I remember when I was home for that year. Her last full one. I had my computer set up in the downstairs office so that I could play games and study while being near her as she drifted in and out of sleep. She spent most of her last year sleeping. I'd discovered Antlers and I listened to them a lot. I even caught her humming along with the melody a few times.
"It's very pretty music, but the words are so sad..." she volunteered as I sat with her. It was a connection that I cherished; my mother and I rarely connected on anything. I just nodded and agreed, smiling at her because she had admitted that she liked something in common with me.
The album is called Hospice. Hospice. My sister and I had sacrificed a lot to avoid sending her to hospice. Everyone told us that it's where she should be. They all said it was just a matter of time. Instead we decided to provide hospice for her. Trying, and most times failing, to provide the comfort she needed.
I really can't write any more than that. Maybe she listened to the words. Maybe she understood that "Hospice tells the story of a relationship between a hospice worker and a female patient suffering from terminal bone cancer [...]"
Maybe not. It was always hard to tell with Maria.
The lyrics to Hospice.