Two weeks ago my mother-in-law Susan died after an arduous six-month struggle with lymphoma. My husband and I spent most of the month of April with her at the hospital, then at a beautiful hospice near our home. It’s been a terribly difficult, yet sweet time.
A few weeks ago Susan said, “When you can find the positive in the hospital, you’re doing well.” I can’t recall exactly what we were discussing at the time, but it’s true. Sometimes the only comfort a day afforded was when I was able to be present to a moment of beauty, or being handed a warm blanket, or receiving encouragement from a nurse. Despite all the intensity, sadness, and exhaustion, what I’m left feeling most is gratitude for the support, gifts, and care we received from family, friends, colleagues, and medical staff. And for the love extended to us.
I miss Susan. I remember an afternoon when we were sitting outside on her porch at the hospice, she in her wheelchair and me sitting next to her, clipping her fingernails. It was one of her last lucid days. We didn’t say anything; we were content together in the warm sun.
