It was suggested that we, my family & I, meet with "The Palliative Care Team" for help in guiding us with decisions that would direct Mom's care. They were a warm, tender, and loving group of people. However, the meeting left me frightened, terrified, longing, and lost. What could I do to fix things. Quickly. How could I make Mom better. How could I have her for just a little longer. How could we help this amazing wife, mother of five, grandmother of 11, and great-grand of one. God, we need your help, what should we do? Well, Mom had made those decisions for us. She had a Health Care Directive, and it was our duty to honor decisions she had made years ago. But did we have to? Was it right? God was in heavy demand by me, God had to make it right. God had to love me enough, hold me tight, and promise me that I had to do what Mom wanted me to do. All of a sudden I felt like I was suppose to know something that I couldn't possibly know. How can I know that Mom still wanted DNR & DNI? And if she were to live she would need a feeding tube so she wouldn't swallow food that would end up in her lungs causing recurring pneumonia, and a very slow death. How did I know this was still right? Well..I did know that Mom and Dad were forward thinking and that together they had made decisions together that would tell us exactly what to do if or when we were presented with these horrible decisions. During the meeting, I began to feel anxiety creeping in, and became fidgety. I looked for a clock on the wall to tell me what time it was. Why? Something real?, something solid?, something familiar?, I then reached down toward my purse to find my cell phone, and just as suddenly I stood up and paced in a small area, surrounded by the Palliative Care team, my father, brothers, and sister. I turned to the social worker and asked what time it was. She said it was 1:37 (pm). And, then I knew...God could not have been any more present to me at that moment, because the anxiety was out of character, the getting up, the intense discomfort was out of character for me...and the time held the answer, as 3 and 7 are my lucky numbers, are now and always have been...God knew too. I sat down calmly, and we continued on... Very difficult decisions were made in that very small room that afternoon. My dad had a knowing sense about exactly what was right and just, and what would be the very best for mom..with a trembling voice he shared his thoughts and we, his children agreed to what he felt would honor mom, would be what she would want, but would ultimately be "our" decision, a family decision, at the heart of which were mom's wishes. My mom, my hero & the strongest woman I know. Now~ I am entering a world completely unknown to me..and I'm' scared, very scared. I will Mom in God's arms, knowing that if holds her, he will hold all those she loves.