Arrival Crescent City, CA Sutter Coast Hospital

When I walked into her room she was in a deep sleep and as I rubbed her hand and stroked her hair, she still didn't arouse. I sat by her bed and thought of all the happy times we had had together, just her and I. We really were very, very close as mother and daughter. Our relationship certainly changed over the different stages of my life, but she was always there for me with her laugh, her advice, her encouragement.

Now I'm here for her in this terrible journey as she slips a little farther away from all of us who love her so much. As difficult as it is to watch her decline, I do feel gratitude for all the happy memories and certainly for her longevity even in this impaired state.

Then she started coughing, a deep, wracking congested roll of thunder causing her to open her eyes. She looked at me and said, "Where did you come from?" Preparing for the heartbreak of her not knowing who I was, I said, "Who am I?" She answered without hesitation, "Linda."

I have a very clear memory about 10 years ago, of her leaning against the wall next to her bedroom door at our house. I was sitting at my desk reading the results of her brain scan done that morning at Mayo Clinic. Happily the results were normal and the relief she felt with this news was enormous. "But Mom," I said, "you know in the future, you may not remember who I am." A look of disbelief crossed her face and then she said with great sadness, "Oh, I hope not!" I got up from my chair and hugged her tightly and said, "Oh Mom, I hope not too."

So, as I hugged her tightly once again, I thought to myself...Mom, I don't know if you really know it's me, but I'm thrilled you said my name.