Letters to My Mother, Part 3: Losing Your Struggle
Friday, December 26th, 2025: Letters to My Mother, Stories, Trouble.
Previous: Your Journey
I’m in another world, you told me
I was dreaming
I was in my dream world
I was trying to think things out
You weren’t here
I’m just trying to get things straightened out
I’m not here (you tapped the quilt)
I’m here (you tapped your chest)
I wish I could replicate it for you
And another time:
How did you get here?
What took you so long?
I’m so scared!
They’re mean to me here!
Take me away!
I want to go home!
To my home? I asked
Yes!
The day before Thanksgiving
You were so weak
For the first time
I had to lift your entire body weight into my car
At home
You were hungry but couldn’t feed yourself
I had to feed you, clean up the food you spilled
And after, for the first time
You could no longer stand or walk
I had to lift your entire body weight out of bed
On and off the commode
As there was less and less of your body
I became more and more familiar with it
Body that had formed me
Body I came out of
You fell asleep in bed in mid-afternoon
Slept through till next morning
Thanksgiving Day
MOTHER! MOTHER! MOTHER! you cried
Over and over like a machine
Eyes staring up
Searching eternity
Sleeping, waking
MOTHER! MOTHER! MOTHER!
Chest heaving in your endless cry
I gave you the anxiety drops
Waited twenty minutes
A fool, I tried to explain
Your mother died long ago
You turned to stare at me
Mother was here!
Earlier!
Is Mother gone?
Is Mother dead?
We never really die, I said
We always live in the hearts of those we love
Now I was crying
Do you suppose we’ll learn to swim? you said
Where did you learn to swim?
And at sundown
DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! you cried
Desperately, like a machine
Eyes wide
Searching eternity
From then on
Every fifteen minutes or so
You cried for Daddy endlessly
Until you ran out of breath
I didn’t know what to do
In 73 years of life
Nothing had prepared me for this
By mid-evening
Your face white as a ghost
Your lips raw red from shouting
I gave you another dose
But you wouldn’t let up
Crying for Daddy
With all your heart
The medicine wasn’t helping
I called hospice
Give her the morphine, they said
I gave you the morphine
Waited an hour
DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!
I went to your side, stroked your hot brow
Tried words of comfort
You looked at me one last time
Get in bed with me! you pleaded
So I rolled the bed out from the wall
And laid down beside you
And you relaxed at last
You fell asleep
I was weak
I couldn’t take this anymore
I called Ernestine
Now you know what we’ve been putting up with for months, she said
And in the morning, she took you away
When I arrived at the home a few hours later
You were still yelling, in your room
GRANDFATHER! GRANDFATHER! GRANDFATHER!
Grandfather’s farm
That’s where you wanted your ashes spread
And now, you’re on your way
In the midst of your cries
Aides tried to swab your mouth
Apply balm to your lips
If they tried to give you water
You clamped your mouth shut
GRANDFATHER! GRANDFATHER! GRANDFATHER!
Hoping to ease your suffering
I asked Ernestine to start you on the morphine
She’ll never wake up again! she warned me
I nodded yes
Hospice said you had three days at most
But I wasn’t sure when that started
You’d had a bit to eat and drink yesterday morning
Nothing since then
At home I prepared
To return and keep a vigil by your side
Came back the next day
You were drowning
Gasping
Neck arching
Shoulders wrenching
Fighting a flood rising inside you
Fluid filling your chest and throat
They said you were sedated – another lie
You would not give up
Their comfort an empty promise
It just got worse and worse
Sunday I came prepared to spend the night
Sat and watched you drowning and fighting
Held your hand
Stroked your forehead
Called you Sweet Mother
Called you my love
Aides came two at a time to swab and turn you
Check and attend to sores
I stepped back to watch
These were the aides who cared
But the shift changed
A departing aide gave me a long hug
The hostile and indifferent aides arrived
I stayed out of their way
But they didn’t check you for sores
Treated you like an object
And when they turned you
They hurt your shoulder
You moaned
I mentioned your crippled shoulder
Asked them to be careful
Thanked them as they left
Shortly Ernestine called
Told me I would have to leave
My presence was making her staff uncomfortable
She said,
If you wanted to be with her when she died
You should’ve kept her at home
And back at home
Less than an hour later
I got the call
You had lost your struggle
Without my hand
Without my voice
Alone at the end
I returned
Past the hostile aide at the door
Past Ernestine in the dining room
I sat with you, held your still-warm shoulder
They’d dressed you in someone else’s clothes
But you were more beautiful than ever
Your long-clenched skin finally relaxed
Smooth and youthful
The lines of your bones strong and straight
Eyelids lowered over the bottomless dark
Of eyes I would never see again
A face I can never forget
That kills me to recall
I laid myself down over you
Cheek to cheek
Hugged your shoulders
Kissed your cooling flesh
I spoke to you softly
My voice hoarse from crying
Sweet mother!
Beautiful mother!
You’re with me always
Where will I go to escape?
Is that what I want?
I don’t want to live
I would’ve stayed there forever
Kept you warm as you grew cold
And as you left me
You led me into your sacred space
A space that only happens
Once in a lifetime
To show me
The Greatest Mystery
Light and darkness
Flesh and bone
Warmth and chill
The pain was gone
And all that was left
Your stunning beauty
Everlasting, in my hands
In my eyes
In my mind
Beyond life
Beyond death
Next: I Tried to Help