A Month Ago...

My last day with Mom was a month ago. It was a quiet day. A long day. It started with me on the phone to airlines trying to get Andy home. When that was taken care of, I went in and sat beside Mom and that's where I stayed for most of the day. Mom's friend Sarah and our pastor came and sat with us. We talked casually about Dad's airforce days, and Carolyn's growing fast. We cried. I played some music for Mom. Carolyn played in her room. I found out for the first time that the doctor's didn't even think she would be able to have kids....

The nurse's aide came over and gave Mom a bath that afternoon and used Lavender and Chammomile bath soap.

I said in my other blog once before Mom died, that the smell of Carolyn after a bath with Lavender and Chammomile bath soap was the smell of heaven...

So, I guess I was right.

(Even so, I can't use the stuff for Carolyn anymore. The smell of heaven makes me sick to my stomach now)

We waited knowing it would be soon, and I was suprised that she didn't leave us that day. Andy got there, and said hello to Mom, and we sat a while longer. I kissed her good night, told her I loved her and then went to sleep.

Only a month ago... It still feels so new, and so very, very raw. I feel like a month should give me the feeling of some distance. But it doesn't. Not at all.