Mom Moved to ICU

I am sitting in my mother’s hospital room. We have been one of the first families allowed to visit their dying family members in this COVID world. I am blessed to be here.

My mom is resting. I hope comfortably. The staff in ICU is responsive to her needs. There is a machine breathing for her, which makes it hard to hear her talk. Thankfully I can make out some of the words.

Earlier she talked a lot more. She had more strength then–her energy is gone. She’s getting ready to go.

I am sitting here crying because I am going to miss her so much. She was my champion. If I have any self-esteem, it is because she told me I was important, that I was smart, that I could do whatever I wanted.

We have a special relationship. I can call her about anything, and she never judges me. Heck, she will chime right in. She knows all my stuff, so I never have to explain. She gets me in a way no one else does.

Whenever life would take me north, I would call her up, and we would do lunch or dinner together. I did not always treat her the best. I had my share of frustration with her, but none of that kept us from loving each other.

Losing her will create a void I am not sure how to fill. So, if I hound you for lunch or two because I passed through Stacy and am missing my mom, or if I call you up all crazy, hoping you still love me, you will know I am hoping to find a bit of my mom in you.

Gosh darn, do I love this woman so much. I am grateful I am a little like her.

**I posted this picture of my mom here, but not on the original Facebook post. She is gone now, and the vanity and any need for privacy that might have existed are gone now. I add this for me. So I remember that day and how she was as I sat near her bed. I miss you, mom. It is currently just about seven weeks to the hour since this picture was taken, August 8, 2020, at 5 p.m., and nearly that long since you have been gone.

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