Writing is a helpful to organize thoughts and handle emotions. I’m afraid my blog is going to be grim for awhile what with Mother’s decline. Yesterday she nearly died during an attempt to get her out of bed into a wheelchair. CPR was done and EMT was called and there was a lot of drama. Afterwards she seems OK however I sense the consequence of this: she won’t want to get out of bed now and everyone will be fearful to try. Father witnessed it all and he is quite frazzled. It’s hell watching your loved ones deteriorate; he feel so tired and helpless to do anything – and he is feeling guilt about his impromptu decision for the folks try CPR (despite her ‘DNR’ status).  I counseled him no matter what decisions we make they always come with doubt that they were the right ones. The same day as the near-death event folks from hospice care came for an interview. Brother #3 texted me ‘this went well”.  He asked me matter of fact when she dies would I want to be  told as soon as possible or should he wait until the end of the day so I may get through my work day?  I opted for the former.  I am as prepared for her passing as I can be which I know will not be enough. 

Meanwhile the brothers are preparing their lists of what we may want to take from 563.  Last night in my dreams I walked through the rooms remembering what is there and what might I want. I ‘found’ several knickknacks and childhood things of mine. Somewhere in the kitchen is my first tea mug with soldier rabbits on it (pictured in the header today).  Their walls are full up with drawing and paintings I did in my youth when I thought I would become and artist; I should take them too.  I still haven’t made a decision about the baby grand piano.

Apart from things technically mine I want some simple souvenirs of both of them. Brother #3 can take the Stobart paintings and a nephew can take the car. Just give me Father’s collection of swizzle sticks he’s had since the ‘60s. As for Mother I want her formal card decks the one with the Japanese prints that she only used for special bridge parties.

I may think different tomorrow when the actual sorting commences.  I’ve haven’t determined if I want my parents on the phone participating in this or should we let them sleep and do the deed in a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ manuever. Mother is beyond caring about her left possessions.