Regarding My Mom’s Passing

My mom ended up in Hospice last year. She died of lung cancer and was in Hospice care for only a week before she passed. When she moved into the Hospice House, I moved in with her and rarely left her side. I held her, comforted her, prayed for her, sang to her, put cream on her skin, dabbed water on her lips and when the time came, when her realization came that it was time to go, I held her even tighter and let her know it was ok to move on, Mom, you go on – I’ll take care of things here.

After all was said and done, after I’d had time to empty myself of tears and to reflect on the sad strange journey that lead from my mom laughing at the dinner table to my mom dying, I realized two things. First, that what I had done for my mom was something that I was good at; that I had the patience to simply be there 100%. The second thing I realized was that I no longer cried as much any more. I couldn’t muster the tears for mundane tender moments or for someone else’s passing.

As a result of the first realization, I became a Hospice volunteer. A Vigil Volunteer, specifically. I sit with patients who are actively dying so they won’t be alone when they pass. Hospice believes no one should die alone. I believe no one should die without someone holding their hand at the very least.

Regarding the second realization – well, I still don’t cry as much as I used to. It isn’t due to a lessening of compassion so much as a new perspective of life … and death. I used to sob during commercials and at proclamations of love and such. But no longer – and no big loss.

But I do still cry for my Mother.