All is well

My mother passed away. This is an event I have literally dreaded since I can remember. When I was in college my parents would let me know if they had plans or were going anywhere because if I called they house and they didn't answer soon I was known to start calling the hospitals and police in search for what I knew must have been some sort of terrible accident killing both of my parents. Yes, vivid imagination. And this was before the invention of cell phones, text messages or Facebook so it was very hard for them to let me know they would be out of the house for an evening. But I lived in constant dread of losing my parents. I knew that if that happened I would not be able to survive. I would like to say over time this feeling of impending doom got better but no, not really. When my father died and my mother lived alone I installed a nanny cam. This way I could open an app on my phone and see if my mom was sitting in her chair or passed out dead. If she didn't answer her phone I would look then give her 5 minutes to get back from the bathroom before I would begin calling my sister to see if she had heard from mom, could she run over there and check on her or I would drive into OKC and then I would find she had been outside looking at the flowers or in art room painting and hadn't heard the phone. So when my mom recently became critical all my fears came crashing in. My mom was 79 years old, in constant pain from RA, respiratory problems and now ARDS. She longed for Heaven and to be reunited with my dad and Jacob. But I wasn't ready. I wanted more time, I could not survive. The last 48 hours of her life I sat with her around the clock leaving for a short 2 hour nap on the 2nd day. I sat holding her hand, watching the machines and telling her I loved her and would not leave her side. As they put her on the ventilator I knew there was no turning back. That day had come. I knew I was losing my fight to keep my mother alive. I panicked, I cried, I bargained, I pleaded for just one more I love you, one more patting my hand but I knew that would never happen. I got angry, why did she get to die, go to Heaven and be with my Jacob? It didn't seem fair. As the hour came to take her off the ventilator I dreaded each moment, each heart beat, each breath was taking us one step closer to her dying. Every second that ticked by was one second closer to death claiming my mother. I have been with death. I sat as my grandmother died. The family gathered around to wait for death and while no one was watching she left us. She silently quit breathing. Peaceful. I was with my uncle as he spastically coughed through his last breath as his cancer ridden lungs cease to breathe. I stood by my mother in law's side as her mother grimaced from pain then ceased to be. No more breathing. I watched as my uncle unexpectedly died catching the hospice and family off guard. I sat with my aunt's lifeless body because no one should have to be alone, cold in a room waiting for the hearse to come and fetch your body. I collapsed in the floor and ran from the room screaming as I witnessed my son's lifeless body lay on the gurney in the ER. Death and I were on a first name basis. But waiting for Death to enter the room while the slowly remove the ventilator is interminable. Waiting, while the machines are turned off and removed. Waiting as she continues to breath short little breaths, placing your fingers on her neck to feel her heart continue to beat then slowly very slowly is stops. One second it beats then it ceases-ceases to keep my precious mother alive. Death has entered the room. Death of my mother that moment in time I have lived a life dreading is here. It came so quietly, so silently slipped in the room as we waited and watched. No one noticed death take hold it just happened. And I continued to breathe, my heart continued to pump, I was still alive. My mother's words came ringing back to me. I would crawl up in her lap and tell her I couldn't imagine her dying and she would pat my check and tell me yes, I would be ok. I would make it without her and to not be sad but rejoice. As I lay there with my hands wrapped around hers, still warm but still I wondered if her words would come true. Would I be ok? My mother was dead, my best friend was dead, the woman I had worked so hard to keep alive for the past 4 years was dead. I wondered. Almost immediately a sense of peace and comfort came over me. I had cried so many tears in the 2 days building up to this moment that I had none left but there was no need. A calm reverent peace invaded my very being. Yes, I was sad but I was calm and comforted. The following days as we planned the service, which did not include a 40 minute song service by an overzealous music minister, I was calm. In the days after we buried my mother as I go to her house to get legal papers and check on things I am calm. Today, as I left UCO and for the first time in 4 years I did not turn south to go take care of my mother but went west, home, I am calm. I questioned my sanity. I know grief, I experienced and have lived it for 3 1/2 years. This was not the grief I was familiar with. Was I silently go mad? Did I not feel anymore? Was I dead on the inside to pain or feelings of any kind? Then I slowly felt the prayers as they had been covering me for the past week. A peace that can only come from one place, God. My mother is dead, in Heaven with God Almighty, walking the streets in high heels walking hand in hand with my daddy and Jacob. And that brings peace. Peace that even though I miss her and there will be lonely days peace in knowing she was ready she is pain free. Peace in knowing I will see her again. A peace that I have not felt for a long time. No longer fearing my mother dying but a peace in knowing all is well. I will miss you momma.