My mother died one year ago today. The last cogent thing she said to me was "Please... a cold drink."
That was four days before the end. She was desperately thirsty but could only be given this 'thickened' water, which was like clear gelatin. Because water made her vomit. And she was already dehydrated.
I remember the last spoonful of that shit dribbling down her chin. And the nurses. I will always remember the nurses. They were brilliant. Like the sisters I never had. Like the daughters my mother would have loved.
Thank you, ladies. Always.
8 months ago