Almost two years ago I wrote a blog. Since then there has been one significant difference in my life. My mom is no more. My guilt remains like a festering sore that I did nothing to make her last days less lonely, less neglected. She died on April 1st, 2016. Early in the morning. Quietly perhaps. Because no one was there near her to witness her last moments.
The previous day I had been to see her. She was refusing food and even water. I went and sat by her. I tried to make her drink at least a spoonful of water. Her eyes were shut tight and yet somehow she was able to see my extended hand with the spoon and pushed my hand away. The strength in that push surprised me. As did the fact that she could see my hand going toward her face with eyes shut. I was stupid. Her soul was watching our stupidity.
How could I not realise that? She was way beyond her physical existence at that moment, her soul gradually stepping away. She was just waiting for God's outstretched hand.