I’ve stayed with Mom round the clock since Monday. A lot of that time has been spent watching her sleep, holding her hand, stroking her hair, or snuggling up to her in the twin hospital bed. Ashley was here for a few days and we sat on either side of her, each holding a hand. For the past 53 hours, she hasn’t awoken. She doesn’t respond to touch. Her limbs are weak and her breathing labored. I play soft music, I sing quietly, I tell her we love her (naming everyone in our family), I tell her it’s okay to let go, I tell her I’m leaving for a bit (and go into the hallway in case she wants to pass alone), I sit silently and watch her breathe, I tell her that Dad’s waiting for her, and I tell her we’ll be just fine. 

We’ll eventually be just fine. 

I wonder, does she hear these words? Does she sense we’re with her? Is she already in another dimension? Is she in pain? Is she scared? More than anything, I hope she’s at peace.