Book- Mom

( Start on page 260- end on page 363)

Memories of summer evening car rides for ice cream, our trip to Lourdes, the cross-country journey to California in our station wagon, the simple every day joy of her sense of humor, her kindness and her compassion flooded my sense at that moment. She always had such a good heart.

To think her life ends here.

That little voice inside said to start talking. We always believed at the nursing home that people in a coma can hear you. Never assume they can't. So I started whispering softly to Mom, like we were talking during l on one of my breaks at the Center.

I never did get a chance to say goodbye to Dad. I wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Hi Mom," I started. "It's Greg. I'm here. I came over after work.

"Mom, in case no one explained to you.you had a stroke. That's why you can't open your eyes or talk. But I know you can hear me. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

No response.

"I know you can hear me, " I repeated, wanted to believe it was true. "I know it must be frustrating not to be able to open your eyes. You are in there, I know it. I know you can hear me. I'm not just talking to myself..." My voice trailed off as I tried not to cry.

"Mom, I'm doing okay at home. Louie is a little better since you saw him. There's no need to worry. We'll be all right. If you are hanging in there because of me, it's okay to let go."

Those words were so hard to say because I wanted her to open her eyes and be the mother I loved for so long.

"If anyone is going to Heave, it's you. I don't want you to suffer. You don't deserve that.

" You know I love you for taking care of me all my life. I know you sacrificed so much for me. I won't let you down. I'll never forget you. I'll miss you, Mom. If you need to leave this world, please let go...for me."

In that instant Mom let out three quick gasps, the first noise she had made with me there. I was startled but didn't think anything of it. Just another involuntary noise they said would happen from time to time.

I continued holding her hand, silent now until I began telling her how hot it was outside and things we would chat about every day.

At that moment the nurse returned, glancing in the room on her way back to her station. She stopped and came in, mumbling to herself. "Let me check her. Her color looks different.'

She listened to Mom's heart touched her pulse and softly said "She has passed."

"She's gone?" I asked. It was still hard to believe, even though I had tried to prepare myself for this moment.

The nurse said to take my time with Mom while she alerted the doctor and the coroner. "I'll be back to wash her," she said, taking away all the tubes and machines.

Mom looked so peaceful without all the sighs and sounds around her.

I borrowed the cordless phone and called my sister. I told her that Mom had just died and she  broke down. "I'm glad you were there with her. It was what she would've wanted."

Alone again, I gazed at Mom. It was the way it was supposed to be. She could've died anytime, right after the stroke or even next week. Instead she died while I was there.

The special bond between a mother and a special needs child.

She did hear me. "It's okay to let go..." All this time she did hear everyone. That was her final gift. She let me know in such a special way. She  let me know that her love was everlasting.

Mom was the most caring person I ever met.  The best wife, mother,sister, grandmother and friend. Tiny in stature, strong in her faith and her love for others. She was in Heaven with my father, reunited again.

"Mom," I whispered, "you are at peace now You  did the Lord's work every day of your life. Now it's time for you to rest. You made it back home after all. I love you, Mom."