“I hate. Hate. I hate you”

“Mom...please...”

A week later I was holding my moms hands at a Hospice Center. She had stopped talking a day earlier and her breathing had become very ragged -

I was told it wouldn’t be long. I had nearly nodded off when I heard her voice breach the quiet with another “I hate...I hate hate you...” This time her eyes were staring right at me. This was the first time I had seen her open them in days.

“I hate you”

“No..no you don’t” I said shaking my head back and forth.

She began shaking her head back and forth in beat with mine while repeating her mantra. She looked so panicked. It was apparent that she didn’t want these to be her final words to me either. My mom started sobbing as she fought against whatever cognitive demon held her hostage to these words and within moments I joined her in opening weeping.

“I hate. Hate....I....LOVE...you!” My mom gasped. It must have taken everything for her to say that because right afterwards she fell right back asleep. I sat next to her bed for the next 14 hours until she slipped over the veil and into the great beyond.

I remind myself everyday to not let things remain unsaid to those in my life. I tell people I love them everyday even if it is hard to do it.

Her final words ring in my ears every night before bed.

“I LOVE you....”

I love you too mom.