3.9.22 Unknown

I type so many words, but none of them fit. There is a heavy weight inside my chest. Emotional exhaustion pulls me down. I can barely focus. 

Yet, there must be conversations. We must talk about supplies with homecare companies, about missing items and non-functioning equipment. There must be calls made to pharmacies, to doctors. Conversations about grief and end of life planning with the social worker. Discussions about possible infection symptoms with the hospice nurse. Evening open-heart confessions with a child. Early afternoon readings about other countries. Teaching of mathematics and spelling rules. Sunshine filled, late winter picnics and games of catch paired with monologues about mario games or lego creations. Moments of forgiveness and reconciliation after stress and grief have come out as anger. 

So much communication must happen. Such sweetness and bitterness. Such weight to hold and such freedom to only do what is most important. 

All I really wanted to communicate tonight out of all of this fog is that we are in an unknown. We are preparing our family and our affairs for the unbearable time when we have to say goodbye. We are also in hope that there will be another plateau of time where we can savor life together for longer. There is no timeline for this season. We do not know how long it will be. 

Aimee is changing up and down day by day. Since I last posted, she has had one wonderful day, a couple not great days, a couple okay, and two quite bad days. It is an up and a down. It is emotional. It is life. We are living it as best we can.