This was a sign I noticed the first night at Hospice, as soon as we walked in. I sorta wanted to accidentally relocate it to Mitzi’s door, but it was obviously placed in a permanent position (not that I actually would have done that, of course!).
How perfect these words are because they are so true. And so very fitting. Running into this sign was the moment I knew, without a doubt that night, that Gary had made the very hard, but definitely very right decision in transferring Mitzi.
I’ve been down this road before—making the decision to surrender the fight in favor of peace. I know for a fact that once you get to the end of that hard road, it’s easy to let your mind trick you into second guessing all of your decisions. Especially when, on rare occasions, someone makes a simple statement or comment that leaves you wondering if there could have been another way for this to play out. (*Please note: Don’t be that person. Seriously. It’s not nearly as helpful as you might think. ????) Gary and I had a moment talking at Hospice one day when I reminded him that if ever a single thought like that creeped into his mind, to shut it down immediately because this was absolutely the right decision for her now. Quality of life had disintegrated to next to nothing and, for the first time in our friendship, I could honestly and heartbreakingly admit that Mitzi was suffering. And we all felt helpless to do anything.
While it seemed to be slow going in the midst of it, now that it’s over, the time seemed like there was but a mere split second between when we started the morphine at home late Monday night, September 9th, and that moment at 8:25am Monday morning the 23rd when Gary and I watched as another breath no longer proceeded the one before it.
In fact, for me, the last 3 years, logging thousands of hours with Mitzi, seemed like it was condensed into a tiny span of time, not 3 years of my life. It really hit home tonight when I was out shopping for a shirt and purple tie for my oldest son, who was 10 when he first met Ms. Mitz, as he called her. Picking up a Men’s size medium dress shirt made me catch my breath as I realized that close to 1/4 of Conner’s life was impacted by the trail of beautiful memories of her presence in it.
The disjointed point I’m trying to make is that if we aren’t spending the time with the beautiful souls that have been placed in our lives, we miss out on the beautiful memories. The time in this life for all of us, not just at the end, goes so very fast.
Make sure you are making the most out of the moments so they become beautiful memories…
