The Day You Left Me…

Dad and I stayed at your bedside the entire night. We didn’t leave. We didn’t get up, not even once. I didn’t sleep anymore than just the occasional head bob from extreme exhaustion and dad took cat naps from time to time. Knowing dad the way that I do, I think he was probably praying more than he was sleeping. I watched you closely as your body grew weaker with each passing hour. I knew your life was slowly slipping away and that your time on this earth would soon be over. I still hung onto this small hope that a miracle would take place and you would soon be healed by God Himself. I knew this was a stretch, but for God, nothing is impossible. I knew you would soon leave us, and that God really was calling you home. Despite my pleas for healing and a miraculous intervention, I knew that it was just your time to go. I reached out to everyone and let them know that you didn’t have much longer and if anyone wanted to come and say goodbye, now would be the time to do so. Your grandchildren came and surrounded you with love. Perhaps you heard their farewells and felt their hugs and kisses. The room was quiet except for a few whispers, and everyone shed lots of tears for you. We didn’t realize that you would leave us the very next day.

One year ago today. One year ago today, I lost you. I lost my mother. I sat beside you while you struggled to breathe. I watched as each breath was harder than the one before. As your body began to shut down, and your breaths became raspy, I knew the end was near. I couldn’t believe that I was actively watching your life leave your body. To say that it was a peaceful passing would be a lie. It was painful. I watched you gasp for air and I knew that with each breath you struggled to take, you fought to stay with us. Your eyes grew wider as you desperately fought for your life. It was terrifying to watch as your last breath left your body and the beautiful woman I knew for 35 years was about to leave me. Your death wasn’t something I was prepared for. Even though I knew that this horrible disease would one day take you from us, I never once gave up hope for you. I never stopped praying for you to be healed. God didn’t choose to heal you, but that’s ok. I’m so thankful that I was able to hold your hand and tell you to go to Jesus. I watched the life leave your body and when you were gone, I closed your eyes and kissed you goodbye. That will be a moment that I will forever cherish. You brought me into this world. You held me and kissed me, comforted me and loved me. And on this first day of spring, one year ago, at 2:00pm, I held you and kissed you, comforted you and loved you and watched you as you left this world. You were there for me at the beginning of my life and I was there for you at the end of yours.

It almost seems fitting that you would pass away on the first day of spring. You loved spring time. You enjoyed sitting outside on the front porch reading one of the thousands of books you owned. You loved being outside and loved the fresh air and sunshine. I always knew spring had come when you started opening up all the windows and the smell of Pinesol and Windex filled the air. Spring cleaning always had such a sweet smell. I remember hearing the birds chirping and feeling the cool spring air blow through the windows. Those memories will never fade.

I think of you everyday and I wish that you could be here to see Logan and the rest of your grandchildren. I know you would enjoy every moment with them. I know you are looking down on them and I know you are up there with baby Grace, holding her and kissing her. Thank you for being my mom for 35 years. Thank you for raising me to be strong as well as loving and compassionate. I hear your laugh when I laugh, and I see your smile when I smile. You are with me everyday and I can still hear your voice loud and clear as if you were in the room with me. My memories of you will never fade, and your personality is alive and well inside of me. I love you so much, mom. You never dreamed that you’d have another child at the age of 42, but I’m so thankful that you did. I’m so very blessed to have had you as my mom. You were one amazing woman.