This afternoon my mother went to sleep. They started her on a drug called Midazolam, which is the drug they use when you break a bone. It relaxes muscles, reduces anxiety, and works as a sedative. She is now sleeping with no signs of distress, which is a comfort. She will remain on a fairly high dose of this through IV until she passes away.
As they started the IV, I held her and told her all the things I wanted to say. When I said that I would have a good life, she came alert and looked me right in the eyes. "You promise?" she said. And I promised. She came to once more to say that she loved me, a fact I have never doubted. Those were her last coherent words.
I am sad right now, but also relieved. The past two days she has been in distress and I hated seeing it. I knew she was scared, and even though the nurses were quick and liberal with the medications, I still hated knowing she was suffering. Now she's peaceful and that makes me happy.
One of the things I'm finding hardest right now is that I feel like I'm losing my past. My mother was the one who knew me, knew all the stories of both my childhood and my family. We recorded several of them over the last months so I have some of them, and in her voice, but there's so much we couldn't capture. I'm also saying goodbye to my best friend. Everyone was right, you can never be ready for this. I will turn 30 in July and my mummy won't be there. We were suppose to go to New York together, just the two of us, to celebrate my birthday. All those plans are now never going to happen.
I know I've made mistakes over the last months, but I made the best choices I could. I'm having trouble really knowing this, though. I feel so guilty, there's so much more I could have done. I know this is normal, but it still hurts so much.
I have taken the rest of the week off work, and everyone has been very supportive. I will continue to stay with her right until the end, even if she no longer knows I here. It's as much a comfort to me as it is to her, I think.
DH has been amazing through everything. He was an orphan and not close to his adoptive parents at all. When he was 19 he moved in with my mother and I and she was the closest thing he's ever had to a real parent. I know he's hurting, too. As she was falling asleep, he was a mess. He kept apologizing for not being stronger for me.
I've said it before, but it's worth saying again. Thank you, DIS friends. Having a place to let everything out has been so precious to me. And having people respond in kindness meant the world. So thank you. I still have a little more to go on this journey, and I'm glad I have a place to share it.
. One of God’s greatest tests is watching our parents suffer and know they are slipping away and not be able to help. 
. You’ve been a wonderful, caring, loving, devoted daughter. She loves and appreciates the special bond you share and how you've always been there for her. May you be granted faith, strength, courage, peace and comfort, during this difficult time. God bless your dear Mum, you and DH. 
