I sat by her bed.
Her hand swollen…full…unmoving.
Feet that danced just a few weeks ago now stilled.
Arms that lifted just a short time ago now limp.
Words that spilled easily just a moment ago now haulted.
How could life seep away so quickly, right before my eyes?
Mom was ready.
But I wasn’t.
On July 29th , mom called to tell me she was going to the emergency room. She had abdominal pain and couldn’t stop throwing up. I had just been at her house four days before, and this was something new.
“She has an ileus,” the doctor explained. “Part of her intestines has stopped working. But her heart isn’t strong enough to survive surgery. If her intestines don’t start working on their own, she will die.”
Four weeks into the sitting and waiting, it looked like mom was going to get to go Home. Not to her little brick house in the colonial neighborhood…the one with cedar shingles, cobblestone street, and white picket fence where she had lived for over twenty-five years, but her home in a celestial neighborhood with familiar faces, golden streets, and the presence of God. Mom was ready. She had been planning the party for quite sometime.
I gently held her fluid filled hand
Sky-blue eyes looked off into the distance. Her mind replaying bits and pieces of life.
“Mom, whatcha thinking about?” I asked.
“It’s not how you start. It’s how you finished,” she whispered.
“Who told you that,” I asked with a knowing smile.
“You did,” she replied.
“I love you, mom.”
“I love you more,” she countered.
Mom had regrets. We all do…if we’re honest.
But she finished well. She had made sure that her grandkids, extended family and I knew we were loved. She had made preparations of her passing as easy as possible for me, the lone child responsible for all the details. She loved Jesus and was thrilled to get to see Him face-to-face.
The last week of her life, I was having a bit of a crying spell. Mom had requested the doctors remove all the machines, all the tubes, all the medications. “Comfort care.” That’s what they called it.
“Well mom, it looks like you’re going to get to see Jesus before I do.”
And in a quick wit that served her well to the end, she teased with a twinkle in her eye, “Are you jealous?”
And to be honest…I was.
I miss you, mom. See you soon.