My Mom is slipping away. She's barely there now

Sincere condolences. I know how tough this is.

Both my folks died relatively young. I’m now older than either of them got to be. That feels weird.

It does, doesn’t it? At least my mom made it to 83!

I’m so sorry, What_Exit. I also lost my mom when she was 89. She’d said she didn’t want to make it to 90, and she didn’t. She would have been 100 last April. I miss her every day.

And I’m a third vote for not urging her to eat if she doesn’t want to. That’s very hard, I know, but her body is trying to let go, and eating is not going to significantly delay the end or make her feel better.

May her transition be smooth and serene and your grief gentle.

It’s rough going through that, I’m sorry. Try to be with her as much as you can. She may not be as aware of how often you visit anymore, but you will be glad of it, for your own peace of mind.

I’m so sorry.

Let me second this.

It’s very common for the dying to lose all interest in eating. So common in fact it’s sort of normal. I saw it happen with my father-in-law, mother, father, and husband.

If your mom expresses hunger or says she wants to eat then of course feed her, but if she says she’s not hungry she’s probably not and don’t force the issue. When the end nears everything starts to shut down, including hunger and digestion.

Spend as much time as you can with her now. Even if she doesn’t seem aware of you, she might be, and for a lot of people those final days and hours with a loved one are valuable (of course, for others it’s not - you do you).

That phenomena has a name: terminal lucidity.

If you’re fortunate enough to encounter it make the time to be there and be with the person.

@What_Exit I’m sorry to hear you’re going through this. Feel free to come back to this thread if we can be of any help, even if that’s just an outlet for your feelings and words. Take care of yourself.


Hold her hand, tell her out loud you love her and that it is all right for her to let go.

Will be holding you both in the light.

Second the above. My father (on whom be peace) lost consciousness a little over a day before the end, and from then on one of us was always holding his hand and lending him strength — not to stay, but to go. I believe it made his passing easier for us as well.

I have nothing new to say, just another voice of sympathy. Losing a parent is hard no matter what the circumstances.

My dad would also have been 100 this year but died in 1974 (the morning of my high school graduation).

Worse than my mom dying Christmas morning.

My condolences to you and your family. I hope this time is as peaceful and as full of love as possible. You are in my thoughts.

Not much original I can add to others’ well-spoken thoughts, but I hope for everyone’s sake that your mom’s passing is peaceful. Cherish the time you do have with her.

We were fortunate that neither of my parents had any loss of lucidity - they remained themselves until the very last. It’s got to be beyond painful for everyone to know that the parent they loved isn’t truly at home in her head anymore.

We too made a point of never leaving her alone (she was in the hospital), talking to her, and letting her know it was OK to go. She finally slipped away when 2 of the 3 of us had gone home briefly to shower. I think parents know, somehow.

I am very sorry. I really dont know what to say. I feel your pain and her pain.

Thinking of you and your family, WE.

My father died at 63, my mother at 78. As I get to late in my 85th year, it does feel weird. Both my wife’s parents died in their 60s and she is now 83.

My mom died October 1st. She was with it to the end. She was in hospice and died in her sleep. I still miss her…one more question one more story. She took care of her mother in her home until Grams death at 96. Mom had travelled the world and US. This is from a gal from Kalamazoo! Life well lived!


I am sorry to hear this news, even if we expected it.

You will miss her forever. But the grief will eventually make room for joy.

I’m glad she was able to be in hospice, and to die gently in her sleep. I’m very sorry for your loss.