Yes, it's been a few weeks again. The few weeks have been busy, and they have been trying. I went from just being physically drained, to also being emotionally drained as well. It's amazing how one can function when on autopilot. Within a two week I was due to accumulate about one hundred and forty hours at work, with just a few days off between shifts. Suddenly last weekend I received notice my mother had been taken to the hospital; though the details led me to hope for the lesser of two possibilities. My mother always took good care of herself, so one was not being foolish to hope for something related to the heat of the day. I still considered the worse case scenario, but hoped against it. My hopes were dashed shortly after arriving at the hospital, and I personally observed the situation and heard the diagnosis of the doctors. The confirmation came, it was a stroke. Though her symptoms didn't lead me to believe it was severe, she spoke clearly, moved all extremities well, and even knew who we were. Still, it was a serious situation. The doctor spoke of performing a procedure to remove the clot, restoring the blood flow. We felt comfortable, believing this would go well, and she'd be restored with minimal impairment. However, as things sometimes go, it didn't go according to plan. The doctors tried repeatedly to remove the clot, but it would go, it only broke apart a little and the majority of it stayed in place -- refusing to be removed. After entering the ICU she was all but out. Not speaking, not moving all her extremities as before, but we were assured that this might just be temporary as a result of the procedure. The next day revealed no change in this, and a second attempt to remove the clot was requested, and agreed upon. After all, this was our mother, and we wanted to do what we believed was the best for her. Again, the procedure yielded no results. The first clot didn't move. And yes, I said first clot. This means, as they confirmed, there was also a second clot now. Two cerebral arties were now all but, if not completely blocked. This was significant and life altering. Things had gone from bad to worse. Our hopes were certainly dashed, but we had faith that a miracle could happen. Later on am MRI was ordered to learn more details about the extent of the damage. This affirmed one thing, the situation was bleak. Aside from two clots and the damage from the lack of an oxygen supply, there was also now a sign of a hemorrhage. The doctors now left us with news that removed all hope, but not our faith. I don't think it ever wavered, we always hoped for the best, regardless of what that best now was. There were but two options remaining, surgery to only accommodate brain swelling, or palliative care. One meant prolonging the inevitable, and opening up to the possibility of months of risk for infection; the other bringing about a peaceful dignified outcome which was going to happen regardless of our actions. It wasn't a decision we made without thought or discussion, we knew wishes of our mother, and the latter was what she would have clearly chosen. It hadn't made the remaining days of her life any easier for us, though they were less painful and peaceful for her. Almost a full week after being notified of the initial event, the final resolution came. As I sat bedside, listening to her breathing came a sudden halt. About a minute later came a few more breaths. I rose to walk to the other side of her bed and began to talk to her. I don't recall everything now, but I know at some point I thanked her for being the mother she had been. I told her to not wait for our other sister who had refused to talk or see her for too many years, and brushed off attempted to get her to mends things before it was too late. I told her, that if she had to go, it was alright now. Her breathing still wasn't normal, and I wasn't expecting it to continue much longer. I told her to hang in while I fetch the nurse, which I set out to do quickly. I quickly returned to comfort her until the nurse came. I monitored her breathing, which seemed to continue being sporadic until it again stopped a final time moments before the nurse came in. She said she still heard something, but fetched another in the next room. By the moment they came back, anything which had been heard was now gone, confirming what I feared. Somewhere in the midst of those last few minutes I managed to call my family back to the hospital. We never expected this to happen as it did, there were no signs earlier that things would change so quickly; but they did. And here I am, recounting the trauma, the week I wish didn't exist. I can't go back and change a thing; but I can be thankful I had a mother as wonderful as I had. That I had one that up until the very end had been willing to sacrifice almost anything for us. Due to the nature of her stroke, we don't know if she even knew we were there, but we hope if she did, she was comforted by our voices and departed knowing we loved her and tried to follow her wishes. She was special, as I'm sure most people would say of their mothers. And we know that God, showed his amazing mercy by taking her back from us quickly and without suffering extensively. The world again feels different, and will always miss her not being a part of it.