My Mom battled COPD and congestive heart failure for years. She lived alone in an apartment about 5 miles from my house. I took care of her daily. I helped her with daily housework and meal planning. I could tell that her health was getting worse so I made a comment about when she thought it was time she could always come live with me. She would always say no, that she didn't want to be a "burden". Her and one of her sisters had looked into assisted living centers and the price was outrageous. One day last summer she asked me if the offer of her moving in with me was still an option. I immediately said OF COURSE. She said to talk it over with my husband and to let her know. My amazing husband, Ryan, said that it was a no brainer. So we rearranged our home to accommodate my mom moving in.

She moved in with us in August of 2010. We were both worried about how we would each adjust. But we did. It was like she had always lived here. We spent our mornings drinking coffee and watching The Price is Right. (Mornings are still one of the hardest times for me.) She loved our family dinners around the table every night.

Fast forward to April of 2011. She had taken a weekend trip to Omaha with one of her sisters to see her other sister. I talked to her a couple of times over the weekend and noticed that something was "off" with her. Her speech was slurred at times and she would forget that she had talked to me earlier in the day. I had chalked it up to the fact that she had finally broke down and started taking the small dose of morphine that the doctor had prescribed for her breathing. She came home on Sunday April 3rd. She didn't look good at all. I asked her if she was alright and she just cried. She said that she couldn’t go on her trips anymore. She got confused with her meds and just slept the whole weekend she was gone. I got her calmed down and she wanted to lay down for a little bit before dinner. She slept all day and didn't get up to have dinner. When she got up Monday I knew that something was really off. She was confused and "out of it." She slept all day that day again. Come Tuesday she got up and asked if she could lay on the couch because she didn't want to be in her room alone. She laid down on the couch and slept all day. I would wake her up periodically and she made no sense when she spoke. She quit taking all of her meds (heart medication). Before all this we had discussed hospice. How she did not want to be hospitalized and wanted to die at home. I discussed this with my siblings and moms sisters. We decided that it might be time to get Hospice involved.

Hospice came over that same week and did an evaluation. Mom was somewhat more coherent but not much. She spent the next month in her bed not eating and barely drinking. Hospice came over once a week and her vitals remained stable. She was so weak and had to be helped to the bathroom. She had to be put on anti-psychotic medication because she would just scream and was extremely terrified. She thought she was being held hostage in a black hole. I was her caregiver. I was the one that took care of her meds, slept with her at night to make sure she stayed in bed. I got a baby monitor so that when I couldn't be in the room I could hear her if she moved or needed me. It was attached to my hip day and night.

Three weeks into her "illness" it was like she just had snapped out of it. She was making sense when she spoke, she would eat a little bit, and even talked on the phone. This lasted almost 2 weeks. She then declined again the end of April. She had her last bite to eat May 3rd. We had a hospital bed moved in by this time and had her bed in the room as well for those that would come and stay with her when my husband was home from work on weekends. We would slide the 2 beds together at night so that we could be close to her when the psychotic episodes would hit. My 38th birthday came on May 24th, (by this time she seen me just as her nurse not her daughter.) I went in and crawled into bed with her and was talking about the day I was born. Hoping she would just open her eyes and see me as her daughter again. She never did.

By this time all of her siblings from out of town were here. At any given time I would have 10-15 people in my house. People were bringing food over, sending flowers and so forth. I was totally numb. I had removed myself emotionally from the situation. I had literally just became moms nurse. On May 29th the hospice nurse had suggested that since mom was now completely unresponsive that we take her off the oxygen. This did not sit well with some of her siblings. But her 4 children and most of her siblings were for it. Her one sister is a devout catholic and thought if we did this it would be "assisting" in her death. There was a huge family "debate" over this. It was decided at this time we would not remove the oxygen. The next day (Memorial Day) the nurse came back and suggested we take the oxygen off briefly and see what her stats do. My aunt and I decided that we would try this. Moms O2 went from 94% to 64% within seconds. We put the oxygen back on and the nurse said that if we left it off she would be gone within hours. I asked the nurse "So the oxygen is as if she was on life support?" She said yes. I looked at my aunt and said "You know that is not what she wanted." So we decided it was time. We called in the family and removed the oxygen at 3:30pm. The amazing nurse stayed for the next 3 hours waiting. But mom was stubborn. That night with my cousin and 2 aunts in with mom I came out into the living room with my oldest daughter, one of my sisters and my husband and decided that I wasn't going to sleep that night. So we made popcorn and watched tv. We were all going to take turns sitting with mom. At 11:30pm my cousin came out and said the worst words I have ever heard. "SHE IS GONE". For a brief moment I thought it was all a joke. I was suppose to be in with her when she passed. Not sitting in the living room eating popcorn of all things.

I still have issues with not being present when she took her last breath. But I think it was Moms way of protecting me. I think she knew that I wasn't strong enough for that. It's now been 2 months since she passed. I started counseling which has been extremely helpful and comforting. My husband and 3 kids are a huge support for me and me for them. Some days the pain is unbearable but I make it thru. My heart at times physically feels like it is breaking. But I just close my eyes and imagine my mothers loving arms around me and it comforts me. It also comforts me knowing that she is no longer suffering. She is healthy and whole in the arms of God looking down on her loved ones smiling. And someday I will be with her again. But for now I go to the cemetery where I feel the closest to her and tell her about my day just like I would when she was here. I tell her that I am going to be ok...which I will be. I am strong because of her.