A Piece of Cake
ONE YEAR AGO to this very date, my sister and Mom travelled on a medical mini airplane from the Dominican Republic to Philadelphia. Mom was quite sick and at the end stage of a terminal state. I remember when the ambulance, which met them at the airport, arrived in the ER at Lankenau, for a moment, I almost did not recognize my Mom, as her face and eyes were so sunken, and she had lost a lot of weight. We spent a few days together with her at the hospital while arranging hospice care and round the clock care in my home. She needed to sleep. A LOT. It was a terribly tender and sad time, and the reality was more and more clear each day and each night that passed.
All of her functioning was shutting down, little by little, but rapidly. We did everything we humanly could to keep her as comfortable as possible, as the inevitable drew closer and closer. Two days before she took her last breath, we celebrated her 85th birthday. My Mom LOVED her sweets, and a good piece of cake. I recall how emotional I felt when I put a very small morsel of cake in her mouth and her mouth did not budge. She had already stopped eating, and almost ceased drinking as well. We treated her like a queen and she died peacefully. She looked so beautiful even at the very end. I miss her in many ways but mostly, hearing her voice and holding her hand, brushing her hair, and lighting Shabbos candles together. She lives in my heart and soul always.
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