1123

That's the number to her new room at Daysprings health care facility. AKA nursing home. We moved her in today after much thought, prayer, tears, and doubt. I didn't realize it was possible to feel this guilty about doing the right thing. I know it's the right thing because she's sick and we don't have the skills, time, patience, or ability to emotionally disconnect. All of which are necessary for her to receive the best care. This was absolutely the hardest day of my life, to date. Heather and I dropped her off in the morning and it became clear that we would have to make a clean break before long. She, Lamar, Tristan, Dad, and I went back this evening which also didn't go over well. She was hell-bent on someone taking her home. I know it's going to be like this for a while. We will continue to visit her every day if possible, so she knows we will keep coming back, but I doubt visits will get any easier for a long time. Along with the guilt and sadness, I feel like I'm in mourning to a degree. This just makes it clear that we are in the final stages, however long that will be. She will most likely never live in this house again. We will probably visit her in the nursing home for the rest of her days. We have already started talking about things in the past tense. "She was always so sneaky!" This part, I hadn't anticipated. I also didn't prepare for the sense of relief that I feel. It's kind of nice being able to leave my room unlocked or not wonder if I should check on her b/c she has been upstairs for a while. I don't have to tiptoe as I get ready for work tomorrow morning. But then I feel guilty for feeling relieved. Just can't escape the guilt right now. I know I will one day but for now I remain on the verge of tears as I think about how scared she must be right now or wonder if she feels betrayed. I kind of wish I could run out of tears. God, please mend my breaking heart.