"A WAY TO SAY GOODBYE"

I had visited with my mom on Saturday night, and she felt as if she needed to tell me something’s that had been bothering her for many years. As I listened, I remember thinking how badly I felt for her to have so many unresolved battles in her life, for so many years. She was a Christian woman, and had been doing a lot of reading and praying ... I knew she was searching for something, but until that night, I had never known what. I really did not say too much, that night, I just listened and reassured her that my love for her was strong, and much of what she told me didn’t change anything for me. I did not leave there upset over our conversation. But, I also didn’t leave there thinking she was feeling much better after talking.

I had tried to reach her the next day, but did not get an answer by phone, I didn’t think too much about that, as it was Sunday, and she attended church, and had friends that she would on occasion spend time with. I was usually busy on Sunday’s, and often we would not talk by phone on that day. Though I still felt very restless inside, I didn’t think it had to do with her.

On Monday, I called her early, like normal, we would talk in the mornings, and just get caught up on anything we had done or brainstorm something about life together. Her line was busy, but that didn’t seem odd to me either. I figured she would call me later herself, and I just got busy with my day. By noon, I had not heard from her, so I called her again, and the line was still busy. I remember thinking, she either is talking a lot today to her friends, or she talked all night and is napping with her line off the hook. I muddled on through my own day, thinking a lot of what we had talked about on Saturday night. I had some things I wanted to say to her about all that, just to reassure her once again that all was well. Around 5pm, I called her again, and her line was still busy, this concerned me now...and I decided to drive to her house.. I thought probably her phone line had a problem, and I should go tell her this. I felt very nervous on my drive there, and kept wondering why I was so uncomfortable. She had always been my best friend in life.. my only parent, and I was thinking about all she meant to me as I drove to her house.

When I arrived, I knocked on her door, yelling to her it was me, but she did not answer, so I tried the door handle, and to my surprise, the door was not locked. I went inside thinking, she must of called my house and found out I was on my way there, so she unlocked the door for me ahead of time. I was not prepared for what I was about to find.

I went to her bedroom, and found her laying there unconscious. Being a nurse, I checked for her pulse, and counted her heart rate, I shook her, but she did not respond. After all the training I had had as a nurse, I called 9-1-1, and I reported the details and asked them to please hurry. I hung-up and quickly moved things around so when they arrived they could get to her quickly. I called my brother, then a mIRC friend in North Carolina, and asked for prayer to get started. (By the way, to this day, I have no idea how I called that friend. I did not have her phone number written down or memorized.)

The fire rescue squad arrived, and soon after so did my brother. They asked a lot of questions...and I knew none of the answers. I could not think of my mom’s first name, (she went by her middle name), her birth-date, any medicines she was taking. They knew I was a nurse, and they were very frustrated with me...which made things worse by the minute. They took her to a local hospital, and much was done for her there, but they soon told me they could not help her need, and would have to air flight her out to another city. I still could not tell them much about her, and my brother could not be of much help either. I had to drive to the next city, and I don’t remember how I got there, as I had never driven there before. When I got inside and off the elevator, there were three doctors waiting for me, and the news was, she had a diffusive brain bleed, and there was nothing that could be done surgically to stop it. They would do all they could do but no promise that she would make it through that night. My whole world was spinning and I could not think straight.

I had been so mixed up for awhile with just life in general, and I felt like life just ended for myself. I was functioning, but nothing was making sense to me at all. Anytime someone would mention prayer to me, I would become very agitated and hateful. I kept thinking, how could I be loosing the one and only person on earth that I had always believed loved me. I was her friend, her daughter, and a nurse. I had a three way war inside myself from that day until the following Monday night when the decision was made to pull the life support.

I struggled with every decision that had to be made...no-one would ever tell me what to do, the standard answer was, decide with your heart...and I would think "HEART???" what heart...it is broken to pieces...how can I do that? I was afraid to be at the hospital, and I was afraid to leave it. No matter where I was, I was afraid. I hated it if the phone rang while I was at home, but I hated it if it didn’t. When I would go to the hospital, I was afraid to go to her room, but I was afraid not to.

I would think with my friend-and-daughter thoughts...which were hang on ,don’t let her go, and I would think with my nurse thoughts, let her go! I would try to pray, but I was so mad at God, that those prayers were just muddled though very honest. I did talk to my dearest friend, "grampa," often by phone, and he would encourage me to rest, eat, and pray. Mostly he would just listen to me, and say, "bless your heart, honey." He called often, and that did help a lot. I knew he understood somehow, and he would tolerate my attitude no matter what it might be. He was a safe place to share what I was feeling about anyone or anything.

My mother did regain consciousness slightly, and I was able to talk to her and she would nod her head.. she made it clear to me she did not want the life support already intact, but seemed to understand when I would tell her that I did not know that was going to be done for her. I did read to her Psalm 139, and prayed with her mid-week, and she seemed aware the entire time, by squeezing my hand all the way through to amen...I had no idea when we said amen, that my mother was soon going to leave earth. The doctors continued to be optimistic that she would recover, and though I could see with my own nursing eyes that did not seem possible, my daughter/friend heart was so hopeful.

But, God had His plans, and timing, and once again, I had mine. It is a miracle, when He and I are at the same time line in anything. A week from the day I found her in her home, I had to make the hardest decision in my life this far, and it was to pull the life support, she was brain dead, and I knew that there was no return for her now. We set a time, and gathered in her room for this...I kept feeling like I was about to murder my own mother, and that thought stayed with me for weeks afterwards. She did not linger beyond one short breath once the ventilator was pulled, and for that I will always be most thankful.

I stayed in her room alone for three hours with her. I kept trying to decide how do you really say good-bye to your own mother, and get up and walk away? I felt as if I didn’t do that, I would struggle harder beyond that moment. Eventually, the hospital chaplain came in and set beside me, he talked to me a lot about heaven, the past, present, and future. He was very gentle mannered, and sweet spirited. He would encourage the rest of my family to be patient, and give me that time alone with her.

It is hard to sit and look at someone that has been your rock on earth, and know that they are not going to be there as before anymore. It is hard to be sure they really knew how much you did love them, it is hard to know if you were all you should of been to them through the years.. and it is hardest to know, that what was, was, and you can not add or take away one thing.

I did come to a way to say good-bye, and it was just simply, "mom, I will truly be home on time." As a teen-ager, I had a hard time keeping curfews, and to me, going home on time meant my day of death and joining her would be on time! (for once.)

I did all the necessary things beyond that day to lay her to rest, and take care of any of her unfinished business. I seldom would allow myself to grieve over her death. I kept feeling as though a Christian should be rejoicing over the death of a saint...grieving would be the wrong way to deal with it.

It has been 8 months now, and I still have not allowed myself to go there and grieve as I should...I know I am still not happy with God for this...and I know that in so many ways, I have kept myself separated from Him. It is like I am afraid to trust Him with anything, after years of knowing HE was the only ONE you could trust forever with your everything.

It doesn’t make sense to me...still. I have no answers for the way I feel, or the changes I have made in my own life. But, I am honest about this...so perhaps that is a start .

As far as the phone being busy that day, it was off the hook when I arrived, her door was unlocked, as I mentioned earlier, she had not taken any of her medicines since Sunday night at 10pm, she had not made coffee on Monday. I will never know what happened to my mother.. if she knew what was happening to her, or if she was afraid. That haunts me still to this day.

Author's Postscript: My mother was such a country western music fan and I want to add one chorus of a song that means lots to me...when I hear it, I think of her.