(no subject)
Oct. 15th, 2011 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwydionMother is unlikely to last the night, so if I left right now, I woould still be too late. They held the phone up to her so i could say good bye. Sje is not lucid as they have given her narcotics, and she got te familial atypical psychedelic response to them.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Creach is calling later to sort out plans. I have to decide if traveling with the lung infection for a funeral makes any sense, given the risk of spread en route even with masks.
My Mother has always had that mix of practicality, strength, and fierceness that so characterized the women of her family. This thing killed the Aunts, her sister, and now it's killing her. There are no words for how I'll miss her, or how horrible it is to think of her helpless and scared here at the end after a lifetime of fighting. She, who chased the little brother's bully bully all the way home. She who watched over our childhood, her strong arms and clever hands ripping apart and rebuilding the furniture of strangers. She who always found a way when things were rough. Her hands that painted unique water colours and the eye that saw with a quirky, mischievous delight, her snarky sense of humor, her quiet pleasure in small things, all pretty much gone..
Where are the words for that, really.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Creach is calling later to sort out plans. I have to decide if traveling with the lung infection for a funeral makes any sense, given the risk of spread en route even with masks.
My Mother has always had that mix of practicality, strength, and fierceness that so characterized the women of her family. This thing killed the Aunts, her sister, and now it's killing her. There are no words for how I'll miss her, or how horrible it is to think of her helpless and scared here at the end after a lifetime of fighting. She, who chased the little brother's bully bully all the way home. She who watched over our childhood, her strong arms and clever hands ripping apart and rebuilding the furniture of strangers. She who always found a way when things were rough. Her hands that painted unique water colours and the eye that saw with a quirky, mischievous delight, her snarky sense of humor, her quiet pleasure in small things, all pretty much gone..
Where are the words for that, really.