Eyes Wide Open~ My Farewell to Mom

Coming out of silence in regards to the following topic has been very challenging for me. The level of sensitivity is still overwhelming, but I’ve finally found my voice this week. I’d just like to update my followers on what my journey has been like over recent months. Perhaps quite a few of you will be able to relate to many things I have to say.

​​2017 was a very eventful year for me. To call it a “HUMDINGER” would have to be an understatement. I will go on record and classify it as being one of the most profound years I’ve survived in a longtime. So many things I care about were either compromised, questioned or removed from me. Although there were times I could see the path to the mountain top, there were more moments spent treading in deep waters. I endured a multitude of consecutive heartbreaks, but the one which pierced my soul the deepest, was the loss of my mother.

Although mom had been ill for nearly 15 years, the impact it had on me after she departed was “earth-shattering.” There’s no ideal way to grieve the loss of a loved one and for most, nothing “on this earth” truly fills that void. The Blessing however is that God comforts when no one else will. He is the best listener at any given moment, and I often thank Him for His Love, Grace and Mercy. Even as I continue to process this great loss, the best I can do is take it day-by-day.

The Friday morning Mom’s nurse informed our family she would not be with us much longer, as you imagine was an emotional one. The loss of a loved one is surely a concept we must all face at some point in time. However, when that time finally comes around any time spent in mental preparation... can feel null and void. The mere thought of knowing you will not see someone you love (on this side of life) again, can be a hard pill to swallow. My mom has always been my best friend and even after Alzheimer's had completely taken over, we’d had a lot of fun together. What a Blessing it’s been to be loved by her, and have such an unconditional relationship. Although her cognition was practically depleted, I could not imagine my life without being able to hug, kiss and talk to her. I understood that losing her is a pain I would have to endure, but it was still very difficult to grasp.

The Sunday she passed, I felt unusually tired. Upon waking up that morning, I’d contemplated not going to visit. Was feeling heavy, emotionally drained and just plain, depressed. Had practically concluded I might sit that day out. After all, my son Jon and I had just left her bedside around 10:30 the previous night. I had gone to see Mom every single day leading up to that moment, minus 2-days in earlier weeks. The only reason I hadn’t seen her on those days, is due to the fact I was feeling ill. Her transition was nearly a month long from the night she was rushed to the hospital. The truth is, all the running back and forth to her bed-side had become excruciating. I was literally watching life slowly seep from her body, and after every visit all I could do is feel sad the process would not be reversed. It was indeed God’s will, but a selfish part of me wanted to see her bounce back and stay a bit longer. The reality however, is I knew my mother was tired and needed to go on to rest. It just didn’t eliminate the heartfelt pain of the fact she was slipping away.

A week prior to dying, she’d become lethargic and could not maintain eye contact. She actually appeared to be looking through, or past me. I truly believe she was seeing our ancestors, who were waiting patiently for her to join them on the other side. The week before that, I’d seen a white glow illuminate around her body many people say precedes death. This is also known to be accompanied by a sudden burst of energy and alertness. I’d witnessed those things as well when my Dad found the strength to come see her. She really perked up that day, and I genuinely felt like she was glad to see him and/or feel his presence. The image I captured of her on camera that particular day, was astounding. Uncanny, yet remarkably beautiful. She looked like an angel about to take flight.

For several weeks, Jonathan would sit in the chair opposite of me and intently watch my interaction with Mom. During every visit I’d sing one of her favorite hymns as beautifully as I could. I would sing “Pass me Not (O Gentle Savior),” one of the first gospel songs she’d taught me as a little girl. Despite the fact my son has autism, he seemed to be fully aware something was about to transpire. For some reason, I just couldn’t find the words to explain it to him. Perhaps it was too painful for me to even express. To be honest, at that time I wasn’t sure I could convey it in a manner in which he’d understand anyway.

I would sing to mom over and over while rubbing her head, and showering her with tons of kisses. Did my best to reduce any anxiety she might have been feeling, and assure her she was going to be okay. My sister and I always made sure we kept her comfortable, and constantly talked to her unless she was sleeping.

