The Chaplet

"For the sake of His sorrowful passion." 

"Have mercy on Amante, on us, and on the whole world."

Ten times.  Five rounds.  Using the rosary.  

And prayers in between.  Prayers that the Sisters of Charity failed to teach me in my thirteen years of all-girls Catholic school.  Lucky for me, I still know how to pray the rosary.

Every morning, 10am, with Henry, the Eucharistic minister from Our Lady of Mercy.  A senior volunteer, he comes to pray with Dad and offer him communion. Today, he brought an elderly Filipina friend, Matilda, to pray with us too. It's usually Henry, Donna (the nurse's assistant who happens to be Filipina too), Mom and me for 30-45 minutes praying The Chaplet.  

I've usually had turbo hot Dunkin Donuts coffee by then. (DD is located just two blocks away from my parents' home, so it's a short walk.)

Dad is no longer communicating verbally.  He slept through the entire day today.  His breathing can sometimes be labored.  Mom has stopped force feeding him and is relying more on the Comfort Kit. Sometimes.    

Mom has been concerned that Dad is no longer passing urine or moving his bowels.  His sugar remains high. (Mom still tests it three times a day.)  She consulted with the hospice nurse and asked if she should give Dad an additional shot of insulin.  The nurse responded, that's to be expected.  No need to worry.

Mom cries silently.  No loud or deep sobbing.  Just quiet crying.  

When we have to move Dad (sometimes he looks uncomfortable or just to prevent any bed sores), Mom asks Dad to put his arms around her neck so that she can more easily lift him.  He used to be able to do that.  Put his arms around her.  

When Dad was still verbal but fading somewhat, Mom asked him to kiss her.  And Mom lovingly kissed Dad lips to lips.  It was a comforting and desperate kiss. Just one more kiss.

Mom is in despair.  

I worry.  

Dad is dying comfortably.  And I am relieved. 

Every time I check in on Dad (probably every 10-15 minutes), I say a short prayer. Please die quickly and peacefully.  Soon.  Please.  

[Meditation is helping.  Deep breaths.  So are the walks in Bayonne Park.  Not completely insane yet. Just tired.]

Family & friends:  Thank you once again for your thoughtful and encouraging prayers. Your love & support mean so much to us.  And we send out heartful intentions to you too, that your woes may not be too heavy & that you take the time to experience life's wonder every day.