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My Mother, Leaving Me

Woman with Alzheimer's Sits on a Swing Shaded by an Umbrella by Lynn Johnson

I visited my 80 year old mom yesterday.

Afterward, I came home and ran for 2 and a half hours (not my usual workout routine!) and slept for two hours last night. My mom is dying.

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The Harvest

She was standing naked in a field of red wheat – the field to the east of her grandparent’s house that she had passed on her way in from Chicago – but she didn’t feel cold or realize she was naked until she saw Paul a few feet away. He was wearing a lab coat, had a stethoscope around his neck, and was examining a shadowy figure on the operating table in front of him. Leni stepped closer and realized that the patient was her grandmother, stiff and still as she had always been, and fully clothed in a long, black dress. She slowly turned her stone face to Leni and spoke. “Ich war schon tot.” [...]

Song from Childhood

“My mother had the best possible death,” Hans wrote. “It was sudden, painless, and in the company of the one she loved.” [...]

Pickle

The water was now at her neck and for the first time in her life she wished she was taller. She prayed and thanked Jesus for the moon, for enough light to see just a bit ahead of her, but feared too all this light might give her away. As if Jesus heard her concern, the moon would occasionally hide behind the clouds, leaving her in such darkness she would extend her hands as far as she could hoping to touch the end of the river, the invisible, unimaginable other side. [...]