On Wednesday morning, Evan lost his Grandma and I lost my mother. It's been a rough week.
I've been coming out to Colorado on and off all Spring to help my mother manage through a losing battle with metastatic lung cancer, diagnosed at age 70 in May 2006 (over a year ago). The worst part is that my mother has not smoked for 40 years.
This disease has no cure and life expectancies are very short - usually 4-6 months from diagnosis, if that. I did not expect to complete my adoption in time for my mother to become a grandmother, actually, and certainly did not expect to bring Evan for a visit as I did in May (pictures in my earlier post). Had I let my mother's diagnosis deter me from adopting so soon, my mother and I would not have had these experiences nor met the wonderful son I have.
About 2 weeks ago, I came out to help my mother move into an intensive care center operated by the Denver Hospice (I am indebted to them for their efforts in letting my mother pass away with great dignity). Her pain was out of control and needed some attention. I was able to get her settled in time to return home to LA. Things proceeded very quickly from there. It seems that once my mother's pain was being effecitvely managed, she began to let go quickly.
I returned to Denver last Saturday and was able to spend her last few days with her, in the company of my sister and aunt, who also flew in. I had seriously considered bringing Evan on this trip, to provide life and support as only children can. In retrospect am glad to have left him in good hands in LA as there has been so much to do here.
The last I saw my mother alive was Tuesday night. We left her resting peacefully in her beautiful private room, with the door open to the warm windy Colorado night. On the bulletin board was a picture Evan had drawn and dedicated to his Grandma. On the night stand were pictures of her children and grandchild. Under my mother's arm was her large teddy bear ("Alex"), which she asked to be given to Evan upon her passing.
