Hospice

Last week, my sister and I discussed my mother's recent decline and decided it was time to call hospice. My mother's doctor signed the order, which was a bittersweet victory--we were right in judging it was time.

Since my father was diagnosed five years ago, we have gone through losing him to Alzheimer's, only to have Mom diagnosed right before his death with dementia as well. We are both so very tired--perhaps we are even numb. Going through this once is hard and unfair--going through it twice is beyond that.

My father was a smoker, so the inside windows of the family car were always filmy, making viewing the passing scenery a challenge. In the backseat, my sister and I were never 100 percent sure where we were once it got dark.

Now it is as if we are in the backseat of the car, Mom now behind the wheel. We are unable to see over the seat back ahead of us, nor are we able to see clearly out the side windows. We kind of know where we are going, as we have been here before. However, Mom has her signal on, has had in on for quite a while, and we aren't sure if we are exiting, or if it is a false alarm.