[ WP ] Your dementia riddled mother has a brief period of lucidity just before she dies .

I've gotten used to the hospital smell. A lot of the memory from when mom was first diagnosed is a blur, so many things happening so fast, our status quo dismantled, but the smell I remember perfectly. With my dad unraveling, my older brother nowhere to be found, someone needed to take care of mom, so I moved home. Each time we went back to the hospital, there was that smell. Each appointment brought worse and worse news, and it got to the point where I'd developed a pavlovian response to the smell. We'd enter the hospital lobby, mom leaning on me for support, her frail hand gripping my arm, asking where we were going, and that smell would attach my olfactory nerves and I'd start to feel a tightness in my chest, sweat on my palms, my body already going into the high stress response mode that usually accompanied the smell. 
 
 
 Once mom was confined to the hospital, it became clear that there was n't any bad news left to give. The diagnosis was complete. It was basically a matter of time. And being here just about every day, I finally got used to it. Now it does n't fill me with dread, so much as a sense of despair. 
 
 
 I hope that it helps her. Being here, listening to her. But it's not clear that it even registers with her that I'm there, or even who I am. She goes on and on about the things that go through her mind. One minute she's telling me how proud she is of me for graduating from law school. Moments later she's asking me if I was nervous about starting college. She'd recollect about our family trips to Disneyworld. Or ask me what I thought about my brother's new girlfriend. 
 
 
 Listening to her breaks my heart because it's painfully clear just how much of her 83 years have been devoted to me and my brother. Dad worked, and mom had given up her career to take care of me and my brother. She had to spend more time than should have been expected, taking care of my brother, and by the time he had demonstrated his independence by taking off without so much as a note, it was too late for her to get back into the workforce, or do much else with her life. I urged her to travel, to make use of her day, but she was aimless. My brother's desertion had rendered her with no guiding purpose, and she did n't know how to get back on with her life. And now here she is, lying in a hospital bed of hard starched sheets with nothing left except a random jumble of thoughts, and all of them are about us. She's had nothing else. 
 
 
 I must have drifted asleep for quite a while because when I heard her gasp for breath the sun was setting, golden red light streamed in through the window, and I had a dull ache in my stomach from hunger. I got up and moved to the bed, sitting close to her and holding her hand. Her breath was irregular now, but her eyes were open, looking right at me. 
 
 
 `` Mom... how are you feeling?'' 
 
 
 She smiled at me, and I could tell that this time she recognized me. Her smile took up her whole face, there was a sense of understanding in her eyes, and she squeezed my hand. I had n't seen a hint of recognition for over a year. 
 
 
 `` Elise... you're so good to me. Thank you. For everything.'' 
 
 
 I felt tears welling up, a painful tightness behind my eyes that I pushed down as best as I could. `` Of course mom, anything.'' 
 
 
 She squeezed my hand again. She nodded, but kept her eyes locked on mine. `` Honey, I know you're so mad at your brother and have been for such a long time,'' she started. 
 
 
 `` Mom, no, do n't worry about that,'' I interrupted her quickly. I did not want what might be the last real conversation we had to be about my brother. He had already ruined enough. 
 
 
 `` Please, honey, I need you to hear me.'' I nodded. I felt her gripping my hand tighter, and her breathing was coming harder, but her eyes stayed on me. `` I know you're mad, and you have a right to be. But you do n't know everything about why he left, why we have n't heard from him.'' 
 
 
 `` Mom, it's okay. We do n't have to talk about this,'' I said. 
 
 
 She cut me off, `` Elise, he was very mad at me. You see,'' she took a deep breath. I could tell she was starting to struggle, but I did n't want to interrupt her again. `` You see honey, he found out something that I had never wanted to admit to him, or to you, and when he found out, he did n't know how else to handle it. So he left. I thought he would have forgiven me after a few months, but I was wrong. And I held out hope, even years after we'd heard from him last, that one day he'd come and talk to me again. Because, sweetheart, I never got to tell him that I was sorry. And now, I do n't think I'll get a chance to.'' 
 
 
 Her grip started to slacken and her eyes drifted away. 
 
 
 `` What did he find out? Mom, what made him so mad?'' 
 
 
 She looked at me, and the recognition was gone. `` Who? Who's mad at you? You seen like such a sweet thing to...'' 
 
 
 She started to drift off again and my heart sank. Suddenly I felt her grip tighten again, and I looked back at her. She caught my gaze head on. `` Elise, I need you to tell him I'm sorry. Please. Tell him I'm sorry, and that I love him. Thank you, Elise, I love you.'' 
 
 
 Her grip slackened again and her eyes drifted away from mine. Her body relaxed, and her head nodded slightly to the left as her eyes closed. And just like that, she was gone.
