My mother stayed in my home for several months before she transitioned. She had a meningioma, a non-malignant brain tumor which was not treatable. During this time, she lost weight, and sometimes she would seem like she was living in a different realm. My dad had died several years before, and she stopped smiling then. However, once she learned of her brain tumor diagnosis, she started to smile again and sometimes even laughed. I realized that she was grateful that she wasn’t going to be living much longer.
One day I heard her talking in the other room, so I went to check who was there. She didn’t see me come in and continued her conversation, only I didn’t see anyone. I also had no idea what she was saying. These random conversations continued happening, and she usually was smiling as she talked. Occasionally she would notice me listening. She’d smile at me then continued her conversation with whoever it was. When I asked who she was speaking to, she’d just smile and keep talking. I noticed that sometimes she was reaching toward her visitor.
She started declining rapidly and lost so much weight that she was almost beyond recognition. One day as I sat at her bedside, I sensed that she was slipping away. I held her arm where I could feel her pulse, and I talked to her. I was moved by her gentle breath and told her, “It’s OK for you to go. Daddy is waiting for you.” As soon as I said that, her pulse slowed, then stopped. I realized she had been waiting for permission.
Years later, my mother’s sister Ila, started having strange behavior. She had legally appointed me as her decision-maker, so I took her to the doctor. She was also diagnosed with a meningioma. She became confused and didn’t recognize her loved ones. I could see her frustration as she declined. I found a good place she could stay for care where a friend of mine was the Director of Nurses. I ensured all of her financial and legal affairs were in order. One night a nurse called me to say she had a fever, so I rushed to her side. Even though she had a Do Not Resuscitate order, the nurse had called an ambulance. Fortunately, I was there when they came so that I could show them the order, so they left. As I sat by her side, I told her that she could let go, that my mother and her mother were waiting for her. With that, she stopped breathing and passed peacefully.
Years later, my mother-in-law was living with us. She was diagnosed with a bowel obstruction and was in the hospital. She was in her nineties. The doctors pressured my husband to allow them to operate because she was in pain. He decided to go home to pray. I stayed with her as pain seemed to disappear and she started to talk to people I couldn’t see, and she was speaking in a strange language like I had heard my mother use years before. She also reached her hand toward who she was talking to. When my husband came back into her room, she died peacefully.
This week I am attending Death Doula Training. We are at a beautiful place on Maui with ocean views and tropical breezes, and the room is filled with so much love. As we shared our stories, people mentioned how when people they were attending to who were close to death they would reach out and speak to someone that only they could see. Listening to these stories combined with my own, it became clear to me there is more to transitioning from this earthly life than we may realize. I also am experiencing how precious this life experience is. I have learned much as my loved ones depart from this earthly plain, and I am grateful.
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