So much has happened since I last wrote. For starters, my husband left the first week of October to take a job in Antarctica (March of the Penguins) as a crane operator for 5 months. When he applied for the position, he said it was an adventure of a lifetime and I said "then you should go" even though it meant he would be gone for our birthdays (a day apart), our wedding anniversary (the day between our birthdays), Thanksgiving, Christmas and Valentine's Day. He has sent me some amazing pictures and recently started posting a day-by-day entry of life at the bottom of the world, complete with pictures that you can see and read about on Ice: My life on Ice. This picture is from "Happy Campers" (survival training). That's him posing in front of the igloo he and two of his buddies built.It's been lonely without him but I have been coping. It left me with more time to spend with my mom who was sick and in the hospital since 27 September. Monday through Friday I would leave the office by 1pm and head to the hospital so we could eat together, keep her company and give my stepdad a break. He would come back by 8-9pm so I could go home to take care of my two dogs and cat, go through the paperwork I brought home from the office, take a call from my husband, and finally get a little shut eye. 6am the next morning I'd be back at the office until it was time to leave for hospital again.
The weekends were long. Saturday at hospital by 9am. Home by 10pm. Sunday, Qigong class at 8am, then back to hospital until evening. On the weekends, Dad took the opportunity to take care of the things that had to be done - bills, grocery shopping, laundry, etc., but he always came back to spend the night with mom.
27 October. Mom came came home. It was my birthday and was the best present I could have. She was more comfortable and it was also a little easier knowing she was home. I would bring along one of the dogs to visit with her. I cooked, we talked, laughed, shared secrets, hopes and dreams. She told me the story of when I was born.For two weeks, we tried to get back to a normal life. Mom seemed to be doing better but she was tired. Her meds were taking their toll, dialysis now almost impossible. Dad had her rushed back to the hospital. After lapsing into unconsciousness, two code blues, a consultation with the doctors and three phone calls from my husband, Dad and I agreed to take mom off the respirator. Twenty-three minutes later she died with the two of us by her side.
On that day, I became a grownup.
