As I post this entry from Mom's office, formerly my childhood bedroom, in Philadelphia I can hardly believe how quickly things have changed. After the oncologist's news near the end of last week we were all saddened and concerned and made plans to get here today or tomorrow to spend time with Mom and support Dad. Grant and I and our families were attending various holiday celebrations with friends back in Pittsburgh when the hospice nurse announced that things had taken a drastic turn, and we all rushed here last night, arriving around midnight.

Currently, Mom is on oxygen and resting comfortably in bed, receiving occasional doses of liquid morphine. She seems to recognize us and smiles when we tell her stories and sing to her, but hasn't really opened her eyes and has only said a word or two every couple of hours. This morning, Miles and Claire sat in bed with her and hugged her, which perked her up a bit, and she did take a few sips of water. She hasn't eaten since Saturday. Dad's sister Lisa, a nurse, is here with us--the "us" includes Dad, Grant, Deborah, Miles, Claire, John, and me. We are so grateful for the Lord's mercy in giving us time to spend with Mom and for keeping her pain at bay.

It seems unfathomable to me that just two weeks ago we were all out to brunch for Father's Day and Mom was eating bacon and eggs. Grant and I spent some time in the middle of the night just holding Mom's hand and talking to her about Heaven and all of the joy that awaits here there. We know even in these hours of terrible sadness that we will all we feasting again together one day.

Your support and love continues to be vital. Please understand that we cannot respond to all texts and e-mails personally right at this moment but I promise to post as regulary as I can over the next hours and days.