My mother has been put into Hospice care at home.  She is 92 and her birthday is August 22.  I don’t think she is going to make it.  She is not sick, she is not in pain.  She is just old and life is slowly slipping away.

The family has started to trickle in–a niece from Hawaii, another from Houston, my daughter and her baby, my husband and I, and more will be here on Monday and Tuesday.

We are all gathering to say goodbye to the last parent/grandparent/great grandparent that we have.  She is the last of an era and she is a gem.  She is sharp as a tack and has a better memory than most of us.  She is a gentle soul–soft spoken and undemanding, patient with all of us and happy just to see and hear the activity of a large family.

My daughter is a violinist, and yesterday she played her great grandfather’s violin for her grandmother.  She started with No sé por qué, a love song my Tata (grandfather) wrote for my Nana (grandmother) when he was courting her in the early 1900s.  Mom said hearing the song tore at her heart, and she wanted to hear it again, such were the memories it renewed.  Mom hummed the Mexican Hat Dance and asked Rebekah to play it, which she did.  For almost 45 minutes Mom was transformed into a young woman again–reminiscing about the past, but very much in the present.  She told stories we hadn’t heard and gave the next generation stories to remember.

It is good that we are here to share precious moments with Mom who has had such an impact on our lives.  She and Dad were a constant offering for our family–there are seven of us and each one of us knows he is loved and always has been.   I am grateful that we have the opportunity to return that love in a tangible way, just by being here with her.  Her eye is on eternity, but she still has a foot hold here, and we “know not the day nor the hour.”

She has strong faith and is at peace with God.   I ask your prayers for a happy, holy death for her, and strength for all of us.