Well, my birthday is nearly over, actually.
I was complaining at work this morning that it's (hopefully) my worst birthday ever.
I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night last night (from 2:30 to 6 a.m.). I have a cold and feel like crap. We're essentially waiting for my mom to die of dementia. (Part of the reason I couldn't sleep was the worry that the nursing home would call with bad news.) There are signs that it's very close.
There was a care plan meeting about Mom at the nursing home today. Donna and I were there, and Suzanna and her boyfriend Chad showed up - Suzanna didn't want to visit Mom unless Donna was there. So they went to see her while I waited with the people there for the meeting, then they stayed for the meeting.
After the meeting, I thought we were going to stay with Mom for awhile, so I went back to her room and sat in a chair next to her and held her hand. A couple of times I told her that I was there, and that it's my birthday. I thanked her for giving birth to me. It's the kind of joke she would appreciate.
A couple of times, I told her that I love her. She said, "I love you."
I haven't gotten any presents from anyone, and don't really expect any. I've gotten well-wishes on Facebook, and I appreciate them.
But I'm going to cherish those three words, as it may be the last time I hear them from my mom.