Before I start my post, I just wanted to apologize for my long absence. My Mom was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer in late January and I became her primary care giver. With all of the trips to the doctor, taking care of her and retaking over all of the chores, I did not have a lot of time left to me after taking into consideration that I was also keeping up with my full-time job. Thank God I work from home!
At any rate, my Mom died on the morning of May 6th. She died at home surrounded by those she loved. At the time of her death, my sister was holding one of her hands, I was holding the other, and my eldest daughter Maddie was stroking her head... And that brings me around to today's post. I originally started writing this post on May 9th. Unfortunately, I have been very busy, and when not busy, very, very tired and/or sick. Today I have some time, so I thought I would try to finish my thoughts. While my Mom was alive in those last few weeks, I watched her get weaker and weaker. So much so, that I sometimes thought that the next time I came into the room, she would not be alive My Mom wanted to die at home, so I wasn't really worrying about her dying. I was more worried about how she felt when she died, and how I could make sure that she knew she was loved. I started thinking that if our roles were reversed, what would I want the final thing I consciously heard to be. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I came to the conclusion that the last thing I would want to hear would be my daughters telling me that they loved me. My wife passed away about four years ago now, so I know it won't be her telling me that. After fifty years, and the loss of a number of people that I love, I can only tell you that all that really matters to me anymore are my daughters. House, money, cars, none of it matters. The only thing that matters to me are the people that have made it into my heart. To get back to my Mom, I wanted her to feel loved right up to the moment of her death... and, if it was possible, I wanted the last thing she heard was someone close to her telling her that they loved her. Immediately, I started telling her I loved her whenever I was leaving the room. I made sure that it was the last thing I said to her... in case she died while I was downstairs or sleeping. When she could, she said it back to me as well. I told my daughters what I was trying to do for Neema, and they both joined along and made sure "I love you Grandma" was the last thing they said to her whenever they left the room. Near the end of her life, when she was fading fast, I called my sister Michelle to come up to New Hampshire so that she would have some time to speak with my Mom as well. I told her what the girls and I were trying to do and she quickly started the practice as well. If we were lucky, we wanted her last memory to be that of someone who loved her telling her that they loved her. In the end, I think we accomplished our goal. I think the last thing she consciously heard was my sister or I telling her that we loved her. Once she slipped into a coma, she may have been able to hear any of us say the same thing because Maddie Michelle and I would still speak to her and finish by telling her we loved her. My one worry is that after a person dies, their brain can stay active for up to ten minutes. I hope that after she passed away, it didn't frighten her when I announced to my sister and daughter that she had no pulse, and that there was no respiration. I hope her final memories were of us, all telling her we loved her in our own way. In the end, I can't think of a more beautiful way to die... surrounded by those you loved and who loved you back. I have now witnessed the death of two people I loved very much... my wife died in my arms four years ago. And now my Mom died while I held her hand. That is more grief than any one person should experience in a lifetime and I am hoping that the remaining people I love stay very healthy and do not die until well after I have turned to dust. During my life, I have continually searched for the meaning of life. I must confess that I haven't found one that works for everybody. For me, my daughters bring my life meaning. Without them, I think everything I have done would, in the end, be meaningless. Everyone needs something to cling to. Something that brings meaning to their life. What is it for you? For my Mom, I suspected it was the love she had for her family. I wanted the last word she heard to celebrate that meaning. I hope that it did!
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