In a few hours this year will be over.  I thought for sure mom wouldn’t make it this year but she has.  Barely.

She is not well.  She is on hospice.  And several times even today I checked to make sure she was still going.  She is.  And she could rally and make it a number of more months.  Or tonight might be her last night.  It’s so hard to know with LBD.

This year is such a blur I don’t remember hardly anything.  Every day is just one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.

I know I got the Caregiver book out but I sure would like to update it.

And with mom, we all got COVID in October and she came through the best.  Although she had to go to the hospital for dehydration and not eating.

November she was put on hospice.

And now it is 123123.  Or 12/31/23 in the American system.

There’s so much to ponder when your loved one draws near to the end of their days.  Nothing prepares you for it.  I have thought of her potential departure every day for the last 10 years.  And now it is getting near.

Then there’s the other realities.  I will need to move immediately (that day) due to some circumstances.  I will lose not just my mother but everything around that.  So much loss.  But also new opportunities.  And new options.  Not just a new chapter but a new book of life to be written.

This morning I went to church and I actually kind of regretted it.  Not because of the people or service or anything.  But because I am so emotionally empty that it took everything I had to be there.  I have nothing left in the tank.  Just…nothing.  People don’t understand that.  They say ‘just go take a long nap.’  But they don’t get it.

I have peace with my mother’s departure that will inevitably happen in 2024.  She knows the Lord.  She will be home.  I know she misses her other family members that have gone before.

I just don’t know how to feel.  Other than I’m just.  so.  tired.

But mom.  I love you.  And I will fight for you every day that the Lord has you on this earth.