I knew this day would come. I completed all the "steps" to make this happen. Yet, all along I thought God would just take my Mama to be with Daddy forever. I guess in the back of my mind I didn't really think that Mama would have to spend her final days in a nursing home. Last week, after refusing to eat or drink for four days I honestly thought that God was taking her home. Lesson learned...I am NOT God and cannot even begin to think as He does. Morning of the 5th day she calls me bright and early (5:20 am) and asks for her pills and $200 to go grocery shopping for chicken.
So, today the check arrives that will allow me to admit her into the nursing home. There is a reason the word "angst" is spelled as it is. When you utter it at the top of your lungs it comes out as a prayer for help. I'll tell you straight up, I hate this whole thing. I wish I could just erase all her pain and anguish. Instead I call for the waiter..."Check Please"
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