It’s been 3 weeks since you left us mom.
I remember that morning so well, the nurse saying that yes more people can come when a patient is dying. My first realization you were leaving us.
I called my sister so she could come back to the hospital, thankful we could be there together.
I remember you the night before at the hospital, helping you and you saying I’m so embarrassed. I said, no mom, don’t be. At that time I knew I was giving back to you all that you had given to me making sure that even though trauma in our life happened, we were always loved and cared for.
I remember playing Elvis for you and that smile you had for about two songs and then you said turn it off.
I remember turning it off and asking if you remembered our trip to Nashville and you said yes with a smile.
I remember when your blood pressure started dropping and you began to sweat; you made me laugh because you thought they had put two pairs of pants on you. I grabbed a wet rag and laid it on your forehead and then one on your stomach
I remember the nurse practitioner asking me about DNR and I needed to know more. I remember the tears that started falling at that moment recognizing that saving you might not be an option.
I remember the NG tube and all the guck that they removed.
I remember my sister returning and us watching you, not sleeping, making sure you weren’t grabbing at the oxygen tubes.
I remember your great-grandkids coming and not being able to come up – we face-timed, you knew they were there – you moved your hand.
I remember watching Jaxon and Carson so my niece could see you and she came down and said, Jennifer go up now
I remember the tears. The sadness. The pain.
I remember the thought of you being in peace.
I remember your last breath as my sister and I were by your side.
I remember mom. I remember. I remember so much from those last moments with you and I remember so much of my 43 years with you as my number one supporter – one of the few that loved me unconditionally.
Mom – the rest of my writing this month – devoted to you – will be of memories together – those fond moments we had as well as the hardship that helped me understand you and you understand me. The memories of our life and your legacy as we move forward.
Love the Grey! 
I’m so sorry about your loss. Your post was written so beautifully, it brought tears to my eyes thinking of losing my stepdad last August. Sending you prayers and hope the memories you write about this month bring much comfort.
So sorry for your loss. Writing really helps me process. You never know what will flow from the brain to the fingers to the keyboard yet it is therapeutic.
Thank you so much for sharing this! I have tears streaming down my face. The loss of a parent is so hard, no matter how old you are. I’ve found writing memories has been a huge help to me. Be especially kind to yourself in the coming weeks.
thank you and I will…
Prayers for your mom. I have no words, only a lump in my throat as I read this. May you find peace.
Thank you
What you are doing here is so beautiful. I can feel the love you have for your mother. This is such a lovely tribute. When the month ends you can collect all of your mom related writing for the month, bind it together and share it with family- or if you are more comfortable just keep it to yourself as your own personal memories bank, but I believe writing about all these emotions and memories will bring you peace.
Thanks so much – I miss her everyday and the writing definitely helps me sort through my emotions. Writing is a beautiful thing like that.
A wonderful tribute, lovingly written. I’m so sorry for your loss.
The pacing of this piece took me to a familiar place from my own experiences. The “I remember” paragraphs going down to single sentences…it felt like the pace of gasping for air in each moment as a crushing reality bears down. The piece turns the corner in the second to last paragraph “I remember Mom. I remember.” Just really well done.
This leaves a lump in my heart. Your mom left a monument in you with her legacy. God bless!!