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 11:42   email  this post