Eleven days ago I received the call I’d been expecting for a very long time.
“Come to the nursing home. Now.”
I asked no questions. I simply got in the car and drove. I’ve gotten a few calls like this over the last few years. My hubby’s even gotten used to me dropping everything and rushing out the house. Each time, I’ve come home, crisis averted, and carried on with everyday life.
This time, life did not carry on. I didn’t even make it to the nursing home before finding out this very sad fact. I found out in my car, while driving there.
“I’m sorry, love,” the nurse said simply. “Your mum’s just passed away.”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. I should have known it was coming.
I did know. And I thought I was prepared. Turns out, I wasn’t. I guess, no matter how much warning you have, you can never be prepared for the death of a parent.
My mother has been ill for three years. For the last year, she’s been very, very sick. Still no matter how bad it got during this time, she fought. She fought like a damn trooper. She hung on with everything she had. No matter how many crises she faced (and there were a lot), she simply took another breath and carried on fighting. There is not another person I know who could have, or would have, fought so hard.
I assumed she’d fight through this night as well.
But there comes a time when there’s no point fighting anymore. When dying is a better option than living. And for my very brave mother, who’d fought so hard and so long, living was no longer the better option. This time, she didn’t face a crisis. She simply chose the better option.
It didn’t take long. After three years of fighting, it took just a few minutes and she slipped away.
She’s in a better place now. Doesn’t stop the heart ache or heart break that’s left behind.
Maybe I’ll stop being sad…some day.
Be free, ma.
Be happy, be heard, and soar.
You can now.