"I've lived a long time and I'm ready to go" she had said many times but on one occasion when we with her she added " but I'd miss that tree" which was in resplendent flower outside her window in the nursing home. As my mother had been saying she was ready to go for many years, I went through much soul searching thinking perhaps I was holding on to her. It was as if I was recalling being a five year old girl again not wanting to leave her to go to school, sometimes running home to be with her again. I was shocked to see I still had those emotions. I asked for help to remove the blocks to the awareness of Love's presence, which was not mother's love but God's Love.
The day I took Mum to the nursing home was very upsetting for me. I remember as I walked out I wanted to scream because I couldn't make her better. I dreaded visiting the home because I saw it as a place of fear and for the first few days I would walk around to the back door so I wouldn't see the other patients lying in their beds. Gradually I started to know some of the staff and found them very loving. I started to smile at the other patients as I walked down those long corridors. I used to notice a woman in bed who always looked lovely with her hair done, make up on and jewelry. One day I spoke to her and she commented on the clothes I was wearing. "You wear the style of clothes I used to wear". I held her hand and chatted to her. I then made a point of seeing her each time I visited Mum. A few days before she died I was in her room when her son and daughter-in-law called and I remember feeling it was like I was family too. On my next visit I noticed her bed was empty and felt both sad and happy as she had gone.
My mother was also learning lessons: She was learning to love people other than family and her life in the nursing home was very pleasant with concerts, games and music. With different eyes I could now see it as a place of love instead of fear as I did originally.
Every time Mum would say, "I wish I could go" I would tell her to "Just let go, Mum. Let go of me, let go of Keith (her son) and let go of that tree". One day she leaned over to me and said very quietly "You are holding on to me". I didn't want to hear that because I thought I had released her.
The last day was truly planned by one who knew our best interests. My daughter rang me to ask me to go shopping at the mall that morning, an offer I would normally find to difficult to refuse. However I found myself saying "No I think I should visit Mum this morning" instead of in the afternoon as had been my custom. When I arrived at the nursing home Mum was visibly distressed as she thought my brother Keith had died and she had seen his funeral. She was so convinced it was real she had all the staff sympathizing with her. When I told her it was not true she looked shocked saying "I must be losing my mind" I stayed with her a long time to comfort her and finally said this time from somewhere deep within: "Mum, Let go of me; Let go of Keith and know that God is looking after us. When I added that last statement, I knew I was saying it to myself as well and it was almost as if I felt I had cut the last remnant of the 'special' thread holding us together.
Mum
had a bad cold lasting several weeks and the nurses asked me not
to kiss
her so I had been in the habit of blowing her a kiss,
but on that day it
seemed I was being told to give her a kiss
so I leaned over and said
"Don't worry darling. Everything
is going to be all right and went
home. I rang my brother asking
him to ring her and reassure her he was
all right which he did.
Then she went to a party where I heard she was
very happy. Later
when she was taken back to her room, she had a massive
heart attack.
The matron rang me telling me to come, but she had died
before
we arrived. The nurses were crying. I looked down at Mum and said,
"At last, you are free."Mum had a long standing request that Bill conduct her funeral service and for the eulogy he chose to read a segment from the workbook lesson "There is no Love but God's" which we believe was the final lesson she came to learn.