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Claire and I got home Thursday afternoon after a good but somewhat bumpy flight from Florida. Not only did my big brother fly back with me to help, but we also got a free seat for Claire, who took a nice big nap.

The past two weeks have been the most exhausting in recent memory. I was glad to be able to be supportive to my Mom during this difficult time. All those boring tasks of keeping her apartment in order—laundry, dishes, meals, tidying up—generally fell to me. Thankfully, neighbors and church friends dropped off food every day, so no heavy-duty cooking was required while I watched Claire.

Believe it or not, near the end my father was recovering from the pneumonia and sepsis. What did him in was the medication he takes for bipolar disorder. He'd been on lithium for 27 years and had likely been in toxicity for several weeks. It took a nephrologist to help us understand the level of severity of that toxicity, and the irreparable harm it had done to his body.

Dad survived extubation and transport to hospice last Saturday. It was the best decision we made to move him. Suddenly, we were away from all the machines, and no limits on how many can visit or for how long. I was even allowed to bring Claire into the hospice. The room was lovely and comfortable like a hotel room, with a view of the lagoon in the retirement community.

Mom stayed the night at hospice last Saturday. My brother woke at 4 a.m. Sunday unable to sleep and went to see Dad. Mom was so thankful he woke her, because he was able to move her bed next to Dad's so she could hold his hand the rest of the night. Mom called me at about 6:10 to say that Dad's breathing slowed way down, then just stopped. It was peaceful and she was able to be right there with him the way she wanted to.

I put in calls to her pastors, and one came out at 8 a.m. with an elder. Several other friends from the retirement community stopped by before church. The eye bank arrived shortly thereafter to get his corneas, the only usable organ he could donate.

The next three days were a whirlwind, helping pull together the memorial service for Wednesday afternoon. More family arrived little by little, making our preparations all the more difficult. Who wants to run errands and make phone calls when there are family to visit and share stories with?

The service turned out beautifully, however. It was just right and I feel like nothing important went undone. I'll post the memories I shared at the memorial service in another post.

I still feel like I have hardly begun to grieve, I was so busy in Florida and needed to be strong and fully functioning for my daughter. A close friend who has lost both parents warned me that the grief may not fully hit for several weeks.