Mimi Part II - Goodbyes
As the eldest son, I have the Power of Attorney for my mother, so I have to make the ultimate decisions. But I do not make them alone. I seek the wisdom of my two younger brothers. Mimi is our mother and I decided long ago that we will all have input in every decision along this journey.
My brothers and I have a good relationship, so we have worked well together in making decisions about my mother’s car, house, and belongings as we prepare for her imminent passing.
As I write this epistle, my brothers and I are gathered once again around her bed in the nursing home. Today, February 16, 2024, is the twelfth day without any drink or food for our mother. She is an amazing woman with a strong will to live. For all of that time she has been under the care of hospice staff and nursing home staff. They started giving her medication over a week ago to help her relax and sleep. Morphine treatments were added two days ago to help her with labored breathing.
A number of things happening now give us three boys a sense of satisfaction. She is not agitated or aggressive. She is at peace waiting to enter the perfect peace at the feet of Jesus. She has no pain. Our families have either gathered around her or called over the last few weeks to assure her of our love and our expectation of spending eternity with her.
I remember when Cheryl and I and our two preschool sons left the USA to go serve as missionaries in West Africa. My parents could not pronounce the place where we were going to live, much less how to spell it. As we were gathered at the airport in Jackson, Mississippi, to say our goodbyes, my mother and dad started crying as they clutched the two boys. I tried to comfort them by saying: “We don’t have to say ‘goodbye’ because y’all are coming to see us, right?” My mom said, “No, I am not going to get on an airplane.” Then I tried to console them by telling them that we will be coming back. We were not going to stay forever. We would be back on a stateside assignment in a few years. That made things worse because telling their only grandchildren goodbye for 3-4 years was like an eternity to them. Then finally, I convinced them to say “See you later” and we responded with the same words. But the crying continued as we boarded our plane.
Any goodbyes can be difficult, but saying goodbye to a loved one who is about to pass away is extremely difficult as most people either don’t make good choices with their words, they don’t have a personal relationship with Jesus, or they just clam up and say whatever is on their mind to get finished with an uncomfortable task.
The internet is full of suggestions for saying goodbye to a friend or a loved one who is dying. Perhaps I am enamored with my own cogitating on this, but I don’t think we should say goodbye to a fellow believer. What we need to be saying are these simple words: “See you later.” And that is just what I have been saying to my mother as her breathing has become more difficult: “Mimi, you are going to meet Jesus face-to-face soon, and I will be following you to heaven, so see you later.”
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die…