Mom slept for twenty eight hours, waking only once for the bathroom and a bowl of ice cream, all of which she did with her eyes closed and a great deal of protesting. Even washing her face with her PCA was difficult.

Last night at family prayer we discussed our next steps, what the future might look like. We always have two of us “on shift” now at the house as Mom’s health fails further. We reviewed the hospice protocols with everyone and talked through what Mom’s funeral will look like according to her pre-planning.

Today, Mom woke up at about 8:30 and has been a bit more more wakeful. She has eaten a few bowls of ice cream and an egg with most of a piece of toast. She is also drinking again. The PCA says that the back and forth is to be expected at this stage of the hospice journey. But it does seem with each occurrence she slips a little further away from us. Even her “wakefulness” is different from what it was a week ago.

Amanda and I are on shift today. I have been sitting quietly with Mom as she naps and have begun going through old pictures.

The time is drawing closer, I think when we will need to be putting these pictures together on memory boards.

It is a bitter sweet time as I rehearse memories, retelling myself and the kids the old stories of our family in this place we call the Vicarage. It is a sad time. It is a sweet time. It is violent with inevitability and quiet with a rhythm that feels so deep…so poignant. I sense this quiet planning time is some of the most consequential time I will ever spend.