I lost my mother in 2017. I remember the year before God telling me to prepare myself – that I was going to lose her. How do you prepare for the loss of your mother and best friend? She was my person – the only one in this entire world who truly understood me. Over the years, I came to understand my mom wasn’t superhuman like many children feel like their mother should be. She was just a human; a person with flaws, who had children.
My mother had a difficult life growing up, as her mother died when she was 11 years old, and she didn’t have much of a relationship with her dad. She was separated from her siblings and went to live with her maternal aunt. I can’t even imagine the trauma she must have experienced. But I do know because of her experiences throughout her life, she prepared me, my brother, and my sister for her death.
She never shunned us from the topic of death, and she discussed it often, even though I did not want to hear it. I’m convinced her talking about death so much is why I’ve always worked in geriatrics, and ultimately became a nurse – working in nursing homes for the last 21 years, where death is a regular occurrence.
My mother always had medical issues. Her main conditions were heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and she was a breast cancer survivor. One of her medications was damaging her kidneys. She was supposed to start dialysis, didn’t want to as her numbers and testing results kept fluctuating.
By November of 2016, I let my mom know I was okay with her not choosing to proceed with dialysis. I knew she had been through a lot, and I was sensitive to all that her body had endured. Ultimately, she decided to proceed with dialysis but only had 2 or 3 sessions before her passing.
On March 6, 2017, I received a phone call from my brother that my mom was found unresponsive and not breathing. By the time I was able to reach my dad, he informed me she was alive, but I still felt a deep sense the end was near and began to weep uncontrollably. I made care arrangements for my son and rushed from New Jersey to Virginia with my sister. Tears silently rolled down my face the entire trip.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, my mom was hooked up to life support machines. At some point that night, I found myself alone in the hospital room with her. I grabbed her hand, told her it was ok, and that she could go. Suddenly, I felt her thumb squeeze my hand as if she were letting me know she heard me. People may say it was an involuntary movement, but I believe it was her final communication with me. I stayed in the room all night with my siblings, each of us sleeping in chairs.
I woke up the next morning, March 7, 2017, to an amazing sight – the front line of my mother’s hair was white from ear to ear, and her face was lightened and bright. It was as if she had transformed overnight. We made the difficult decision to remove her from life support. My sister left the room, as she couldn’t bear to watch my mother’s transition. I just kept telling my mom it was ok to go.
I thought I was prepared for her death, but it was like a knife ripped into my chest. Even though I knew God was right there with me, I was not prepared to hear she was gone. I understood death was a part of life, yet there was still no preparation for this loss of intimacy from the very person who gave me life.
I felt as if a part of my identity died. The one person who understood me best had left the planet. As Believers, we are usually taught about life in church; we pray for life and against death. Rarely is death discussed in sermons or conversations, but if you think about it, even Jesus’ purpose in coming to Earth was to die.
I’ll admit – I didn’t manage very well in the months after her passing. I chose Hennessy and cigarettes to comfort me, sometimes even while I was praying. I didn’t even realize I was overindulging until my two best friends pointed it out. From there came the anger, and then bargaining. I questioned God, “You couldn’t allow my mother to live until she was 80 or 90, like the women I take care of at my job?’
Soon, I felt so lost that I began to actually cook alone just for comfort, as it brought me so much peace. Throughout my life, I enjoyed solitude with my mother and cooking replaced that and gave me time alone with God.
I started making dishes for my Bishop and Pastor, as they were a representation of parenthood to me. Before I knew it, I was using cooking and serving to minister to others. And that ministry of serving began my healing process. I started to feel whole again when I served others. This included ministering to others who were grieving, as I was sensitive to how they were feeling.
I also began to think a lot about the nature of grieving. I concluded most of us grieve from a self-centered place. It sounds harsh, but if you think about it, we are grieving and upset because of the loss we feel after someone who meant so much to us passes away.
I responded to my grief by making a mental decision to say (and believe) that my mother deserved to be with Christ. After all her sicknesses over the years, her body was deteriorating. We learned after her death that cancer had invaded her entire chest. My mother as the woman, the daughter, the wife, the servant, the sister – she had been through a lot, starting with her childhood. It was finally her time to be healed.
We were born to die. God never promised us how long we would live, and He doesn’t operate in time and years the way we do. There’s no way we can ever say it wasn’t someone’s time, or they died too soon because we are basing that on our feelings instead of God’s plan.
My mother raised me to make sure I would see her again after she went to her final home. As an adult, she tracked down all of her siblings and eventually led them all to the Lord, and I believe they were reunited in heaven. Oh death where is thy sting? My mother was the epitome of a Proverbs 31 Woman. I wanted what was best for her, and every time I feel emotions, or I miss her, I always feel God reassure me that He has her. Not in a spooky or crazy way, but He just lets me know that she’s good. I get a visual picture of her with Him and think she deserves this. I know I’ll see her again.
Encouragement for Moms:
What I would tell anyone who is grieving is that although it’s not easy, we must try to put ourselves to the side and think about what was best for our loved ones in those moments. To anyone who has lost their mother – remember God always has a plan and the plan was there before we were even born. I repeat to myself every day “God I trust you with my life”, even when moments I don’t feel like I know what’s going on. Death and life are in the power of our tongue. I encourage you to make a decision to heal.
Prayer for Moms:
Spirit of God, I pray your spirit of healing and comfort over those who have lost their mothers. Father God, I ask that you hold them there and allow them to see your purpose with loss, and may you allow any grief, loneliness, and depression to turn into a Ministry to help others, so healing can take place.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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