As I mentioned previously, the Sunday she died I was contemplating whether or not I should go, because I was so dog-tired. Feeling completely drained, I cat napped and laid around most of the day. By evening time, I finally managed to get myself up to go. The plan was just to keep my visit short, but very sweet. My boyfriend (at the time) agreed to ride along, just in case things became unbearable for me. My greatest fear had always been that she would die at a time which caught me off guard. So the mere thought of that possibility, constantly kept me on my toes.

Before we could completely leave the driveway, an odd “708” number rang my phone. When I saw it, I already knew what was going to happen, or what had already transpired. Upon answering, I was greeted by the hospice nurse who informed me mom was literally about to pass. I told her I was on my way as we were speaking. After I hung up, I called right back to ask her professional opinion of how much longer Mom might last. She said maybe 15 minutes tops, and my heart started to race profusely. At that point, my guy insisted we switch seats so he could drive. Not many minutes went by, before I called the nurse back, AGAIN. This time, I asked if she would put me on speaker phone so my mother could hear my voice loud and clearly. The nurse told me she would, and I began speaking to Mom while desperately trying to fight back tears. The most I can remember is as follows:

“Hello Mom…it’s me. I just want you to know I am in the car and on my way to see you. I should be there very shortly. You know I’m coming…. I always do. Listen…Mom I understand that you need to go on. If you cannot wait for me to get there I understand. But if you wait just a bit longer so I can get one last kiss from you, I will appreciate it sooooo much. Either way, I am very Grateful to God for giving me a Mom like you. You are the best, most beautiful mother in the whole world any girl could ask for… and I love you so, so much!!! I love you mom. Jonathan loves you. Dad loves you and Dian loves you. Dad’s heart breaks for you, but he loves you to the point it’s painful to see you right now. That is why he could not come back. Thank you for loving me, thank you for teaching me all the wonderful and important things, but especially how to treat people. You are amazing and I promise I will remember everything you said and continue to be the type of woman you’ve raised me to be. Your spirit will live through me. You will always live in me. Mom, you are about to go see the Lord, Ma Dear, Grand Daddy and your sisters. Oh my goodness, and yes... our sister Karen, your favorite Uncles, Aunts AND Tee-Tee! You’re gonna have such a great reunion up there with in Heaven, and please send them all my love. I love you Mom! Again, I am in the car and on my way to see you right now. If you can, please wait a few more minutes but if you have to go… I will understand. I love you dearly…”

Through the phone, I could hear a few people in the room sobbing. After the nurse took me off speaker phone, she told me when mom heard my voice she attempted to gasp for more air. My heart sank. I hung up the phone feeling powerless, in a daze, and numb as though I was floating outside of my body. I didn’t come back to reality until my guy grabbed my hand, and told me that my words to mom were beautiful.

When we pulled up to the front of the building, I don’t remember when my feet actually touched the ground. Just recall rushing as quickly as I could through the automatic doors. The second door which usually needed to be buzzed for entry, was miraculously open. I ran pass the nurse’s station and asked if she was still breathing. I heard someone respond, “I think so” and I continued to her room. Once I got in there, I immediately grabbed her hand and told her I was there. The nurse informed me that she had just taken another breath. I kissed her face several times, and once again told her how much I love her. I went on to reiterate as much as I could remember saying, over the speaker phone. Not sure why I felt the need to do that… but I did. Made it a point to tell her “I love you,” repeatedly until I said “good-bye I’ll see you again someday.” I sang her favorite hymn a couple of times and could have sworn I saw a white, transparent image float down the left side of her body. Eventually I looked across the room over to my right, and noticed my guy was in the chair with a misty look in his eyes. I asked the nurse, “so what now?” She responded by telling me vitals should be checked to get a status. She checked Mom’s pulse, and listened for a heartbeat. Nothing. She decided to get another machine to check again and got no activity. The next thing she did is look up at me and say…. “I’M SO SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS.” Out of that entire month, I can honestly say it’s the first moment I’d COMPLETELY lost it. Up to that point, I had been trying to remain in balance, holding it all together for my son and my Dad. I had become “Super Chick,” while trying to prepare myself for that particular moment in time. When I heard those words escape that nurse’s mouth, all I can remember is wailing out and doubling over in pain. Found myself holding my knees, standing in the threshold of the doorway facing outwards, just crying hysterically.

