When Jake became critically ill, my mother was also dying. I had been with her everyday for the past few years, and it was incredibly painful to not be with her. When it was my night at home, and Dave was with Jake,  I had to muster up the strength to put on a positive face and be with my mom. “What can I do? Oh Mari, I feel so helpless. Poor Jake.” “Just pray,  Mom, that’s the most important and best thing you can do.” I don’t know what was harder for my dad- seeing Jake so sick, seeing my mom so sad, or sitting at home feeling helpless to both of them. Not being able to fix it was difficult.  In December 2014, hospice was called in to care for my mom.  Jake was released from the hospital around the same time. On December 22nd, we knew it wouldn’t be long for my mom. She had said her last words a day or two before.  My sister and I were there for the duration. I was thankful Dave, Jake and Molly were home.  At a little after midnight, December 23rd, my dad came back to the hospital. He placed his hand on her chest, and she took her last breath.  I fell into her lap and cried. We waited with her until they took her away. On Christmas Day, my father and I worked on funeral plans and Dave had to take Jake to the emergency room. He came home after a bag of prednisone.  The visitation was the 26th. That night we had to take Jake back to the ER. We waited all night in the ER until he could be admitted the next morning. A family friend drove 2 hours to get me so I could be there for my mom’s funeral and burial. Each grandchild placed a pink sweetheart rose by the Virgin Mary in honor of their grandmother. Jake, who was supposed to lead the 9 grandchildren, stayed in the hospital about a week,
and they decided to place a  vetricular shunt in his head to control the pressure…

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