The Hardest Thing I've Ever Had To Do

I have been thinking about my mom a lot lately. She passed away November 12, 2009. I still find myself thinking about her all the time, starting to dial her phone number and just thinking about the day she died. I have questioned whether I am dealing with her passing in a healthy way. We all deal with grief differently. As a pastor I have counseled others about grief. As a chaplain for the Fire Department I have been on death notification calls. But when the roles are reversed and you are the one who loses a loved one it is much different. Perhaps my writing about this is therapeutic. There are a few days that stand out to me and I can remember every vivid detail. One day I recall so clearly was January 31, 1984. That was the day my sister Kim died. I can recall the conversations in the room, the moment she passed, my mom's reaction, etc. Another day I can recall just as vividly and perhaps even more is November 12. Mom had been at Grace Home for about four days. She was in a coma, unable to talk. I stayed with her the last couple of days. I knew what was coming. I tried to prepare myself for it, but I'm not sure that is possible. On the morning she died I looked at her in that hospital bed. She was in pain. She was swollen. The cancer was in her liver, lungs and bone. I talked to God so much that morning and could feel His presence in her room. I told her with a huge lump in my throat that it was okay for her to leave. I didn't want to say that. I didn't want her to leave. But I knew she needed to hear that. So in between my sobbing I told her, "Go to heaven momma. Kim is waiting for you." That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. To tell her to die. Those of you that have experienced the death of a loved one can relate to the pain and yet the relief when our loved one was suffering. I couldn't deal with watching my mom suffer. I held her hand. I read John 14 and Psalm 23. I watched the life go out of her about two hours after I told her it was okay. When she left my presence she entered into the presence of the Lord. It was bitter sweet. I was comforted in knowing no more cancer, no more pain. She would no longer miss her daughter, she was reunited with her. That day will be with me for a long time. It doesn't get easier, but it does get better.