dine and dash

My mom is sick, sick as in go towards the light sick. It’s been a long emotional week full of ups and downs and downs and downs. Lots of downs. That tummy bug we all had turned into a uti for my mom. One that has her hovering on the edge of here and heaven. For the last eleven days I have been sitting here watching her fade and wondering what we should be praying for. Alive, she’s here, I can see her and sit with her. But it’s not really her, it’s a frantic small person who screams until she’s hoarse and repeats a word or phrase over and over again until she falls asleep, exhausted from her confusion. She doesn’t eat, she barely drinks, this isn’t life. And then I head home at the end of the day, exhausted myself from doing nothing g myself. Nothing but watching and cajoling. Nothing but crying and praying. Praying for nothing, praying for something, praying for everything. Before bed I call and check on her. I go to sleep but not to rest. And then in the morning I return, hoping for  a miracle, expecting none. But she is better every morning. Little steps. Tiny changes and I smile with relief. Short lived relief. Maybe she turned the corner, maybe this is good. But my hopes are dashed, the progress is so small. One step forward, two steps back. And this is my new world, praying for something, hoping for everything, expecting nothing.