Rebuilding Rob

Thanks to Eric Fulton for this writing prompt. Eric is the geo- tracking mastermind of Eric Fulton’s blog. If you haven’t seen his blog yet, check it out!

What responsibility did you assume would magically disappear by now?

This is going to be something of a dark confession. In fact, it’s going to sound downright morbid. But one responsibility that I assumed would have magically disappeared by now is Mother. (For the sake of this blog, I refer to my mom as Mother as an homage to Norman Bates’s mother from the movie Psycho.)

The Coca-Cola Viscosity

Just over a year ago, right around MLK Day 2025 to be exact, Mother went into the hospital with a urinary tract infection. At the time, her COPD was also flaring up so she was not expelling enough carbon dioxide from her lungs. As a result, they had to put her on a BiPAP machine.

I’m not exaggerating at all when I say that we thought we were going to lose her that weekend. My siblings and I were making numerous trips to the hospital each day. As my sister, Phred, has power of attorney, she was consulting with Guillaume and me regarding medical questions like DNR (do not resuscitate) mandates. I remember seeing the catheter receptacle on the wall in the hospital. The fluid inside had the viscosity of Coca-Cola, but it was even darker than the soda. I’m fairly certain her body was already going into sepsis from the UTI.

Moving into “Death Row”

After a few days, she showed signs of improvement. When she was released, she went to a rehab facility for a few weeks, and from there, she returned to her assisted living center—only this time, she was moved into the memory care unit due to her dementia.

When they first moved her into memory care, they put her literally at the end of the hall. I jokingly referred to the area as “Death Row,” as there was another man across the hall who died within two weeks of moving in. I assumed they put her there because they didn’t think she was going to survive very long. After a few months, Mother was feeling lonely at the end of that hall, so we arranged to move her to a more central location. Even though she doesn’t really leave her room or her bed, she is now right off the common area.

Wildfires and Slow Fades

This is her life now. But when we first took her back to assisted living, I truly did not think she would be alive in six months, let alone a year. Mother’s resilience astounds me. I believe she is afraid of death—perhaps even terrified of it. I don’t know if she’s worried about her faith or the existence of an afterlife, but she clings to life with a desperate strength.

Her long-term suffering stands in stark contrast to the way “The Old Man” passed. It was almost exactly four months from the day my father went into the hospital until the day he died. Cancer spread through his body like a wildfire. As difficult as it was to process how quickly it happened, I wouldn’t want to be living the quality of life Mother is living right now.

Closing the Loop

Because of the seriousness of her condition when she returned to the facility, Phred and I made a point of visiting her every single day. Aside from major commitments or work events, one of us has been there every day for the last year and some change.

We aren’t there every day because we’re saints. We’re there because I’ve learned the cost of missing the final window. When the Old Man passed, I was living away from home; I wasn’t in the room. This time, I’m refusing to leave any words unsaid or any presence unaccounted for. We are choosing to see this journey through to the final mile, making sure there’s no “what if” left when the hum finally goes silent.

Today’s post is inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt. While I’ve taken the topic in my own direction for the Road to 1,000 Days, you can find more responses to today’s prompt HERE.

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The article “The Responsibility of The Long Goodbye” first appeared Rebuilding Rob