The conversation

It was so cold today. Much like the last few, the frigid air and wind whipped right through my layers of winter clothes. It is very similar to the weather then, when I made that trek to see her. I parked my Belfor F-150 in the parking lot of the hospital, put on my knit hat and gloves and battled the freezing cold to the main entrance. Up the elevator and to her room, I found my Dad sitting in the chair beside her bed. She was resting in the hospital bed, the back raised so she was almost sitting upm I told my father he needed to get some sleep, and he went home. At that time I had the last one on one meaningful conversation I had with her. Well at least the last while she was alive. Many times I have sat by her headstone asking her advice. But that's for another blog.

I asked how she was feeling, she told me that was a silly question. We talked about what the doctors said, the possibility of surgery and what I would say to the boys. Then she said something that made my heart dropped. "I was at least hoping to outlive my mother". My grandma had passed at age 56, so at 54 Mom had already thought about the parallel. I shot back at her. "Don't do that" I said. "Do what?" she asked. "Give up. People hear the word cancer and give up Mom. When was the last time you heard someone dying of cancer who didn't know they had it" She sat quiet for a moment, then told me she wasn't giving up, simply trying to be realistic. We continued talked for more than an hour about a lot of things, from Tanner's upcoming birthday to my job. Eventually she fell asleep and I fiddled on my phone until my sister came to take the next shift.

That conversation happened 2 years ago today. We still had 28 days with her, but it was the last time she and I were able to talk with no interruptions or distractions. I am so glad we had the chance to do so.

Good Night All...