There was a time when I longed to have a daughter, but I missed that particular exit on life’s highway. Now I imagine expecting a child would be an incredibly beautiful time, one of exhilarating anticipation of meeting this new human being. I guess within the pregnancy, a sort of definitive suspension, it’s also the opportunity to plan to be the best parent possible. If the latter is the emotional preparation, I appreciate there is logistical preparation too – a room, a cot, a stroller, and other supplies. And then the new member of the family arrives. Hello!
In another season of life, however, also a definitive suspension, is one with a different salutation – Goodbye. It too brings a sense of the unknown – what day, and what time will it happen? How does one prepare for this? Logistically, for us, we have covered what we can the best we can, but the rest is emotional. Even mentally, the mind tries a form of preparation by denying the honesty of death. As in the case of our mom, she still has much life within her, including her unique mind and personality – for goodness sake, she reads Wilbur Smith! She knits, enjoys endless episodes of crime shows, and considers those times when she met new people, and tried new foods in incredible corners of the world.
But her 87 year old body is tried. Almost 10 years ago, she laboured, with God’s mercy, grace and strength, through tongue cancer, and soon thereafter, a cerebellum vascular accident or stroke, which led her to depend on a wheelchair for safe independent mobility. We adapted her room, then apartments to accommodate her next journey.
Now I ask: how do we accommodate her (and my) thoughts of the day she goes, including our days without her thereafter? Can one be truly prepared? I’ve tried to be prepared for and work through each impossibly new layer of anticipatory grief all while not forgetting to live more precious moments of life. And Mom? She too grieves for the family she will leave behind, her dear friendships of eight decades, as well as her new friends. Then, there’s not forgetting the upcoming seasons or Christmas specials of Call the Midwife, All Creatures Great and Small, Netflix’s The Tourist (after all, aren’t we all just passing through?) and all the other simple joys of life (we possibly all take for granted until we can’t) that make life so exquisite, so worth staying for.
But time and disease have begun to squeeze out the lasts drops of energy, motivation, determination, and perseverance to continue on. What is left is her daily fatigue and vanity to get dressed in her best, don her pearls and makeup while undeniably edging towards the transition from this world to the next. I believe what we can only be prepared to depend on is our autonomic system to breathe through one of two of life’s certainties, until there is none of Mom’s own. We will be a pair of daughters who will then bid farewell to our last parent (until next time) where our Dad, Mom’s sweet love, will welcome her, take her by the hand and dance with her once again, with her youthful and strong feet. It will be a time like no other.
My heart beats and cries We wait for what is coming Then our hearts will fold. Haiku ~ LPK