My Daughter

My Daughter

Friday, September 30, 2011

Mama Last Day of Her Life

Sometime last 14 Sept. 2011, we lost our Mother. She slipped into a coma and lost her ability to communicate with us. Her gaze stared well beyond us, to a place only she could go. My sister massaged her feet; my sister Jade told her how much we loved her. No response, just a deep, labored breath that got shorter every hour.

We let God and destiny take their natural course. But it's excruciatingly ...painful for us. We hold hands and pray. We pray for a smooth departure and a peaceful ascent to heaven. We pray for ourselves. We pray that we will find a way to go on without the only mother we've ever known.

By 6:20 a.m., Mom's breathing is labored and she is perspiring profusely. Suddenly, she stops breathing. Her chest rises with another breath, but it's shallow and weak. My sister and brother their arms around her trying to bring comfort in her last minutes, but she's struggling. In one move, her arms rise up in a contorted web, her eyes and mouth open wide as her head jerks back violently. Her eyes look right into mine and her back arches for one final push. Simultaneously, a guttural sound spews forward like a mortally wounded animal.

Then there is silence. No more breaths. No more beats. Reality penetrates.
My mother is dead.

Without the benefit of circulating blood, Mom's face is turning pale now. Her skin, yellow from jaundice is starting to cool and stiffen, but we are clenched in a group hug trying to console our mammoth loss.

I close my eyes and start to fill my head with as many different visions of my Mom as possible. I know if I just fixate on the cancer-ravaged body I see right now, that image will haunt me every time I think of Mom. I start to detach from the body lying in front of me. I know the spirit that was my mother is now gone., it is traveling at great speed toward the White Light. She is free and strong once more, no longer encumbered by this old and weak body. We are going to honor and care for her body, but this body is not my Mom. It is only the "carrier" of her spirit, much like a car carries us from place to place.

These are the images I want to keep. I want to remember my Mom's life at the peak of vibrancy and not obsess so much on her slowly declining finish. I want to remember the many times we sipped our coffee and talked about the morning news or told funny stories about my daughter in the cool of the evening. My Mom had a rich and happy life that paved her legacy into the hearts of all who knew her.
We are happy coz right now our mother is in the arms of the heavenly father. WE LOVE YOU MA!