Mom,
Well, this is my last letter to you. You passed away on February 13th at about 5:30 AM. We made the decision to let you go the day before. The doctors said that you had another aneurysm and it had burst and caused a couple of strokes. They said the brain damage was irreversible. (I should say that this letter will take a while to write, so I'll keep putting the time and date when I re-start.)
(Mar.7 7:03 AM) Continuing on ... the doctors weren't very optimistic about the condition you would be in if you came out of the coma, so they thought it would be in your best interest to let you go. We knew you wouldn't want to be like that, so the decision was made. So, they took the respirator (ventilator) away and made you as comfortable as possible. We stayed at the hospital that night. I went in to sit with you about every hour. One time I went in, I made your hand to comfortings. You had been opening your eyes off and on, and as I did that you opened your eyes. When I put your hand down and looked up, you were frowning at me, as I was crying quite hard. The nurse said that it wasn't really you, but I think that it was. I think you were trying to tell me not to cry and that everything will be okay. You had also moved your finger, so that's why I think this.
(Mar.13 6:30 PM) Well, it's been one month today. Things have sure changed. There are so many things I'd like to talk to you about. I miss you. Lorraine called me today.
(Mar.20 12:30PM) I can't seem to finish this last letter. I guess I don't really want to. Lorraine called and talked about you. I hadn't realized that it had been one month, but she quickly reminded me. I wish she hadn't.
I still can't believe you're gone. I watched a video with you in it and it seems like you're still here. I wish you were, but not in a coma. I miss you so much. I'd really like to talk to you. I can't believe how much our lives changed and so quickly. I had a rough time a little while ago and wanted to finish everything. I seriously considered and planned it, but called Judy and she got me through.
Dad's been talking to me about his feelings. I think he's doing okay. He leaves for Mexico first thing tomorrow morning. I'm glad he's going.
Darrin and I are looking at McEachern's house in Redwater. I have so many questions to ask you about it, but we wouldn't be buying if you were here.
I guess I can close off this letter soon. I'm really glad I was with you when you died. I hope it made it easier for you.
The baby's won't remember you, but I've got you on video so they can at least see you in 'real life'. I only regret that I don't have any pictures of you and Kiershyn.
I'll never, ever forget you, and will miss you always.
I love you. Twyla
Well, this is my last letter to you. You passed away on February 13th at about 5:30 AM. We made the decision to let you go the day before. The doctors said that you had another aneurysm and it had burst and caused a couple of strokes. They said the brain damage was irreversible. (I should say that this letter will take a while to write, so I'll keep putting the time and date when I re-start.)
(Mar.7 7:03 AM) Continuing on ... the doctors weren't very optimistic about the condition you would be in if you came out of the coma, so they thought it would be in your best interest to let you go. We knew you wouldn't want to be like that, so the decision was made. So, they took the respirator (ventilator) away and made you as comfortable as possible. We stayed at the hospital that night. I went in to sit with you about every hour. One time I went in, I made your hand to comfortings. You had been opening your eyes off and on, and as I did that you opened your eyes. When I put your hand down and looked up, you were frowning at me, as I was crying quite hard. The nurse said that it wasn't really you, but I think that it was. I think you were trying to tell me not to cry and that everything will be okay. You had also moved your finger, so that's why I think this.
(Mar.13 6:30 PM) Well, it's been one month today. Things have sure changed. There are so many things I'd like to talk to you about. I miss you. Lorraine called me today.
(Mar.20 12:30PM) I can't seem to finish this last letter. I guess I don't really want to. Lorraine called and talked about you. I hadn't realized that it had been one month, but she quickly reminded me. I wish she hadn't.
I still can't believe you're gone. I watched a video with you in it and it seems like you're still here. I wish you were, but not in a coma. I miss you so much. I'd really like to talk to you. I can't believe how much our lives changed and so quickly. I had a rough time a little while ago and wanted to finish everything. I seriously considered and planned it, but called Judy and she got me through.
Dad's been talking to me about his feelings. I think he's doing okay. He leaves for Mexico first thing tomorrow morning. I'm glad he's going.
Darrin and I are looking at McEachern's house in Redwater. I have so many questions to ask you about it, but we wouldn't be buying if you were here.
I guess I can close off this letter soon. I'm really glad I was with you when you died. I hope it made it easier for you.
The baby's won't remember you, but I've got you on video so they can at least see you in 'real life'. I only regret that I don't have any pictures of you and Kiershyn.
I'll never, ever forget you, and will miss you always.
I love you. Twyla
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