Last night, about 30 minutes after I got home, just after my husband and I finished our late dinner, my phone rang. I knew immediately it wasn't good news, because it was my dad calling. And considering that it was around 10:30 p.m. Eastern, my heart just sank.
Dad told me that it looks like my mom's cancer fight is nearing its end. She is rarely awake for more than a few minutes, is barely eating or drinking, and gets very agitated when asleep, crying out for her mom often. The hospice nurse doesn't expect that Mom will be with us for more than a few weeks.
I had thought that, seeing as how I have been bracing myself for this part of Mom's journey for four years (the four-year mark of hearing the word "cancer" is on Wednesday) that it would be easier, less painful.
I was wrong. The long, slow trudge toward the end is no less painful, no less devastating because I knew it was coming.
Please pray for us.