Endings

I've just received a parcel from my mom - the last one sent before she went to hospital. And most likely the last we'll ever receive from her.

Once again it was filled with goodies for everyone. Things for the littlest grandsons. Videos and interesting freebies for my son. Books, articles and other helpful goodies for me (with her handwritten notes in a firm hand in the margins, but a shaky hand addressing each item to us). The packages are always put together with much thought and love.

And receiving this has made me realize, more than anything else that's happened, that a chapter in our lives is closing. When one starts to experience "lasts", it tends to hit home.

Think about a move to another place, another country. You go to your favourite restaurant for the last time, visit nearby family and friends for the last time, take in the views for the last time, breathe the air and smell the scents unique to that place one last time before you close the door and leave.

And getting this package is a lot like that. It's a full-stop, one of many in this journey. I've been fine up till now (my sis-in-law says I'm way too chipper in the face of this situation). I've been focused on mom re-made for eternity, and put thoughts of what we're losing away in a dark corner somewhere to gather dust. But now and then they insist on surfacing. They demand attention, recognition, an opening up of the box and examining of the contents.

We still don't know how long mom has. Each day she slips a little further. Photos dad sent show her unbelievably yellow, a mask of oldness where her youthful face once was, every line amplified, skin sagging as her body gives out slowly but surely, her eyes tired. I haven't let my son see these pictures. I don't think I want him to remember his beloved gran that way, but rather as we last saw her - pink-faced and happy, struggling but still very much alive.

Today her brother from the USA was due to arrive (surprise!) and her sister may be arriving too. I hope they get to spend time with her while she's still around. That she will be able to talk and enjoy their presence without the increasing confusion we've heard in her voice when we phoned. I hope dad will get a chance to give over some of her care and take care of himself for a little while, to rest and let his spirit fill up his soul again. I hope she will finally get to go home, where she wants to be.

But one never knows. One can only watch each chapter pass, each page turn and never un-turn again. Hoping that the final chapter, the glorious, magnificent Forever we hope for, will not be too far off....