it's 5.30am Sunday morning

I just phoned the hospice and Mum is resting peacefully with Dad beside her holding her hand.

The last few days have been awful. Mum has deteriorated so very quickly. Last Sunday she was up and dressed and spent several hours reading Miss 3 her story books - a perfectly normal Sunday. On Monday she was walking around the supermarket. By Wednesday she was not really getting out of bed anymore. Thursday morning when I went to visit she was just very very sleepy but having trouble remembering whether she'd taken all her pills or not and starting to worry that she didn't know what was best anymore. Friday morning she woke very disoriented and was admitted to the Hospice about lunch time for, at that stage, a few days to get her pain meds etc under control. I saw her Friday evening and, although she recognised me, she struggled to say what she was really trying to say and would get lost in the middle of the sentence.

Yesterday (was it really only yesterday?) I picked my brother P up from the airport and after dropping his bags at Mum and Dad's we went straight to the hospice, our sister Sh getting there from Christchurch only a few minutes before us. Mum spent all of yesterday just sleeping, although sometimes when we spoke to her she would 'hm' in response and her eyes would open. About lunch time I came home to give the baby a milk feed and get some food and cuddle Miss 3 and Dad went down to the lounge for a break. P was with Mum when she suddenly sat up and asked for a drink of water. He helped her have a drink and when he told her he loved her she looked at him and said "I know, I love you too". Sh came back in from getting a drink in time to get a kiss too, and then they let Dad have some time alone with Mum while she was awake. So that's really really good that they got there in time to actually connect with Mum.

Then yesterday evening about 7pm we got a 'get here now' call from the hospice, so we all rushed in (Dad and my aunt were already there) and said our goodbyes, but she was quite peaceful and just kept on breathing. The Pastoral Assistant from our church came and spent some time with us, which was really good - the right thing at the right time for my Dad who had been anxious that Mum would die before the minister arrived. (Our vicar is on holiday this week. The Pastoral Assistant is a lovely santa-claus type man who had met Mum several times through her work). Dad stayed in the hospice overnight - they are absolutely marvelous there and set up a bed right beside Mum's for him. Today our other sister Ch and another brother T are driving through from Southland and Central to spend the day. Our brother E is in Oz and was over only a couple of weeks ago, and will be again at Christmas, so won't be over again this week. It is so so good that E and E got to spend some good time with Mum while she was well. I think that's much more important than being here right now.

The grief comes in waves and I'm learning to just roll with it when it comes. I am going to miss her so very very much.

But under it all I have a strong current of peace. The concept of heaven is all very intellectual until someone you love dies, and then it becomes very important indeed. As i saw in a wee poem in the sanctuary at the hospice - "It does us no harm to believe this". And, more than this, I know that Mum loved Jesus and that she's safe wherever she is. As for praying for healing, i realise that I have prayed for that for months and months, and that Monday's thing was about me coming to a point of letting go and leaving it up to God. I may go into the whys and wherefores of this at a later date but it's not important for me to do that now - what is important is that I go and cuddle my children and husband and get started with the day