Time has a way of blurring details. Sometimes this is a blessing and a salve, and sometimes it robs us of clarity when we need to use our memories as the foundations in this beautiful architecture that is called our life. So here I am writing to remember.
If you don't want to read the story of how Mom died then this is the post to skip. But, you will also miss the story of how she went to Heaven. Mom saw heaven and we watched her see it and it was an amazing experience.
When my mother died it was the third day that she was in her home after we brought her from the hospital. Just now it hit me how ironic it was that we waited with her for three days just as Jesus' friends waited waited for him as he lay in the tomb.
Her first night at home Mom almost left us. She was in respiratory distress several times. We spent most of the night around her bed watching and waiting. She struggled. She seemed in and out of consciousness. She spent a lot of time "talking". She was restless, her mouth was moving and she shifted in her bed often. We couldn't hear her her words but it was obvious that in her conversation she was wrestling. With what we didn't know and perhaps it was better that way. I suspect that her conversation was with God and that it needed to be private.
At the time I was unnerved by my Mom's struggle and I began my own struggle with the Lord. The doctors had told us that Mom would fall asleep and slip peacefully away. Even with all of the medications she was receiving, what she was experiencing was anything but peaceful. I begged God to end her suffering. I didn't understand His strange mercy. I thought of how we humans grant mercy to our pets and end their suffering at the end of life and I became angry that God would allow Mom, who is so much more precious than an animal to struggle so. What I have come to believe now is that this night was God's mercy. I believe that He and Mom wrestled together and that God won.
The next day Mom rested much, but by that evening I knew that we were in for another rough night. There were things happening physically to her that told us that the end was drawing near. My brothers and I took turns sitting with her while the other two slept nearby on the couch or on the floor. Joe went to sleep the sleep of exhaustion in his own bed.
In the wee hours of the next morning the three of us were awakened by the nurse. Mom had suddenly awakened and was struggling to get out of bed. She had nearly made it before one of my brothers jumped up to hold her down. She was gesturing at the ceiling and was very excited. Her strength was incredible and I was terrified that she would waste the last bit of her energy and die while we were holding her down into the bed. But I was wrong.
The nurse on duty was every bit as alarmed as we were and called the doctor immediately to see if she could get more morphine to help settle Mom down. I went to wake Joe and my conversation with God on the way to his room was an angry one.
When I got back into the room Mom had settled some and as I watched her I realized that she wasn't trying to fight to stay, but that she was trying to leave! Her eyes were open and she seemed to be talking excitedly to someone - actually it seemed as if she were talking to a group of people.
She raised her arms to give hugs to guests unseen by us.
I couldn't understand most of what she was saying, but there were a few things she said were undeniable. Over and over she looked around and said, "Wow!" "Wow!"
"Yes," With a shake of her head, "I am ready to go."
"Now."
And she tried to get out of the bed again as if she could walk to heaven.
It seemed that she was being introduced to people. She would say, "Who?" many times, and many times it seemed as if she were trying to embrace people.
At one point she leaned over next to Joe and patted his arm and said, "Yes, Joe."
She seemed so excited and so happy. Not at all like the struggle of the night before. Her brow was smooth and she was completely comfortable with her unseen guests.
Watching her reminded me of the joy of Christmas that I have seen on the faces of my own children. Her face reflected surprise and joy.
Mom was so enraptured by what she was seeing that any attempts we made to communicate with her were pushed away. It almost seemed like she couldn't believe that we would interrupt. I don't think she realized that we couldn't see or hear what she saw.
We watched her converse for nearly an hour and a half. We couldn't believe the endurance that she had. Her little body was so frail by this time.
Then she began to fall asleep. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed and then she was gone. Her passing was very peaceful after all.
I know that Mom saw heaven and I was blessed to be there to watch her go.
