Porpoising

 Years ago, I learned an apt term that describes the end of many peoples' lives: porpoising. In the way a porpoise dives and surfaces, often the end for someone is not a straight trajectory. And so it is with my ancient suegra.

After a few days in the hospital, for a UTI that became septic, we were told by the NP that the end was likely near. Last week, Wifey even told the Ds they might wish to plan final visits with their beloved sabta. On Thursday, Wifey and I drove to the Palace for the signing of hospice papers.

After a lovely visit with the beautiful grandson, we met with a social worker from a company called Opus, which handles hospice at the Palace. There were a LOT of documents for Wifey to sign -- she joked that it was like buying a house, except this time it was selling her mother into a final plan.

Basically, Rachel would be brought from South Miami Hospital and placed back into her ALF room, with the plan that there be no further hospitalizations -- just care to keep her comfortable and pain free. On Friday evening, they made the transfer, and on Saturday we went to visit.

D1 was there ahead of us. D2 couldn't make it. D1 had a letter she had written -- a tear jerking thank you and farewell.

And then my mother in law looked like she was indeed NOT going to die for awhile. She had started taking bites of Milano cookies. She smiled. She reached out to touch D1 and Wifey. The porpoise was not going down for the last time -- not yet.

Of course, only the Big Man knows when the time will come. In my father in law's case, he left Mt. Sinai Hospital's ICU, was discharged back to Miami Jewish Home, and lived another 6 months. My Mom didn't porpoise much -- from her 93rd birthday it was pretty much a straight decline until her death 2 weeks later. In fact, tomorrow is Mom's yahrzeit -- the anniversary of her death. It was 8 years ago.

Saturday night, Wifey's friend Cara had us over to her place on Venetian Island. Another friend Ana was there. It was nice to have a normal get together with fully jabbed folks. Cara made chicken marsala and I poured our drinks. Ana is a Cubana who converted to Judaism to marry a fellow, raised her kids in the faith, and then "converted back" to marry her second husband, a Cuban Catholic. These events made for many funny tales -- especially comparing forms of guilt from each of the two faiths.

Yesterday Wifey was Zoom interviewed by a UHealth reporter, about her recovery from a major health issue. She had joked that she was the only one in the family who had never been in the news, and now she will be. I played the role of Zoom coordinator and lighting director -- I had to go fetch a lamp to make Wifey more visible to the camera. The piece should air next week -- Wifey will have her fame.

So the slouch back to non plague normal continues. Little by little. D1 actually wants us all to attend a Marlins game in late May -- they're playing my childhood team the Mets. Would I be interested? Hmmm...my childhood team playing my current team, and most importantly being able to take the Little Man to his first game? Yeah -- I think I might make time in my empty schedule for that one.

And I'll tell him all about how we're standing on hallowed ground -- the site of the old Orange Bowl, venue to many precious memories. I think he won't be too interested.

But for now, the vigil for the last of my family's parental generation goes on. For now, my mother in law is living out the great Monty Python song, I'm not dead yet.