Saying Goodbye

So, what could be harder than saying goodbye to your Mom.

Actually, thinking that you can make it through and that you'll be ok when the time comes.

My mother passed away on June 12, 2006, 9:00am. Pretty much, we knew it was coming to that, she had reached a point in her life and health where Hospice needed to come in and take over care. From that point on, you know that loved one is on their way out. But out could be days, weeks, months. It doesn't always mean tomorrow or even right away. It just means, that their condition has reached a point to where there is nothing more the medical team can do for them, or that the dr can do. No other treatment that can be given that could or would make a difference in their recovery. Why? Because they won't recover.

Mom had reached that point. And as much as I knew it was coming, thought I was going to be ok when it happened, thought I was ready, .... I was not.

I had just arrived at work, settled in, turned on my computer when the phone rang. Caller ID just kind of throws at you who is calling. I saw the Hospice Center name and knew within me, this was the call. It was too early for the nurse to be calling me with a routine update. I answered only to hear the nurse say she had some sad news for me, my mother has passed away in her sleep that morning. She had not suffered any pain.

It was like a shot in the heart. What happened to all that strength I said I had, that I told my mother I had, that I had told God I had and would hold onto?

Where was it now? All I could do was think about how I can to get to her, I had to say goodbye. I "needed" to say goodbye.

I called my husband, fell into an emotional mess on the phone, sent a one line email to my dept that I was leaving, then left. One gal walked me out and it was all I could do to keep from just falling apart completely.

I felt numb, hurt, devastated, confused, scared, lost, left alone. I had my family, a loving husband, three great kids, and five of the most wonderful grandchildren, one sister, yet I felt absolutely alone, like I had no one now.

My dad had died when I was three, now my mother was gone. I was alone.

I knew she was so happy now. Her health had been restored, she standing at the feet of Jesus and was reunited with the love of her life. But my heart was broken. Broken into so many pieces. I just wanted to cuddle up in some big easy chair and not get up till all the sadness passed. Could I do that? Could I just sit till it all went away? Why not? Because life goes on and I had to go on with it.

The heartbreak was so painful. Saying goodbye was so hard.

But.... I promised my mother I'd be ok. That I could be ok because she had taught me to be strong and I would make it through the loss, but I would never forget how much I loved her and missed her.

Memory of Mom

I’ve started a journal of Memories of Mom. Something I wanted to so I would never forget anything about her or the times we shared together.

In the midst of this, an entry – a dream I had, July 13, 2006.
A little background – on the one month anniversary of Mom’s passing away, July 12th, I had cried a river of tears, prayed for her to be back where I could hug her and she hug me. Although I didn’t want her to be back to where she was, I wanted her healthy and back to the mom that I remembered, that I could talk to, laugh with.
Thursday night, I had this dream. Mom came back. We were at this big house, atop of a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was big, I think two stories. I don’t know about the weather only that it was not hot, but not cold. It wasn’t cloudy. It was clear.
Mom and I hugged and kissed and then I proceeded to take her around to see everyone, (although I have no idea who “everyone” was). She was happy, smiled shook their hands.
All these people seemed to be just as happy to see her and she was to see them, welcoming her home.
The room was all wood, walls, floors. People were gathered on the outer edges, some standing, some sitting. There were a lot of people. Everyone was so happy.
Mom had her hair done, no oxygen tube, no wheelchair, was walking just fine all by herself. Suddenly we were at my home, just coming into the house. I turned to John and said we needed to go get some more Flintstone vitamins, because my Mom was back. Then I commented that I didn’t know how we going to cover the cost, I had discontinued Mom’s Social Security because she had died.
(Shocker – reality hit!) As I said those words, John looked at me waiting to see how I was going to react. I looked at him repeating, my mom died. But she’s back, she came back. I turned around and there was no one there. I started wondering if I was losing my mind, seriously.
At that moment I was transported back to the “big house”. I was standing outside with a card in my hand to mail to mom. It was quiet; there was no one else around, no noise coming from inside the house. The awesome foam capped waves were falling up against the rocks below the cliff.
I was thinking, where should I mail this to? Oregon? I didn’t have anywhere to mail it to. There was no address for mom. She was gone. She had passed away. Holding the card up, it took flight and it was gone. A breeze just swept it away.

Now I was alone, kind of in awe, a little sad, but more in awe of the whole thing.

When I woke, my first thought was I wanted to go back to sleep, back to my dream where my mom was. Then God showed me this –
He had just given me what I had asked for, time with Mom. Time with the mom I remembered, her health restored, back to how she used to be and surrounded by people that loved her. People that were so happy she was home, were so glad to see her, all the family and friends that had long passed away and were waiting for her in heaven.
This is where mom is, how mom is, and how loving God is.