The final race has begun. There is no winner in this race, the distance to the finish line is unknown only the outcome is certain. This race can only be lost. But it’s not a race that I’m racing. I’m along as a domestic, a helper, to my Mom. She seems to have some neurological and cognitive impairment, that appeared after surgery. It’s now 72 hours post surgery. If there is no improvement today, this is her new baseline. I’m not optimistic. She will be unsteady in gait, tremor in her left leg, physically weak and poor short term memory. I only have two jobs in this race. Escort her to death making the journey as easy as possible for her and help Dad as much as possible so the burden on him is a small as possible.
I think I have an idea of what I have to do. I suspect though this race involves a lot of on the fly learning, taking the turns and curves as they come then reacting. It’s going to suck watching her decline, fade and eventually lose. You might think being in a one person race gives you the inside track to winning, and if losing is winning then you are right.
This race is rather scary, tougher then anything I’ve ever done. No upside potential, only downside surety. A friend of mine once told me you can’t stop time, no matter how bad something is it has to end eventually. I know the finish line is near, the race won’t be that long ultimately. A year at the most. During that time there can be no cracking, no getting dropped no matter how fast, how brutal the pace may be. It’s just going to be enduring at the front making it easier for Mom to get to the finish line.