Help me make the most of the time my mother has left.

I'm so sorry for what you're going through. I lost my dad last fall, three months after a terminal diagnosis. He was a quiet and thoughtful man, and we really didn't talk much, especially the last month. Sometimes I'd tell stories about what I liked about him, or things that meant a lot to me growing up and as an adult. We just sat side by side a lot or I'd massage his shoulders, which is something he'd always loved. In the end, I just wanted nearness. Just time, knowing he was warm and comfortable and peaceful. The biographical details don't matter to me as much as I thought they would. I fell asleep on the couch beside him during a movie and woke up thinking: he's still here! And it was so nice to wake up to know he was there. Because he wouldn't always be there. The hospice nurses encouraged touch. They brought over several different essential oils to try, and we spent hours in the quiet while I massaged soft scents of lavender and eucalyptus into his hands and arms and feet. I rubbed lemon butter into his cuticles. I memorized the knuckles and spots on his hands, marveled at the stretch of them. He used to be able to palm a basketball. I guess my point is, I love the idea of your mom writing some things down for posterity, but if she doesn't, it's OK. This time with her is so valuable. Remember her hands.

I'm losing my father through the slow decline of dementia. Do what you and she enjoy doing. Do it as much as possible. Experience and let her experience the feeling of being loved. This is the most important thing. It's okay if you do it while grieving. Just be yourself, and be loving and be present.

I am so sorry to hear about your mom. It was a huge regret of mine that I didn't get round to making a recording of my mom talking about her life, which is something we'd vaguely discussed. I miss her voice and the way she spoke as much as what she had to say sometimes. Maybe combine the journal idea with an audio recording? Not every day but perhaps when she's feeling up to it. Again, I'm sorry you are all having to deal with this, but from the way you are approaching things I think and hope any regrets you may have will be minimised by your closeness and openness. My sincere best wishes to you both.

The first thing you should know is that no matter what happens between now and her time to go, it won't be enough. All I can say is don't fixate on what you "should" do - just do. Be with her, talk to her, but don't treat her passing as a checklist of items that have to be accomplished before the end. All of the questions you have for her can be answered, but don't focus on getting them answered at the expense of just being with her, telling her a dumb joke, or even watching a dumb TV show if that's what she feels like doing at any particular moment. My parents both died of long illnesses, 20 and 31 years ago, and to this day I don't regret not asking either of them The Big Questions. Just be with her, let her know she's loved, and if you get some of your answers, great. And please, since it sounds like you've taken a lot on yourself (and since I've been there) - find yourself the occasional escape, even if just for an hour or so every now and again. Your health is just as important as anything else that's going on right now.

1. Stories about her grandparents - this is the knowledge that gets lost with each generation. 2. Her experience of being a mother. 3. The stories behind her knick-knacks (which ones have sentimental/historical value and which ones are junk from a second-hand shop)

Thanks so much for all of your thoughtful responses and support. I really love and appreciate this community.

I lost my mother when I was 23, almost 4 years ago. I was lucky we were like best friends, that when she passed, we literally have talked about everything in her life -- her old dreams, the men she met before marrying my father, her honest wistfulness as she ponders what-could-have-beens, the depth of her faith, her hopes for me. I agree with the advice above about just being loving and present, because it's these simple conversations I end up looking back on and find so beautifully revealing, so deeply inspirational. But what I am most grateful for, ultimately, is not what I asked her to leave behind that I can preserve, but what I had the chance to say before it was too late -- which is that I'll do my very best to live a life that honors her memory and her sacrifices, that I'll roll with the punches and make the best of it all, no matter what, for her. The fact that I got to express all that to her has given me tremendous peace.

I wish I had more recordings of my mother, audio or video. I miss her face and her voice. She didn't much like being photographed, and looks very serious in most photos. And though she wrote beautifully, she didn't write often, so I don't have much to reread or to listen to when I miss her. After my mother died, my sister sent us all a copy of a voicemail she'd left, and it means a lot to me to have it. I wish could re-listen to some of the conversations I had with her. One of my favorite things is a video that my mother took of a sunset...except she didn't realize she was holding the camera backward, so it's an inadvertent video selfie instead. She's relaxed and unselfconscious, talking about how pretty this off-camera sunset is, and it feels like a gift to have it. On the other hand, our focus while she was dying was on doing what she wanted. So when I start to wish for ___, I try to remember what I do have: the knowledge that we focused on what she wanted and needed, ephemeral as it was. That does console me.

What I wish most is that I had the opportunity to ask questions, or even just have conversations, about things that happened growing up. Memories aren't always accurate, heck you might even disagree strongly with your mother's version of events, but there are stories that only you and your mom will know about and it's hard when you don't have anyone to talk to about them or confirm details. I know it's not a specific question I'm giving you to ask, but think of it this way - just start taking about your childhood, your room, school picture day, when you got "x" injury, etc. It won't be possible to get every event, but you'll love listening or reading it later. My kids like knowing about favorite things of their grandmother - foods, season of the year, music, etc. It's an easily relatable point, oh I'm like/not like her. Also, they like to know what she was like at various ages, was she a shy 5-year-old hiding behind mother's legs? Or fearless and got in trouble, and how does that compare to how she was at say 10-years-old? Again, it is very relatable to their world. Also, it would be could if you could think about sentimental item(s) you might wish to have later and make sure you know where they are. It was very stressful when I was trying to sell the house and could not find my great-grandmother's ring. In my circumstance it was just me, so I do not mean to imply that you are keeping items for yourself versus family members getting them, rather that you talk to your mom about those objects in a story-telling context and get her help to look for them so that they are available for you all as a family. If it wouldn't be contentious or upsetting you and your brother could talk about what you would like to have and give your mom a chance to talk about what she hoped would happen with certain items. I'm sorry if I'm repeating other people's posts, but I discovered while reading your lovely, heartfelt question all those emotions flooding back, even after several years have passed, so I just couldn't bring myself to read too closely. It was also my last parent, and it is, indeed, very difficult, I wish you strength.