Always and Forever

My mom is hanging on, but we have decided to stop anything but comfort measures.  The morphine she is on at first made her feel like she was floating in the waters of Narragansett Bay.  She said she was very serene and very happy.  Somewhat unfortunately now she is awake, restless and ordering us around.  "Before you get too comfortable, can I have a little water?  Can I have a napkin?  Can I have some ice cream?  I want some cranberry sauce.  Why are you treating me like a child?  Give me what I want."  Of course, we can't deny her anything now.  I had to make all of the horrible phone calls to her family.   They say that people about to pass usually have some moments of lucidity.  She has it in spades, and we are grateful.  In the meantime, we wait, we chat with her, we listen to her rambling stories and are grateful.  I love you Mom.  Always.