I deleted a phone number from my cell phone today. Of the twenty or so numbers I have in my directory one of them was no longer current. The number had been disconnected. Normally I love cleaning up things that are no longer needed but this particular deletion was a sad one.
On Saturday evening (June 20th) my sister called to say that my mother was very near death. On Sunday afternoon we flew here to Montana and arrived at my mother’s room in the nursing home about 1 AM on Monday morning. Mom was unconscious, lying on her back, and breathing in very shallow breaths. Her eyes were closed, she was on oxygen, and she had not eaten or drank for about 3 days. She barely looked like my mother.
The rest of my family members were already there and had been sitting with Mom for some time so I sat with Mom that entire night. I watched her breathing and prayed for her and talked to her and read Scripture to her and sang to her. Sometimes I cried and sometimes I just sat in the dim light feeling numb—feeling like I was in a dream about a dream. One time, about 4 AM, Mom opened her eyes for 15 seconds and looked straight at me. I told her how much I loved her and exhorted her to keep her trust fully in Christ and searched for some light of comprehension in her eyes. I cannot say that I saw any. It did comfort me that she looked at me, even through a vacant stare, for those few seconds. Though I hoped she heard me I at least got some level of closure with my Mom.
The next evening, Monday the 23rd, my mother’s breathing grew more shallow still. Her breaths were longer and longer apart. At 10 PM I was sure that Mom was minutes from death. She did not die. We sat around her bed, my dad and my brother and my three sisters and Kathi, all night long. We dozed off and cried and talked and walked the hallways of the darkened nursing home.
Though Mom’s breathing was so shallow I could not believe that she was still alive it kept getting more shallow still. At 5:19 AM on Tuesday June 24th Mom took a last, quiet, shallow breath and simply did not take another one. It was as quiet and peaceful as any death I could imagine. It was God’s blessing to my Mom.
I am 55 years old and have never lost a person who was close to me. The emptiness and sense of loss in me since my Mom began to deteriorate two years ago was intensified by her actual passing. There are times when I am intensely sad and times when I am numb and times when I cannot quite believe that she is gone.
This has been a hard, sad, good week. Our family pulled together in love for each other and in labor for my Dad as we prepared for the memorial service and the many guests. We talked about Mom and remembered her fondly and began the initial work of processing a loss as great as a mother—and a very selfless and generous mother at that.
God did about four dozen things that I know of to help us through this loss and the details of dealing with the loss—and I am sure that He has done many more things of which I am not aware. I am deeply grateful to Him.
I am also deeply grateful to the Cypress Bible Church Family. Thank you for praying for me and my family. Thank you for the cards and emails and flowers and calls. It is all appreciated. It has all helped. Believe me, it has all helped.
With a sense of sadness I deleted my mother’s number today. With a sense of joy I reflected on her life and faith.
