Thestrals soon

The house was very, very clean when we first came in. It was always extremely clean when we were growing up, but it's spotless. There are, and will be, people coming in and out, and Dad wanted it to be presentable. Honestly, I think it's also something he can control.

Mom is upstairs, in the medical bed the hospice brought. She's not really responsive right now. She's on oxygen, which isn't really doing anything, and morphine, which is the only thing keeping her comfortable. The way her skin looks, the way her breath rattles and comes in intermittent jags, makes it clean that it could happen at any moment.

We're just kind of hanging out with her. Talk to her, holding her hand. Watching. Wanting to be there when it happens.

Dad asked me if I remembered the scene in Harry Potter where Harry sees the thestrals for the first time, because you can only see them when you see death. I knew he'd read the books, but it surprised me to hear him make that sort of reference. But he said, "I think we're going to see thestrals soon."

3/22/53 - 5/20/14

My mother died.