Ribbons of Love

It was the best day of her life, 36 hours before she died.

Dying mother, black sheep cliché, I had been called to my home state. Our Mom was surprisingly in her final days. Sudden onset of a terminal condition, she would pass within a week. This was on a Monday, Wednesday would be her 88th birthday, Saturday she died. What happened within those 5 days informed me in ways that stunned, delighted and then devastated me.

Mom was happy to see me and wonderfully alert. Thankfully, we had sweet gentle conversations between the business of dying. Hospice, monitoring medications, allowing visitors and then fending off visitors, my sisters and I went into emergency action.

I found myself sitting often by the head of her in-home hospital bed where she could reach over to touch me or I could stroke her hair. About 48 hours into the vigil she looked at me intently and whispered, “Am I forgiven?” I quickly said yes. She asked again, a touch sterner in her mom way, “Am I forgiven?” Was she asking me whether I forgave her? (Black sheep issues.) Or was she asking universally? I didn’t know for sure and it really didn’t matter either way because the answer honestly given, as I looked intently into her eyes was YES. “Really?” she whispered, “Yes.” I responded, “Really.” She fell asleep a while after that, squeezing my hand.

The day after her birthday, things shifted in a way that made me know the end was coming sooner than I had thought. Lots of life changing things happened in those 5 days, a…