No longer hearing the cry of my mother’s voice

Mom‘s voice has rung in my thoughts for months. Now that she’s dead, the crying voice of “Why am I still alive?” and “I’m tired and alone!” are gone. The stillness in my thoughts is deafening. And with that, I’ll close this blog as we finish our 35-day African holiday on Likoma Island in Lake

Mentally and physically drained but going on, anyway

My sister bore the major burden of caring for our mother. We handle the death of our mother differently. Despite severe diarrhea and dehydration, despite feeling empty inside after my mother’s death, I am still on holiday and there’s not much I can do from here in Southern Africa [currently texting from the Intercontinental Hotel

Meanwhile, back at home

From my sister: Mom has changed drastically since last night and now is experiencing more apnea-type episodes. Will be starting liquid morphine soon with Ativan. The aide plans to stay through the night with me, and possibly my son? My daughter is supposed to drive back tonight and is having a very hard time. They

My mother’s last days

From my sister: Mom is declining rapidly. Nothing to eat or drink yesterday. No urine output yesterday since no fluid intake. After me yelling at hospice Thurs night, they are finally providing the services they have been paid for this past year. She is resting comfortably and that is our goal. The aide has continued

Still on safari

We arrived at our new location down the road from Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, after a short chartered flight in an airplane… …and a helicopter… Right now I’m struggling between enjoying myself and keeping thoughts on my mother as she’s dying. More as it develops…

Last night at Dulini Moya

We bid South Africa farewell as we move north into the heart of Africa. Last evening safari drive…

On the home front

From my sister at 4:48 am her time: I hope that you all have absorbed so much beauty in the wildlife and new experiences you have had in Africa. What adventures! After multiple calls to hospice yesterday, the nurse finally came around 8:30 PM. Based on what we have seen with Mom since last Friday,

Talking to myself 24/7 these days

Back in the U.S. of A., before we left for Africa, we ate at a Dairy Queen restaurant. Whilst waiting for our food, a young man in grungy, smelly clothes (most likely homeless) walked in. He mumbled to himself in a running conversation between voices. Possibly schizophrenic. The restaurant employees knew him and placed his