COMING TOGETHER--11

I have been think about my mother's life and death. Her body is not supporting her own life; she does not get any better when she eats. I am reviving her body once a day and then she slumps again that night.

I wonder if the morning will come when I must decide to revive her or not I do not want that decision; I want God to take her life before that happens. I won't feel morally guilty but it will excavate something from me which will never come back.

It is too close to determining her life and death. And that has sunk my heart. I can't say I am not affected by this. It may be the, you must lose your life to find it. I do not look forward to the morning when I must decide to stop feeding her or stop making her get up.

She may ask me to stop. Should I keep this to myself? Could I ever keep this to me?

Would it a form of death upon me if I did let her go?

I think maybe it is. Attachments are painful, yet they are what we have. The only thing I can think of to alleviate this is God. I have been up this night, staring at the stars, the blank night. I know I have done what is right before now but I don't have what is out there now.

It makes me wonder, in what way I am responsible for what comes tomorrow? Some sort of other responsibility, no doubt. I watch my mother breathe in her bed--like a child, yet at the end of life. A sneaking out, a door closing, a breath ending as it once began 92 years ago.