Aunt Pat was all "Chatty Cathy" when I visited her at 10 am. She feels better in the mornings. It's hard to imagine her time is very short, especially when she seems to improve a tiny bit over yesterday. I checked on her during lunch and she is more tired and sedated but still sharp as a tack. She is comfortable and resting peacefully. 

She is having visions. I walked into the room today and she was full on in conversation with someone. I joined in and Aunt Pat didn't miss a beat - she kept the conversation going for a bit. 

Because she is still nauseous, Lori the Hospice Angel is increasing her meds which will make her more sleepy. She is ready to go as she doesn't like living like this. Her body is in process of shutting down. She is a strong woman. It is only a matter of time.  

Panorama view of Pat's Coffee and Tea shop.

This is a poem Hospice shares and it is also very fitting.

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying...

Betsy xo