my mom

My mom is old and in the process of dying. Tomorrow, Thursday, I am scheduled to fly to Albuquerque to attend a "black-tie optional" function at night for the grand opening the next day of a new nuclear technology museum. On Friday, after touring the museum for a few hours, I'll fly back home.

I hope my mom will be all right while I'm gone. Today I received a phone call from her caregiver, who was frantic because the previous night had been tough on my mom. The caregiver is Polish, and I don't speak much Polish. All I know is that it was a tough night, which means my mom was struggling for breath and was in pain. My mom has what is called end-stage heart disease, so however long she's got on this earth, it's guaranteed that she's not going to get better, like someone with pneumonia might recover.

About five years ago I had to go to New Orleans for work. Upon my return to Chicago, as soon as my plane touched down at the airport, I turned on my cell phone and learned that my mom had suffered a heart attack and stroke. She has been living on borrowed time ever since. I think that, at least according to how the doctor spoke to my brothers and me five years ago, she was supposed to be dead back then. That she has survived this long is some sort of miracle.

She has had incidents over the past five years---gasping for breath, lungs filling with fluid---where we thought she was a goner. But she has always bounced back. I am hoping that she does the same thing this time, yet I know she is living on borrowed time. I am just hoping that nothing happens while I am gone in Albuquerque. I would hate to lose my mom while I was away. When her time comes, I hope I have time to say a final good bye. She is my mom, and I will miss her, and I love her. It's a tough part of life, this part about dying.