By the family:

When you walk into Mom’s room there are tubes and machines, things pumping, things sucking, an efficient chill in the air. You’ll usually see a few of us there, her groupies. We made house along the back wall of her little room- convertible chair/bed in bed mode, like 12 pillows, 1 open case water, pastries, manapua, teddy bears, cards with messages of love to her and to us…we read them to her whenever the room quiets down.

She’s on her bed-dias, the center of constant attention. I’ve never seen nurses work so hard. From 6 to 6 they are hustling. Checking monitors, connections, logging, cleaning, making fresh, answering our questions, putting up with our 4 people in the room although technically you’re only supposed to have 2. Amidst the labyrinth is mom, with the best tan you’ve ever seen. Even sick she’s the tannest haole lady. She opens her eyes when she wants to, gazes left or right or moves an arm or toe when someone she loves asks her to.

She is progressing down this intricate and constantly updating path experts have laid down for her. She hears us, she feels your love, she has plenty to do yet in this life, and she is doing her very best to make sure we know that.

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