Somewhere around 8:30 pm she was gone. Her spirit was

officially absent from this plane we call earth, and she had fought a very long fight with Dementia and Alzheimer's. If there was anyone who deserved to rest, it was her.

Bless her sweet heart and her sweet soul...

After I calmed down a bit, I turned back around to face the body. At that point, the nurse informed me Mom had literally taken her last breath as I was speaking to her. I felt so grateful to God she actually waited for me to arrive before she left. She waited for her baby. Her youngest born. She had received a visit from my sister (her first born) early that morning, and did not leave until she received a visit from me (her last born) that evening. I thanked her spirit for that, and praised God for allowing her the extra bit of time for the both of us. I’m eternally grateful to have been there to see her off, and truly believe she felt love for me even as she was taking her last breath. Perhaps my voice comforted her as she was crossing over to the other side. Her voice had to be one of the first voices I heard as I was coming into this world. It’s so amazing to think I was the last one (on earth) she heard, as she was exiting out of it.

To be honest, I was glad God had it timed to perfection. When that call came through, I was already in route. The choreography was astounding, and I’m so grateful I was present to assist in guiding her through transition. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It happened this way, because God knew how much I wanted to be holding her hand as she was crossing over.

My sister came back to join me so we could comfort each other, and follow necessary protocol. I’ll never forget feeling hot tears flow down my chest as her body was being rolled out to the hearse. I literally watched it drive away until it was completely out of my sight.

After that experience, a lot of things within me transitioned. Needless to say, so did my tolerance for certain types of situations and scenarios. Whatever level of consciousness I’d already acquired, seemed to have ascended higher. As mom’s eyes were preparing to close, mine were beginning to open up much wider. I was coming out of a fog and seeing everything clearly, in Technicolor. It LITERALLY felt like another rebirth. Found myself only being drawn to beautiful scenarios and “real truth… in real time.” In lieu of family circumstances, looking back I realize I had gotten quite a bit off track. Stress can cause any of us to not be the best version of ourselves. However through my mother's passing, I experienced a quantum shift which inspired me to "clean house" again. Somethings had to go, and it was A-OK. It was all necessary so my Destiny could finally begin to unfold. I could live "full out" with no more holding back, or "dummying down" for the comfort of others. It was time to fall back into alignment, so I could receive all of God’s Blessings waiting for me. This time, the beautiful thing is I would focus on fulfilling my purpose, with Mommy as my newest Angel.

God’s timing is perfect and as I begin to resume my life, I remember everything happens for a reason. I’ve never quite felt more open than I do right now, and God knows I’m ready to walk completely in my purpose. Life is too short, and there’s no time like the present. The day mom died, felt like the first day of the rest of my life.

A couple weeks after her passing, my son and I went to the Lakefront to relax. While we were there, he inquired about his Grand Mother’s whereabouts. I found the words to explain to him she was gone, and would not be coming back. Pointing upwards and simply put, I told him she had gone to Heaven to be with the Lord. Told him that although Grand Ma was now living in the sky, she was also living in our hearts. He began to smile so widely, I could practically see every tooth in his mouth. He then pointed up into the sky and repeated everything I said, just beaming even more. I nodded my head in agreement and we sat arm in arm smiling at the gray sky above us. On cue, the sun began to peak through the clouds and I felt Abundant Joy fill my spirit. It caused me to tell him our late family member, Lisa (who we called “Sunshine”), was also up there with her. Somehow, I was convinced Lisa’s sunny spirit had permeated through the clouds to remind us Mom was in GREAT hands. Lisa used to also be one of her caregivers. Every now and then, my son will ask me how much longer before we see Grand Ma again, and my answer is always…. “80 more years. We have a lot more living to do." -LOL

This has been one heck of a journey, and I finally understand what people mean when they say they are “taking things day-by-day.” The wonderful part however, is that I know her spirit is at peace now and with me wherever I go.

I have not met one person who did not love the beautiful spirit my mom possessed. One of my greatest prayers is that people will feel the same way about me while I am very much alive… and long after I’m gone.

Thank you so much for reading this heartfelt entry and Continued Blessings to ALL!!!