So Tired

My mom is so very tired. This week, when I was there at the house, I noticed Mom catnapping. She would do something Mom-like, such as dragging the rake to the end of the driveway. Then she would take a few swipes at some leaves, drag the rake back to the garage, come inside, and sit in Dad's chair.

Tonight she was telling me what projects she is working on. She showed me a piece of furniture from which she is bravely attempting to clean mildew. (I personally think the mildew has destroyed the finish and it will have to be stripped, but Mom is not hearing any of that.) In between telling me about her projects, Mom fell asleep in Dad's big red chair. Then she would wake up and talk some more.

I asked if she remembered Dad saying, "I don't know why I should feel so tired." Mom didn't remember him saying those words, but she did remember how Dad would nap off and on throughout the day. Just like her. I remember hospice explaining that they spend all their energy on ADL, the activities of daily living.

Tonight Mom asked Karis to go to the grocery store for her. I think that is a first. Mom seems to be cutting out things. She sent me to the bank for her earlier this week. Now Karis to do her shopping. Seems to be a trend. I'm glad she's asking for help. I'm so sad she is tiring. Today at church I heard Mom answer someone who asked how she was doing: "I'm slow and I'm tired."

Tonight as I visited with Mom in between her dozings, I was reminded of the beautiful Billy Joel lullaby we heard on the cruise. And of the John Muir quote I read in Alaska:

"Death is a kind nurse saying, 'Come, children, to bed and get up in the morning' - a gracious Mother calling her children home."

I know there is no way to call it.
I know there is no way to call it.
I know there is no way to call it, but tonight the end seems close to me.