Restless and distraught yesterday, she felt trapped. Solace came as she finally found sleep in the evening. It is the middle of today and still she sleeps, her eyebrows raising in question to visions I am not meant to know.
It is not quite 4 years of monumental effort to stave off the onslaught of cancer. She has lived longer than Western medicine allows, pulled along with German tenacity and rivers of love.
Of the many lessons this collective journey has afforded, one lies bold in its edict~ learn to honor and support the choices of another. My comfort lies in homeopathic sensibilities, hers in traditional. We've held hands through the maze of traditional.
Now we are here, honoring and supporting her choice, her hope to die at home. The lessons of this, the daily ice water shocks of decline have shivered me to my core. Reverse birthing, I call it. And it is the greatest privilege of my life.