The month of September will be remembered forever, not for its beauty and warm summer weather, but for the uplifting of our mother to Heaven, the eternal home she so longed for during the past several months. Time had come. We had to let go. She wanted to be by her husband’s side and to see her three children dance on those golden streets.
“To everything there is a season…, a time to be born, and a time to die…a time to heal.” Ecclesiastes 3
Our beloved mother, born into this world struggling for her life lived eighty-six and a half years until she declared it was time to die. Her own words became a reality only four days later. She was home at last.
A sunny September day
That day as I walked into the nursing home dining room Mom sat quietly in her wheelchair, waiting, perhaps for someone to come, or for lunch or for the angels to take her home. Or for a family member. I was the first to arrive. Chills shook her frail body back and forth and she repeated “I’m cold.” I ran to her room to get a sweater, the yellow one, her favourite, and proceeded to put it on her. Buttoned each hole.
Still she was cold and tired. I placed a yellow afghan around her shoulders, but warmth would not come. Soon my brother arrived, and next my sister came along after I had fed her a few spoonfuls. We continued our visit over lunch, but all the while Mom’s appetite, as poor as it had been, at least she ate a little and drank juice.
Soon after lunch we all left her side said our goodbyes, not knowing it would be the last time. By the next hour she had laid down on her bed and slept. Moved to Heaven to stroll on the streets of gold under the Glorious Light of Jesus, her Savior and Lord!
Carry me home
Here is a poem my youngest sister had written during a time of adversity. Now at last God welcomed mother home, lifted from this earth to Heaven to rejoice forever, free from darkness into the Light of Jesus.
Take Me Home by Anita Ball
I close my eyes and shed a tear
for my broken battered heart
too weak to blink too proud to bare
the wounded aching part
God lift me up take my hand
make the journey sweet
let me kiss this earth goodbye
and worship at your feet
your Presence full of wonder
takes my breath away
I need to feel you near
bring me home to stay
you know me deep within
forever you have known
with patience I have waited
for You to take me home
Beside still waters
Often we quoted scriptures together, and with her raspy whisper mom repeated a few lines, until she could remember no more. Her last ones.
Me: The Lord is my Shepherd
Mother: I shall not want
Me: He makes me lie down in green pastures
Mother: He leads me beside still waters.
Who can satisfy the soul? Do possessions, prestige, or activities bring the peace we long for? What desires fill our hearts?
Song by Aaron Shust Carry Me Home blessed me when thinking about mother’s last thoughts on earth.