Mom told me that a man sang to her all night long. I asked what song and she said he just sang. I spent the next day with my mom and at one point she asked me
"Did you hear that?" "Music" she whispered wide eyed. I walked around the house listening and could find no music.
On the third day my mother confessed to seeing a little girl in her room. At first she was afraid to tell me. She began by saying
" You know that place between being asleep and fully awake? " " yes mom ". she whispered ,"Well I don't want two men in white coats showing up at my door" her eyes grew big with fear as she continued, " I saw a little girl". My inquiring mind asked "Who was she mom"? " "Just a little girl",she answered.
I could sense my mothers fear and quickly assured her that God comes in all forms and she must not fear what she saw.
My sister and I were talking and we think that maybe it was herself as a child that she was seeing. That answer didn't seem to make sense to me. As we talked it came to me maybe it was an angel. My sister and I would both like to agree to this line of thinking.
I talked to one of her hospice workers. This particular lady has been taking care of many people over the last thirty years. When I told her about my mothers encounters her face lit up with a big smile. She said " it's her angels, and I have heard of these happenings many, many times. They are preparing her to move on". Her words brought serenity to my breaking heart.
Showing posts with label hospice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospice. Show all posts
Friday, July 6, 2012
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sounds in the Wee Moring Hours
Sounds in the Wee Morning Hours
Sounds never meant to be heard by the living awoke me from my restless sleep. I quickly jumped to my feet and looked over at my father’s Hospice bed. He was asleep. I frantically grabbed my life line my cell phone. I placed a call to my sister. A fast glance at the clock told me it was 3:33 a.m. She did not answer my call. I assured myself that she was snuggled down with her dog and her husband to keep her out of harms way. I was shaking in fear. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine and I trembled. I then felt a coldness pass through my being. I felt as though I could not catch my breathe or move. My body just would not let me. For a moment I thought I was still dreaming. Then it came to me my little friend Jason. I had promised him that I would watch over his Dad. I quickly left the room and walked two doors down to Jason’s dad’s room. The door was ajar and a small light had been left on. Like a shadow under a door I slowly slipped into the room. I stood above this vessel of what use to be a vibrant man and listened. The only noise I heard was the in and out flow of his drug induced sleep. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that he was still alive. Not on my watch I thought to myself. I have promises to keep and I never break a promise to a child.
As I slowly walked back to my father’s room I proceeded to do a bed check of all the other guests next to my fathers room. Many years of being a mother had taught me the importance of the peace of mind brought on by nightly bed checks.
I returned to my father’s room and once again tried to get comfortable on the couch that was my bed. There was an extra bed besides my fathers and it was a double bed. It would have been pleasant to have been able to stretch my weary body into that bed. I declined to recline in that bed knowing in my mind that many souls had passed on while asleep there. I had never had the experience of watching someone die and was both a little excited and terrified by the forth coming event. I was about to experience the worse and best thing that had ever happened to me.
I must of dozed off. Once again I was awoken by sounds I could never describe in words. The sounds I heard and I will do my best to describe, were sounds of gut wrenching, pure unadulterated pain. But not the pain of which we all know. This was emotional pain converted into a pliable sound. I felt empathy for who ever was making this noise. I was afraid. I suddenly understood that the sounds that I heard were the sounds of someone battling the devil for their soul. I said a prayer and closed my eyes. No sooner then my eyes closed the sound emitted one more time and I quickly realized that the source was my own father. I rushed over to his bedside and placed my hand on his. His sparkling Frank Sinatra blue eyes opened wide and he looked back at mine. "Daddy are you OK?" "Yes Dolly" he replied then closed his eyes. As I turned to walk away he said “ It will be today." I did not need to ask him what he meant by that statement. I already knew. I looked at his face and noted he looked serene. He quickly fell back to sleep. I lay back on the couch and watched the rest of the night turn back into day. The day.
