I’ll get right to the answer.  It’s watching someone else pass away.  Slowly.  Painfully.

My Mother in Law is lying in a hospital bed and things will never get better.  I’ve finally come to terms with that — I think.  Ok, no I haven’t.  I have, since this all started again two months ago, determined that this sucks.  It sucks hard.

As I sit in her room wearing my required mask, gloves, and paper gown I’m trying to reconcile the person in the bed with the strong woman who is quite possibly the greatest Mother in Law a person could ever have.  A tremendous champion of family and friend alike.  Hell, even her critifcisms are hidden gems of encouragement and self improvement.

This is the same woman?  When I snuck away from my girlfriend, drove over two hours to ask for her father’s permission to marry his daughter she walked back in the room, heard the ‘announcement’ and her first words were, “Don’t I have a say?” and proceeded to as me a slew of questions every one of which meant to make sure I knew what I was doing and that I was right for her daughter.

To any and everyone that has gone through this before that I may have said something along the lines of, “I’m so sorry.  I lost my Grandfather.  I know how hard this must be for you.” please now accept my apologies.  I see now that I must have come off as a total ass.  There is nothing in the world like this.  Nothing. This great lady was dancing around the house just a few months ago.  She had my two girls for over a month just this past summer along with other grandchildren at the same time and kept up with them all just fine.  Now here she is barely able to move more than her arms.  Now we’re discussing with doctor and staff nursing home options where the goal is comfort and quality of life versus treatment and recovery.

Comfort?  Quality of life?  How is this every going to be possible?  Who are we kidding? She’s been in the hosiptal bouncing in and out of the ICU unit for the better part of a month now.  No one deserves this as the final chapter of a great life.  No one.  Recent spinal surgery didn’t work.  Now the wound refuses to close.  What? Mcrcer infection now too?  Come on!!  Really?  Cancer wasn’t enough?

And to top it off, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Everyone is doing any and everything to keep busy.  Anything to give us something more to think about aside from Mom dying from cancer.  It’s the most we can do.  It’s impossible not to think about what’s happening to Mom.

I’m doing the dishes — Mom’s dying from cancer.

I’ll take the kids to the store — Mom’s dying from cancer.

I’ve got a client meeting at 3 — Mom’s dying from cancer.

Let me work on dinner — Mom’s dying from cancer.

Happy Thanksgiving.  Do I have anything to be thankful for this year?  Yes.  I’m thankful for all the wonderful Thanksgivings we’ve had in the past and all wealth of time albeit too brief that I’ve had with my Mother in Law, and all my family and friends.  I’ll be honest though and say I’m not having a great Thanksgiving this year and depending on how life plays out this holiday may forever be tinged with sadness.

But right now I’m sitting in this hospital room with my in-laws.  Actually, I’ve respectfully turned my back while the nurses tend to my Mom and thinking:

This paper gown is too tight, and every time I exhale through this surgical mask my glasses fog up — Mom’s dying from cancer.

This fake wooden door has 95 wood rings on it — Mom’s dying from cancer.

- Orion