Blogging is likely going to be a thin after this post, barring a need for me to simply fill time. Yesterday evening, my mother, who has been in poor health for some time now, was admitted to the hospital. The docs aren't sure exactly what is wrong, but they believe an infection somewhere has turned septic. They've pumped her full of antibiotics and are providing supportive care, but in accordance with her wishes, no "heroic measures" will be employed to prolong her life.
She's in bad shape. From all I've ever seen, it doesn't look like she'll pull through this. Her blood pressure is steadily dropping, her body temperature is dropping, her breathing is labored and her consciousness is minimal.
Of course, we're spending a lot of time at the hospital. We're not staying 24 hours a day, but we're there most of it.
We've all known that this time would come, and probably sooner rather than later. We have placed her in God's care. If He is ready for her to come to Him, he'll take her. If she still has business on this earth, then she'll stay. It's that simple.
My Mom's a member of what has come to be known as "the greatest generation". She grew up during the Great Depression in West Virginia. She worked in a munitions factory in Baltimore, MD during WWII. After marrying my father, she worked in a bank until I was born, then she did that so typical thing (at least during those days), she stayed home to raise her son.
During that time, she did volunteer work at the various schools I attended, helped her neighbors and her family when they needed help, and ran the house while my Dad traveled to earn a living.
She had her 83rd birthday last week. She's lived a long life, and by most measures a pretty good one. While we all hope she will see her 84th, the odds are stacked against that.
See you all later.