I watch her sleep, which is often. She loves to be touched, and although her eyes remain closed her smile lets me know that she is at peace.

The nasty cancer-monster has reared back his fist and slammed it into my family’s heart.

After being told that Mom’s lung cancer was in remission, her legs became weak and painful. Following many tests, it was determined that the cancer that had invaded her lung had spread to her spine, along with areas on her hip and thigh. 15-20 more rounds of radiation were prescribed. The cancer-monster shows no mercy. Mom quickly became unable to walk, and after a couple of weeks, her in-home nursing team determined that Hospice needed to step in.

After hours of discussion, Dad and I made the painful decision to halt further radiation. There were no guarantees that it would treat the cancer, just help with pain. In the hospice center, the Morphine seemed to be doing a fine job of that. We brought her home.

This week we welcomed a new family member. Barbara is a Certified Nurses Aid and came highly recommended. We moved her into the upstairs bedroom, and we now have the full-time help we need so desperately.

During Mom’s waking hours, we reminisce about the fun times we’ve had. We occasionally lay or sit with Mom in her hospital bed that looks out onto the lanai and pool. We pour through photo albums and tell stories and laugh. And although she now realizes (usually) that is going to die, she seems happier than I’ve seen her in many, many months.

Fatigue sets in, and once again, she sleeps.