The Bar Pours a Sip for Mrs. H

Storytime: The Moms, who is a nurse, lost her hospice patient last night.

The Moms had been working with her for four months and had grown quite attached.  Mrs. H, as we'll call her, was 98 years old, and had 20/20 vision.

Though the Moms insists Mrs. H's mind was still intact, her own stories contradict that theory.  Mrs. H barely had any family left in the world; she thought my mother was her family.  So whenever the Moms came to start her shift in the evening, Mrs. H thought she'd just gotten off work.  Whenever the Moms left the morning to go home, Mrs. H thought she was going to work.

Whenever the Moms would show up "after work", Mrs. H would greet her happily at the door and tell her to put her feet up while she fixed the Moms something to eat.  They would chat about their day, and near the end of her life, Mrs. H's mind was clearly starting to go because she'd complain about how "dis nigga keeps comin' around, tryin' to get some."

The Moms: *raises eyebrow* Get some what?

Mrs. H: You know what I mean what I say "tryin' to get some".

The Moms maintains she is not upset, that she gladly held Mrs. H's hand as she drew her last breath, and felt nothing other than "peace, joy, and overwhelming love."

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