It was when I was looking for hand towels in the cupboard that everything really hit me hard. Mom is going to die and never coming back. Tears came at once. The memories of her around the house, the way she fits into those memories and now with only her absences there, I couldn't bear it. Something was so poignant and powerful about that, it made me really feel what love and family and death were at that moment. I could not have prepared myself for this. All my pessimism and forecasting and anticipation did nothing to prepare me. This is real.
Dad spent the night at the hospital with her. I'm worried I won't be able to care for her tomorrow when I'm the only one there. I'm not up to the task.
The memory of me feeling annoyed with her and dad when dad got her a shirt with the ink security clasp still on it, and me not helping her take it off, and she coming to show me after she got it off, that will haunt me forever. Out of everything, that's rising to the top.
The other is her mentioning the time we got lost taking the bus in the rain to the dentist to pull some of my teeth. She said it was really sad that time, with the two of us, wet, trying to find our way. It was pathos. The part that gets me really sad is that there was no real resolution to that story. It would be something if we were talking about it after the fact, like when I got married and had a kid, or some other different state of things. But I am still very much that kid in the rain.