When my mom was in hospice and we knew the end was near our last visit was very much like each visit the days before. My dad would go every morning about 7:00. I would give him an hour or so alone with mom, then I would show up. We sat, we talked, we had visitors, we chuckled over comforting memories, we cried thinking about the inevitable. Then we would leave around 6:00 or 7:00, go have some dinner, go back to mom and dad's house, go to bed and repeat the same the next day. But that last night was different. I told my dad I wanted to go back to the hospital that night because I didn't want mom to be alone. He talked me out of it. He said I needed my rest and mom rested better when she didn't have people in the room with her. She will be fine he said. Something in me said I should go, but I thought maybe dad was right so I went to bed. At 6:00 the next morning the phone rang. My mom had passed in the night. I was devasted that I didn't go to her the night before. I let her down. She died alone. This was almost 13 years ago. For most of those 13 years I struggled with the THOUGHT that my mom was there for me, took care of me ... every day of my life. The one day that I should have been there for her I wasn't and I'll never be able to make it up to her. This is the THOUGHT that I struggled with for years. But its not the TRUTH. The TRUTH is, had I gone back to the hospital that night my mom probably would not have passed, she would have held on another day because she didn't want me (or anyone) to be with her when it was time. She would have suffered another day, struggling to breathe. That thought creeps into my mind, rearing its ugly head on milestone days ... her birthday, Mother's Day, the day she died, the day we laid her to rest. But I remind myself every time. THAT IS A THOUGHT NOT THE TRUTH. Love you and miss you mom always!