Walking through my parent's house tonight, I stopped in the kitchen . Mom often complained of the lack of counter space there. As I looked at the kitchen, I thought of all the meals she prepared in there, all the times she helped me make cookies for the county fair, all the late night conversations we'd have standing in that room. I think every room in the house has similar memories (okay, I didn't bake cookies in every room, but you get the idea). As I looked at the decorations in the kitchen (apple theme) I realized that the kitchen probably won'r change much - if at all - after Mom's death. The curtains, the clock, the cabinet door pulls, the switch plare... all will remain what they are now - what Mom (sometimes with Dad's help in painting, putting stuff up) did with the room.

Going up the stairs tonight, I cam across two Halloween figurines Amy and I had picked up at the first Riverboat Days we went to for Mom. Dad told me he'd missed getting them stored away when he took down the other Halloween stuff and added that he's been unable to find the Thanksgiving decorations. Mom has several storage bins with decorations for each major holiday and some other seasonal stuff. I'm going to miss Mom adding to those collections. I think (hope) that Dad will continue to rotate some of those things from season to season for awhile - he's always helped Mom do it before and has had a year now to be the primary one doing it. It'll be bittersweet to walk into the house and see Mom's decorations up. Nice in that it is still my home - still the place where I grew up. It will be a twist of the knife to know that the stuff will never be added to (trust me, I don't see Dad as being someone who'll start to hit Christmas stores for new decorations).

Mom continues to deteriorate, even though there is little left TO deteriorate. She's down to 110 lbs., 50 lbs. lighter than a month ago. She needs Dad's help to get to the bathroom. She's not had any substantial food for about 37 days, nothing other than some small sips of water in about the last 7 days. She still recognized me, but the light just isn't in her eyes. It is as though she's been dead for the last few weeks but has been forced to remain in that body. I prayed that God would take her. Dad said yesterday that Mom felt cool to the touch for much of the day. He added that the hospice nurse said Mom would likely be gone before Veteran's Day.

An aside on hospice - the nurses have been great, but there was a new one over tonight. I caught a definite odor of tobacco and she had the voice of a smoker. If your job was to take care of people dying of cancer, why in the fuck would you continue to voluntarily put a carcinogen into your body? Wouldn't seeing someone in agony and seeing their family in agony be enought to get a person to quit? More proud than ever of my parents that they were able to quit smoking (Mom first, Dad about 10 yrs. later) and do so basically through will power. Guess if I have that runing through me, I should be able to stick to an exercise routine if I put my mind to it.

Dad lost his re-election bid to the town council, 79-74. I think he's been on the council since before I was born. He helped guide the town through rebuilding after tornadoes (including the F5 in 1992), fires, and the gas explosion last winter that damaged most of the buildings in the town. Dad said he's relieved to be off and that he'd considered not running. I know he liked being on the council and doing what he could to make the town better. Maybe this is God's way of cutting him from a few of the things tying him to the town so he'll have less holding him there if he decides to move (not likely, but who knows). Looking at the roads, the parks, even the fact the elementary school closed and the town council managed to get a business in there rather than being stuck with an empty building. The guy who beat my dad is the little brother of a girl I'd dated my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. He was a little prick and I doubt things have changed much. I can recall putting him in a full nelson at one point and telling him that if he continued to screw with me, I'd get him back in the hold and apply pressure until I heard things pop. If I find out he used Mom's illness in any way against Dad in the election, I will find him and make good on that promise.

Saw the memory books Mom had been working on for Mark and me. Mine is only (and will remain) half done. She told me when she came home from the hospital a month ago that the book would likely not get done and suggested I talk with Mark about getting copies of his. I'll have to see if he'll be agreeable to this - don't think it'll be a problem. I glanced at a couple of pages and have a feeling that I'm going to miss not having the book done, but will treasure forever what she managed to finish for me.