The night before my mother died, we were taking turns sitting with her (she was lucky enough to die in her own bed) and I had the overnight watch from around 10 PM to the next morning.
She had been unresponsive for several days and they didn’t think she would make it through the night.
I was able to sit with her, and I held her hand and talked to her at intervals over the hours, it was a one way conversation as you can imagine. She was unresponsive and did not move at all, her eyes closed as she breathed heavily.
Around 3 AM, in the dim, quiet room, I felt like she was going to pass any minute, her breathing was so labored.
I told her how much I appreciated all she had done for me, and how much I loved her.
Her eyes opened, she looked directly at me, and said “I know that.” Then her eyes closed again and she returned to her inert state.
I was so astonished, I felt like I had been hit by an emotional thunderbolt. It was like looking at the moon on a cloudy night, not seeing it, then for just a couple of seconds, the moon emerges from a gap in the clouds, and is fully visible, only to become shrouded again a few seconds later.
I don’t know if she was aware at all, but I felt so lucky, as if I had been given a few more seconds with her, to talk to her one last time.
She did not expire that night, and at 7 AM, my wife picked me up and we went to breakfast and then took a ride to the seashore. I was standing by the water throwing rocks, when my brother called to tell me she had passed.
This threat has had a strong emotional impact on me.
I never fully addressed my mother’s death many years ago. My siblings simply moved on, and the family dissipated.
For a new dad I’m old as hell. I have a newborn; when she is 20 I will be 70. I have another one who will be 21 when I am 70. I think about my mortality in regards to them. That saddens me. My entire focus on this earth is to protect them.
Sorry for the stream-of-thought, wardaddy-esque post. I now need to find a cute photo of kittens or puppies.
My father was at a hospice center and they had said to gather family as he would be passing soon. This was in Kentucky and about 30 family and friends gathered in the room, a large room for this purpose. Everyone was singing hymns and I was holding my father’s hand telling him it was okay to go. He had been a wonderful father and his kids and our Mom were ready, no need to hang on and suffer any longer. I was thinking what a wonderful time to pass on, like a scene from a movie.
He opened his eyes and said, “I’m not ready to go yet”. The room fell quiet. He closed his eyes and continued his labored breathing and the singing started up again.
The next morning he was sitting up in bed eating a large breakfast. He passed several days after.
You just never know when someone is is going to pass on. They let go when they are ready.
You are/were a good son, rlmorel. Your story brought tears.