What kind of title do you give an entry like this?

Yesterday morning, I was feeling pretty good. I had received no phone call, I had finished a few work projects and my cold was going away. I started to get ready when I received a phone call from my grandmother. She informed me that she received a phone call from the hospital and that my mother had gotten worse. Still having my cold, I knew I couldn't visit her, but I told my grandmother to call me if anything happened.

I left for work and stopped at the drugstore and then my mind actually kicked into gear. I started thinking about how my grandmother sounded and realized that the situation did not look good. I rushed back home, picked up my laptop, and called my boss. I figured if anything happened, I didn't want to be so much as 5 minutes away from the hospital.

I arrived at the hospital and walked to ICU. I walked up to her room, figuring I'd find my grandmother and aunt there, but all I found was a nurse standing by my mom's bedside and holding her hand. I spoke to another nurse who was actually assigned to my mother, and she told me that my mother was doing much worse and that my mother didn't have much longer. I asked about my cold and the she told me to just put a mask on and go ahead in.

I put on the surgical mask and greeted the nurse standing by my mother's bed. Her name was Pam and in the short time my mother had been in the hospital, they had grown close. She repeated over and over again how glad she was that I was there then left me alone with my mother.

I walked to her bedside and was astounded at horrible she looked. It could have been worse. She had only a few tubes and a large oxygen mask, but she couldn't speak and her breath was shallow and quick. I didn't know what to do or say for the first few minutes. I just held her hand and smoothed her hair. Then I told her that I loved her. And tried to muster up all my strength not to cry in front of my mother. Unfortunately I failed that one small task.

Within about 10 minutes, my aunt and grandmother arrived. I moved aside so that my grandmother, more importantly her mother, could hold her hand and be there for her. You could tell she was aware of what was going on, but she couldn't respond.

The doctor arrived. He gathered us outside and started talking about how there was really nothing else they could do. After everything she had been through, the leukemia had finally done her in. We could choose to try dialysis but it would only prolong things by maybe a week...if she survived the procedure at all. The focus now was to keep my comfortable for what remaining time she had. According to the doctor she had a day, maybe two at the most.

After who knows how long, I walked outside to make the obligatory phone calls. I called my brother, and I called my two closest friends. R came over for his lunch and kept me company until K could arrive. I was amazed at not only how quickly they came, but that they were just there in the first place. They never fail to amaze me everyday.

K and I walked back upstairs and after a few minutes my aunt and grandmother rushed to my mother's side. After a moment I caught on. This was it. All of her vital stats were saying that in the next few moments, my mother would be gone.

We gathered close, and I held my mothers hand in those last few moments. She looked horrible. Not like my mom at all. I leaned down to where her eyes were focused and then after a moment I realized...they weren't focused at all. They were blank. My mother was gone.

We stepped back from the bed and held eachother. Looking at what remained of my mother. He body still twitched with what seemed like signs of life, but apparently it was just remnants of what the machines had done for her all this time. It was a filthy trick of nature and while I knew my mother was gone, those twitches still wanted me to hold out faith.

They eventually walked us into "the room". That special room they reserve for family members for a patient who had just deceased. The phone wasn't working and the table was wobbly. A woman rushed in and gave us a packet of information. It included a brief paragraph or two on grieving and what to do with the body. After deliberating awhile, we finally decided to have my mom's body cremated.

Everything after that was a mix of emotions. We went to Macayos. We ate. We talked. And then we went home. That night I had a few drinks and more food with a couple of close friends from Toastmasters. Then K and I went to Wal-Mart. While I was there I decided to purchase something to commemorate my mother's passing away. I decided on earrings that were my mother's birthstones...blue topaz. And then I purchased a necklace for my grandmother in the same color. We stopped by her house and checked on her. She seemed to be holding up fine.

When I got home and went to bed, I spied out of the corner of my eye a ceramic figurine my mom had made. It was two angels, one a woman and the other a child. My mother had painted it so the adult angel had brown hair and the younger, red. It signified my mother and I. I yanked it out, and held it for a moment. Then told my mother one last goodbye and that I loved her.

I cried a few moments and then pulled out my bible. After reading for a few moments, I thought about my mom and where she is now. And realized that she was in a much better place. And that she would be very upset if she saw how sad I was. Then I made a conscious decision to be happy for my mom. That I knew she wouldn't suffer anymore and that she really was in a better place. We had spoken about it before. We both had agreed that as Christians we felt death should be celebrated. It should be a joyous time.

Everytime I think of my mom now, I think of her reunited with old loved ones and being surrounded by extreme love and light. And then I think about the question my best-friend posed right after she had passed, "I wonder how many cats your mom's being reunited with right now?"