It may sound really strange to some, but it was the most beautiful death I have ever witnessed.
The last couple of months have just been unbelievable. Someone texted me a couple of weeks ago and said, "How are you?" I replied, "Exhausted, thankful, sad, amazed, scared and at peace." At that point, both my parents were in the hospital, just 2 weeks after my oldest brother passed away unexpectedly.
My brother's death seemed to be "the big event" of my life so far. Kevin was the oldest of us four, and there was no warning that anything was wrong that could take him from us so soon. Little did I know that just two weeks later to the day, our saddest chapter would begin to unravel even further when my mom was admitted to the hospital, and just six days after that my dad would also end up there.
We thought Mom would be okay after a few days. She was released to go to rehab just one day after my dad moved into a room just around the corner from hers. She was doing well at therapy, and after five days, my dad was well enough to join her at the rehab facility. They even got to share a room! Mom commented that they would pretend they were on vacation in a luxury resort. They were so happy to finally be together again.
That happiness was short-lived. Just the following day, Mom began having some problems. My sister said that all morning, she felt worried about Mom. She worried so much, she took a break at work long enough to call the rehab hospital to check on her. She said she just had a gut-feeling that something wasn't right. She left work and went over, and sure enough, Mom was very sick. She called for an ambulance and they headed to the ER.
Dad called me as they were leaving and was absolutely hysterical. He wanted to go with her to the hospital, and of course as a patient, he wasn't allowed to leave. He had never acted so desperate before. I assured him she would be okay, and I headed out the door to go sit with him until we got word about Mom. Since his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer over a year ago, he seems to be more emotional. Looking back, I believe he sensed how serious it was this time.
When I got to rehab, Dad was a mess. He was crying uncontrollably. He was saying if I didn't take him to be with her, he would walk out and get there himself..and I know him well enough to know he would try it! Mom was admitted a little later that night and I arranged to take Dad out of rehab and to the hospital to see her the next day.
When we got there, she was pitiful.
Mom had always been anxiety-ridden. She didn't handle stressful situations very well at all. They had her on a breathing machine that covered her face, and it was evident that she was in a full-blown panic attack. It was so hard seeing her that way. We all knew that she felt like she was smothering because she couldn't stand something over her face. It was awful.
That night, the doctor told my sister and me to come in the next morning prepared to make some difficult decisions. Mom wasn't responding to treatment. She was in multiple organ failure. The next 24 hours would be critical.
I really dreaded even getting up the next morning. We were going to have to decide whether to keep up trying to save her or to let her slip peacefully, without all the needle pokes and machines constantly beeping. I drug myself out of bed, picked up my dad and we headed to the hospital.
When I walked in the room, I was stunned. Mom was sitting up, no mask on her face, smiling and talking. "Hey, honey!", she said, as I walked into the room. You could have knocked me over with a feather! She looked completely healed!
Most of the family showed up that day since word had gotten around of how sick she was. We had to close the door of the ICU unit for fear we would be thrown out because of the laughter and conversation that went on all day! We were all so happy to see her feeling so much better, and Dad was so relieved to see some improvement.
We kept asking Mom if we were wearing her out, but she kept saying no and that she loved having all of us there. She asked me to come over so she could tell me what happened to her the night before, the night she was in such bad shape that the doctors had all but given up. Mom began telling of a supernatural experience, one that she said most wouldn't believe.
My brother, Mark, had stepped out of the room, and soon after, she heard the curtain of the ICU unit open. She assumed it was him returning. It wasn't. She described it to me like this: "Do you see that door over there (pointing)? That's where He came in. I heard the curtain pull back, and I looked up and there He was. Jesus! He walked straight over here (as she points a line over the path he took) and He laid His hand on my shoulder. He looked me straight in the eyes, and He said, 'You're going to be ok.' Now I don't know if He meant I'm going to get better here, or if He is going to take me home with Him, but He told me that so I believe Him! Not only did I hear Him and see Him, but I felt Him. His power ran through my whole body. I felt the power of God in a way I have never experienced before!"
Just two days later, the doctors said her stats were starting to decline again. Every day, things looked a little more bleak than the day before. By day four, they had decided that there was nothing more that they could do. My mom and dad both decided they would come home and be in the care of hospice so she could pass into eternity from home.
The day they came home, both of them felt a great sense of relief. They were finally together again! Mom had not had any pain, and her usual state of anxiety in these type situations was noticeably absent. She smiled every time she opened her eyes. She told us all repeatedly how much she loved us. She was clear and aware, knowing who everyone was and even asking by name for those she knew hadn't been to see her. She kept asking when our family Christmas would be..we were planning it a week early so she could be here with us. She held on for that. She held on for Dad. She held on for us.
Mom was experiencing total peace. She never shed a tear, there was never a word spoken by her about her inevitable death being scary, which was totally unlike her. She kept saying, "Whether I stay or whether I go, I'm sheltered in the arms of God." She told us not to cry for her. She told us she would see us there. She was graceful. She was calm. Some of her last words, while she was still able to talk, were, "Total peace. I'm at total peace."
The day after our Christmas gathering, Mom became more and more still. She slept deeper as the day went on, but could still open her eyes and try to respond when we talked to her. By the time Dad went to bed around midnight, she had fallen into a deep sleep. Dad was afraid to go to sleep, so we prayed before I left the room. I prayed that God would take her if she couldn't get better, and I asked Him for mercy in her death that she wouldn't suffer by smothering or hurting. I asked specifically that He would just let her stop breathing when He was ready to take her, and to let her take her last breath here on earth and her next breath in Heaven.
An hour and twenty-five minutes later, I was standing by her side, holding her hand, when she just stopped breathing. It was that simple. There was no gasp, no struggle, no anxiety, no fear. She took her last breath here and the next in Heaven.
Jesus promised her He would take care of her. He touched her body, spirit and and soul in the hospital that day. His peace and comfort have enveloped us all in a way that can only be explained by a touch from God. We didn't want to let Mom go, but we wanted her to be at peace.
I believe she is. I believe she is okay because my Jesus came to comfort her and told her she would be. He told her she would be okay, and I believe she is even better than okay. I believe that today she is sheltered in the arms of God. There is no greater peace to be had.
