My mother is dying and I am constipated.  A few minutes ago,  I sat on a hospital toilet begging God to take my mother and please let me shit.  These two things would be simple kindnesses from Him. At the very least if He is going to keep her alive any longer please tell me why.  I am "person of faith" so I do expect an answer eventually.  Earlier today I had the same thought.  "There is no purpose for her discomfort, why don't You take her?" And then she rallied and absolutely everyone was here to give her love.  I think she took most of it in, but she is very confused now, so I'm not certain.  Seeing her in a confused  state is the most distressing thing about watching your mother die.

Two weeks ago, she was a rheumatoid arthritis patient with some breathing problems and I was a working mother living in the land of the right angle: Phoenix, Arizona.  Her RA doctor sent her to a pain specialist and he immediately sensed that something was wrong.  She then became a hospital patient with an undetermined lung problem. 

One week ago, she became a lung cancer patient with six to eight months to live.  She and my father started planning.  We are an entire family of planners.  We all naively clung to the belief that death, too, could be planned.  My parents mapped out everything necessary for the future and spent several days reviewing the past.  Fifty-two years of marriage and three children.  The laughter in our house was fairly constant and often frightenly loud to the uninitiated.

Two days ago her ability to absorb oxygen diminished precipitously and I got on a plane to Alabama.  When I got here she was hosting a large party and the laughter was as loud as ever.  There was some thought that she might last weeks.  I said as much as I could remember to say from my hastily composed list of "shit you want your mother to know  before she dies."

First and foremost,  I told her that she was a fantastic mother.  And to be a good mother is not a complicated thing.  But it is damned hard work.  My mother made it known to all of her children that there was nothing that could ever separate them from  her love.  In our individual ways we all put this promise to the test.  And she made good on it. My testimony is this:  THE UNFLINCHING LOVE OF A MOTHER WILL TAKE YOU VERY FAR IN THIS WORLD.

 Her love will take you so far that you can even say goodbye to her knowing that you will muster the strength to go on.  And that was the second item on the list.  Please don't worry about me.  My life is blessed beyond anything I ever could have imagined.  You got me to this place.  Your work is done. Please stop suffering.

 I told her, "Thank You."  I was raised in the South.  When you are grateful you express it.

 I apologized for wasting time with petty fights.  Like the time I tried to throw her out of my house.  I had just moved to California and barely knew my way around town.  She was willing to be tossed out if only I would direct her to the nearest bus stop.  In my ignorance, I couldn't oblige, so we were forced to patch things up.

 I made a promise or two that may be hard to keep.  She was very concerned about my oldest brother.  He is one of those people who habitually drift in and out of trouble.  He is very hard to love and even harder to respect.  I promised to do my best.

 She wanted to make sure his daughter was kept in the fold.  She is a responsible, loving 24-year-old who is not only easy to love, but fun to hang out with.  Only my own laziness would cause me to let her drift away from us.  Shame on me if that happens.

 I told her I would raise my two daughters the way she raised me.  I will love them without fail.  When I am tempted to stop, I will remember her.

 Tonight she is very weak.  I will never have a meaningful conversation with my mother again. That is a gut-wrenching reality, my friends. My mother never much cared for scatalogical humor.  If I knew she was going to live to see it, I could not post the first paragraph above.  But she is not going to live to see it.