Saturday, October 26, 2002

Kate is in Iowa to help her mother care for her uncle, who is in the end stage of lung cancer.  Kate's reports on what is going on down there remind me of the last few days of my mother's life.  I slept on a mattress near her bed so that when she woke up in the night moaning in pain, I could get up quick and give her water or morphine or stuff pillows behind her back.  I felt a huge sense of relief when she finally died.  A few quick memories.  I remember how strange it was to encounter crying neighbors and friends that day.  For us the ordeal was over and these people had their timing all messed up.  Those that reached out to us after she died left a huge impression on me.  I especially remember our close family friends showing up with a smorgasboard of great meat and bread and beer and just starting to have a really good time.  These people had recently lost their own mother to cancer and we really clicked with them that day.  Neighbors and friends of my mom would show up at the door and look in at us in horror for having such a good time.  My mom's memory lives on with me, but when I try to think of who she was, I first remember her as a cancer victim.  It takes a lot of effort to call up other memories of her now. 9:14:37 PM    comment []