Sounds never meant to be heard by the living awoke me from my restless sleep. I quickly jumped to my feet and looked over at my father’s Hospice bed. He was asleep. I frantically grabbed my life line my cell phone. I placed a call to my sister. A fast glance at the clock told me it was 3:33 a.m. She did not answer my call. I assured myself that she was snuggled down with her dog and her husband to keep her out of harms way. I was shaking in fear. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine and I trembled. I then felt a coldness pass through my being. I felt as though I could not catch my breathe or move. My body just would not let me. For a moment I thought I was still dreaming. Then it came to me my little friend Jason. I had promised him that I would watch over his Dad. I quickly left the room and walked two doors down to Jason’s dad’s room. The door was ajar and a small light had been left on. Like a shadow under a door I slowly slipped into the room. I stood above this vessel of what use to be a vibrant man and listened. The only noise I heard was the in and out flow of his drug induced sleep. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that he was still alive. Not on my watch I thought to myself. I have promises to keep and I never break a promise to a child.
As I slowly walked back to my father’s room I proceeded to do a bed check of all the other guests next to my fathers room. Many years of being a mother had taught me the importance of the peace of mind brought on by nightly bed checks.
I returned to my father’s room and once again tried to get comfortable on the couch that was my bed. There was an extra bed besides my fathers and it was a double bed. It would have been pleasant to have been able to stretch my weary body into that bed. I declined to recline in that bed knowing in my mind that many souls had passed on while asleep there. I had never had the experience of watching someone die and was both a little excited and terrified by the forth coming event. I was about to experience the worse and best thing that had ever happened to me.
I must of dozed off. Once again I was awoken by sounds I could never describe in words. The sounds I heard and I will do my best to describe, were sounds of gut wrenching, pure unadulterated pain. But not the pain of which we all know. This was emotional pain converted into a pliable sound. I felt empathy for who ever was making this noise. I was afraid. I suddenly understood that the sounds that I heard were the sounds of someone battling the devil for their soul. I said a prayer and closed my eyes. No sooner then my eyes closed the sound emitted one more time and I quickly realized that the source was my own father. I rushed over to his bedside and placed my hand on his. His sparkling Frank Sinatra blue eyes opened wide and he looked back at mine. "Daddy are you OK?" "Yes Dolly" he replied then closed his eyes. As I turned to walk away he said “ It will be today." I did not need to ask him what he meant by that statement. I already knew. I looked at his face and noted he looked serene. He quickly fell back to sleep. I lay back on the couch and watched the rest of the night turn back into day. The day.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
My Dad is Dying
My Dad is Dying
I needed a break from the death watch. My sister was there and I felt confident that everything would be alright long enough for me to walk away for a few minutes. I walked to the end of the short hall. There was a room set up to look like a living room. A couch two comfy chairs, coffee table and two end tables with lamps. And of course the focal point of the room was the TV complete with a remote control. I held the remote turned on the TV and mindlessly began to stare at it. I tried in vain to find the button that would mute my thinking. I was so tired emotionally drained I wanted off this roller coaster of emotions. All those years of growing up in that mans house all the times I had wished him dead. How ironic that now my wishes were coming true.
My solitude was short lived. In walked a young child. If I had to guess I would say he was about ten years old. He sat down in the chair next to where I was sitting. I asked him if he wanted to watch TV and atomically handed over the remote.
