Mom is slowly slipping away. Though she opens her eyes occasionally, we can't tell if she recognizes or understands us. We treat her as though she understands. She is on a morphine drip, with occasional boosts as needed. The staff is compassionate beyond belief. They are tender with mom, and supportive of us. Tonight the kitchen delivered a "comfort tray:" coffee, tea, and cookies. Dad is doing reasonably well, and not just because someone brought in a Starbucks coffee cup with whiskey!! He is sad and sometimes tearful, but he, like all of us, wants Mom to be finished with her suffering, now a year and a half of pain. Your support has been tremendous. We know that you are sad with us, and we know we can ask for help from many of you. Angels, angels, angels . . . . . . .
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