Hi minifig,
I'm so sorry you have to go through this, and for your mother.
I can't give you any good advice, but I can tell you how it went for my dad.
My dad died of a prostate cancer in September '05. He'd hid it for a long time. He always hated going to doctors. He'd almost lost a leg a couple of years earlier due to type 2 diabetes, but that taught him nothing. By the time he had it tested it was too late.
My brother, who'd been a building labourer in London, had returned home, to Ireland, to take care of him and my mother, who had Alzheimer's and died six months after my father, and he did a very good job of it, letting both of them to stay at home until a day or two before the end. That was the most important thing, I think, that they could stay at home and be cared for by one of us. It was hard, painful work for my brother though, my dad was like a bag of bones at the end, and my mum had really lost her mind by the time she passed away.
We buried them where they wanted to be buried, and everyone came, and we cried a lot. We think about them a lot. I wish I asked them more while they were still there. I especially wish I'd asked my mum some things before she started to slip away. Too late now. |