As our hands met on the exchange of the remote he looked into my eyes and blurted “My dad is dying.” In my head I said “ Oh dear God you have got to be freaking kidding me!” “ Like I don’t have enough to deal with right now.” “I don’t know what to say to this kid.” Still looking in his eyes I replied “My dad is dying too.” My new friend introduced himself as Jason and quickly words began to spill out of his mouth. “My dad has brain cancer he is only 35 years old.” “That is him you hear screaming sometimes.” “They tied him to the bed cause he doesn’t know where he is and keeps trying to get up.” My brain was kind to me and shut down my emotions. On any other day I would have been reduced to a bucket of tears. I sensed that Jason did not need me to cry. He needed someone to tell, someone who would just listen he needed to process what was happening by being verbal about it. I waited for him to finish. As he was talking I began to think of how he was the age that my youngest child was when her daddy died. So I approached him with the information that I would of wanted someone to educate my child with. I told him of my children’s fathers death. I told him about the things he could expect to happen and feel. He thanked me and told me that he and his family were going home for the night. He asked me if I was staying the night. I told him I was because I had made a promise to my father to do so. He said he was afraid to leave his dad. He was afraid that his Dad would die with him not there. I said if you like I will look in on him tonight. He said you would? I said I promise you that I will. I reached into my pocket to get a tissue and came out with a handful of candy from the reception desk candy jar. I asked him if he wanted some. He said yes. I told him where he could go to get more. He told me that the lady at the desk had told him he couldn’t have anymore. I said oh really. I was out raged to think that someone would deny a child something as little as candy when their father lay dying in the same building. I asked Jason to walk with me as I marched up to the desk with that held the candy jar. Jason stood back as I swooped the candy jar off the desk and emptied all of its contents into my pockets and hands. I gave the little old lady sitting there the hairy eyeball and walked away. Jason and I walked back to the TV room and I dumped my loot onto the table. He shook his head and laughed at what I had done. I look at it this way all those years of visiting Grandma’s Candy jar had finally paid off.
I kept my promise to Jason and watched over his father that night. Sadly Jason’s father passed away the next afternoon.
I needed a break from the death watch. My sister was there and I felt confident that everything would be alright long enough for me to walk away for a few minutes. I walked to the end of the short hall. There was a room set up to look like a living room. A couch two comfy chairs, coffee table and two end tables with lamps. And of course the focal point of the room was the TV complete with a remote control. I held the remote turned on the TV and mindlessly began to stare at it. I tried in vain to find the button that would mute my thinking. I was so tired emotionally drained I wanted off this roller coaster of emotions. All those years of growing up in that mans house all the times I had wished him dead. How ironic that now my wishes were coming true.
My solitude was short lived. In walked a young child. If I had to guess I would say he was about ten years old. He sat down in the chair next to where I was sitting. I asked him if he wanted to watch TV and atomically handed over the remote.
As our hands met on the exchange of the remote he looked into my eyes and blurted “My dad is dying.” In my head I said “ Oh dear God you have got to be freaking kidding me!” “ Like I don’t have enough to deal with right now.” “I don’t know what to say to this kid.” Still looking in his eyes I replied “My dad is dying too.” My new friend introduced himself as Jason and quickly words began to spill out of his mouth. “My dad has brain cancer he is only 35 years old.” “That is him you hear screaming sometimes.” “They tied him to the bed cause he doesn’t know where he is and keeps trying to get up.” My brain was kind to me and shut down my emotions. On any other day I would have been reduced to a bucket of tears. I sensed that Jason did not need me to cry. He needed someone to tell, someone who would just listen he needed to process what was happening by being verbal about it. I waited for him to finish. As he was talking I began to think of how he was the age that my youngest child was when her daddy died. So I approached him with the information that I would of wanted someone to educate my child with. I told him of my children’s fathers death. I told him about the things he could expect to happen and feel. He thanked me and told me that he and his family were going home for the night. He asked me if I was staying the night. I told him I was because I had made a promise to my father to do so. He said he was afraid to leave his dad. He was afraid that his Dad would die with him not there. I said if you like I will look in on him tonight. He said you would? I said I promise you that I will. I reached into my pocket to get a tissue and came out with a handful of candy from the reception desk candy jar. I asked him if he wanted some. He said yes. I told him where he could go to get more. He told me that the lady at the desk had told him he couldn’t have anymore. I said oh really. I was out raged to think that someone would deny a child something as little as candy when their father lay dying in the same building. I asked Jason to walk with me as I marched up to the desk with that held the candy jar. Jason stood back as I swooped the candy jar off the desk and emptied all of its contents into my pockets and hands. I gave the little old lady sitting there the hairy eyeball and walked away. Jason and I walked back to the TV room and I dumped my loot onto the table. He shook his head and laughed at what I had done. I look at it this way all those years of visiting Grandma’s Candy jar had finally paid off.
I kept my promise to Jason and watched over his father that night. Sadly Jason’s father passed away the next afternoon.
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