Posted: May 4, 08 9:51am

The Last Days with Mom and Dad

We came to the ole farm and turned into the drive. Other siblings and friends were there and parking was limited. When we opened the car doors, we were greeted by dogs licking our legs and hands. As our feet touched the ground, little chickens were inspecting their space. We went onto the side porch and on inside. Everyone was greeted. But, the mood was doleful despite the joy of greeting each other. We walked into the next room that told stories of my sister’s upbringing. I was married when the lake backed up over our farm. My parents had to relocate and chose this farm. Although, this place was not home to me, my family made me love to go there. The rooms were dark and filled with furniture that I grew up with. I always had mixed feelings when I went there. I loved my family but the environment was not a familiar place to me. I spoke to my dad. He was always lively and talkative but today he looked spent. He was friendly and loved for his children to walk in. I walked over to the bed and spoke to my mother. She was unable to talk. She just grunted and squeezed my hand. She said that she knew me. I talked about what I had been doing. I felt that the outside world might help her to revive. It made little difference but she still held my hand tight. I felt something within me slipping away. My emotions were taking hold of me with a thought that I could not accept and I knew it was evident. It was afternoon about 3:30 and I lived twenty miles away, floods of tears rolled down my face and words were getting less and less. Things to talk about were being blocked. I did not want her to know that I was the least bit jaded. I laid my other hand on her face and told her that I loved her. She tried to tell me that she loved me too. Quietly, I stood there propped on the hospital bed with tears dripping like a slow rain. Dad just cleared his throat.

In my despair, I felt a still hush, a voice said to me. “Why don’t you release her and let her go”?

Always before, when I left I always said, “Mama I’ll be back don’t go anywhere.”

And those words were brought to my mind. I replied, “If I’m keeping her here and she is supposed to go, I’ll let her go.”

I had to go in the other room and get rid of my emotions. Then as I started to leave, I held her hand and she held mine tight and I told her again that I loved her and had to go. She grunted. The next morning as I slept, June 13,1989, she slipped away at 1am. At 2 am, I was awakened by a phone call. My sister that said, “Ma’s dead.”

My first thoughts were----- I should not have let her go. My grief overtook me.

My mother was a great Child of God. She lived her faith and studied her Bible and taught us the love God’s Word. She always prepared us for church and kept the evangelist during Revival time. She cooked dinner for the pastors and different ones on Sunday. She made sure everything was done on time at home, and by dad’s side at church. She also helped take care of the grandparents as long as they lived.

They prepared her so beautifully. She had a lovely hairdo and a gorgeous mauve lace gown. I wish she could have seen herself lying there.

She was a mother of one son, and nine daughters. One daughter died as an infant.

She was a spinner in the textile plant as her second job. Her primary job was her family and working on the farm and pleasing my dad. She never had time for herself.

Now, she is at rest from a life of hard work, diabetes, cancer, heart problems and varicose veins.

She has a new life with our Lord in Heaven for Eternity.