My mother, Melody, is nearing the end of her life, and she is doing it the same way she has done everything else — on her own terms, with a joke ready and a hymn in her heart. Just a few days ago, from her hospital bed in rural Arkansas, she softly sang “How Great Thou Art” just loud enough that staff and visitors stopped in the hallway to listen. Her body is failing, but in that moment, her spirit was unmistakably still there. That is who she has always been. She played piano by ear, raised a big family through hard circumstances, and spent more than 50 years as a beloved part of the Salina, Kansas community before her declining health made it necessary for her to move to Arkansas, where family could help care for her.
Over the past year, mom's health has steadily declined. What began as confusion, weakness, and memory issues turned into repeated infections, hospital stays, rehabilitation, internal bleeding, heart complications, and emergency transfers. More than once, we thought we might lose her. More than once, she rallied and gave us a little more time. Recently, she entered hospice care. At this point, the fight is no longer for recovery. It is for comfort, dignity, and peace in whatever time she has left.
Right now, my sister has taken FMLA from her nursing job to care for my mother full-time. My sister's husband is also disabled and unable to work because of chronic back pain. With both of them away from a reliable income, the strain on their household has become overwhelming. The costs are not just medical. They are the day-to-day realities that come with keeping someone safe and cared for during the last chapter of life: gas for constant trips back and forth, motel stays during emergency transfers, food, utilities, hygiene supplies, and all the things insurance and Medicare do not cover while we wait for approvals and decisions that move much slower than real life does.
We are not asking for anything extravagant. We are asking for help so my sister can continue doing what she is already doing with love and devotion: making sure my Mother Melody is cared for, comfortable, and not alone. If you are able to give, thank you. If you are not, sharing this page and keeping our family in your prayers means just as much to her.