A Harder, Better Goodbye
更難卻更好的永別
Mother complained of a pain in her ribs.
我母親曾抱怨她的肋骨疼。
She was a yoga lover, an ocean swimmer, a woman who at 72 looked ten years younger.
她是瑜伽愛好者,海洋游泳運動員,她72歲,但是看上去要年輕十歲。
She thought she had pulled a muscle. But the pain refused to go away.
她本以為是肌肉拉傷了,然而疼痛持續了很長時間也沒有消退。
Tests revealed that cancer had moved to her ribs and spine.
測試結果顯示,癌癥已經轉移到她的肋骨和脊柱。
She and my father had been planning summer vacation.
之前我父母還在計劃暑假出游。
Now they were planning the remaining months of her life.
現在卻在討論如何度過她生命的最后幾個月。
She made it clear she did not want to remain in the hospital. She wanted to go home.
母親明確表示不想待在醫院,她想回家。
Hospice, we were told, could help us care for Mom at home.
我們被告知,臨終關懷組織可以幫助我們在家照顧母親。
Suddenly hospice became the center of our lives.
突然間臨終關懷成了我們生活的中心。
A few times a week the hospice staff—doctor, nurses, social worker—would visit our home,
臨終關懷的醫生,護士,社會服務人員每周會來幾次,
making sure Dad and I could handle the bedpans, the pain killers and the reality of Mom's dying.
確認父親和我能處理好便盆,止痛藥以及接受我母親將要離世的事實。
March, April, May. Each month, each week, each day was a diminishment.
三月,四月,五月。每個月,每個星期,日子一天天地減少。
Mom was confined to downstairs, then to her bedroom, then to her bed.
母親一開始還能下樓,逐漸只在臥室里走動,最后只能躺在床上。
Dad brushed her hair. I read to her. We examined family photo albums.
父親幫母親梳頭,我讀書給母親聽。我們一起看相冊集,
As we flipped through these Kodak moments of life now drawing to a close,
翻閱那些用柯達相機定格的過往瞬間,而在一起的時光不久就要結束了,
I would comfort myself: At least we are home.
但是我還是安慰自己,至少現在我們都在家里。
Our biggest fear was that Mom would experience unbearable pain. But she did not. Painkiller helps.
我們最害怕的事情是母親可能會經受難以忍受的疼痛。幸好有止痛藥,我們不用害怕。
It was in those last days that hospice was of particular help.
那些日子,臨終關懷給我們帶來了特別的幫助。
I had not seen anyone die before; I did not know what to do.
我過去沒有親眼看過誰離開人世,那一刻我完全不知道能做什么。