At this point, I did what every child would do who faced such a finality: I waited. Each day up to this point of the story, about six days in from the beginning, I tried to make momma as comfortable as I knew how. Between the linen changes performed by the nurse’s staff, the visits by the doctor to sign documentation and to inform me that each day MIGHT be the day, relatives visiting, and the occasional issue with family acting like they knew best, I would take time to lay next to her, talk to her, and clean her fingernails… it was like I couldn’t ever get them clean.
I was given pamphlets on how to deal with death, or the process on what the body goes through when it is in its ‘final stages‘. They worded them with ‘walking on egg shell‘ accuracy as to not offend or scare anyone, yet the words brought no real comfort, only information that, if not careful, brought you closer to letting go of your faith.
I watched as her body failed day by day; her breathing began to get more and more laboured, as she survived on just an I.V. and morphine drip. Her body went through the stages laid out in the pamphlet; her vital organs began to shut down little by little, and her body fed upon itself and she lost weight quite rapidly. All I could do is witness as the physical death took hold of her because each day, I died a little with her.
See, at that time, I did not know that this HAD to happen for the inner spirit to join with the Divine Spirit. The cage of the flesh had to be broken, as the soul prepared to leave the shell and join with the Father. The process can be instant, or over time. This truth was revealed long after I went through my own hell, so to speak.
The nurses tried to assure me that she was not suffering, saying that the morphine would keep the pain away, yet that’s not what I felt from her. I felt the hurt, and that hurt was the reason why she could not leave yet. She needed to know that her sons would be okay when she left. My two older brothers had not been up to see her yet; one at the time was not to be found… the other was fearful and wrestled with his own demons. My daddy was diligent in his search for my oldest brother, and soon found him and informed him of the issue with momma. He rushed up to the hospital; my other brother was finally convinced to come and see her before her time was up.
This is when her hurt began to subside, and she truly prepared for Glory. To be continued…