Saying Goodbye

Mom held on.

They had kept her at the hospital.  Trying to coordinate her release home with hospice to my arrival.  The days leading up to that point had been rough at times.

Following mom's 'rally' right as I left to return to Wyoming, she began to become a bit more disquieted.  My brother shared some of the heart wrenching conversations people had with her.

Her body was dying.  Her mind was having a hard time holding on.

She no longer even remembered my visit just days before.  She asked for me. She wanted me there.  She accused everyone of lying to her.  That I wasn't coming.  Her only daughter.  The only of her three children not present.

It broke my heart.

So, when we arrived, I found the hospice worker by her side.  Dad had just stepped out for a bit.  She told me mom had been awake and calm just a short while before.

I walked over and touched her frail shoulder.  I gently spoke.  "Mom, we're here.  We made it."

Her eyes opened.  Lit up.  Her lips spread into a smile.  Her now spindly arms reached up and grasped around my neck.  As she held tight she whispered, "Is it a lie?"

"No, mom," I spoke through tears.  "It's not a lie.  You're really hugging me."

"I knew you'd come. They kept telling me I was lying. That you weren't coming. But I knew you'd come."

I slipped back as I motioned to Techno and the kids.  "We're all here, mom."  With that, each of the kids and Doug gave her a big, but gentle hug.

I sat down next to her and held her hand.  "It's not a lie?"  She asked again.  "No, Mom.  It's not a lie. We're really here.  Do you remember me being here last week?  I told you we were coming right back."  She furrowed her brows and shook her head no.  My heart broke, again.

She wanted us there.  We made it.  Now she could rest.  It was just a matter of time.