Last days – a bittersweet journey

She’s walking on a people mover. You know, the moving sidewalk in an airport. My mom finds herself going from blue to the sunlight. A few days ago she was alone, yesterday she saw her Opa, her father, and a beloved minister, who died decades ago, on the people mover. Wonder when or if she’ll see her husbands. She says she’s been forgiven for her worst transgression. Thank you, Lord. Today she speaks about furling. Furling?! Like a flag, I ask? Yes. Who will I be given to after I’m furled. She doesn’t want me to hurt. From you dying, I ask?  No, that’s life. You can handle life.  Then she drifts off. Her phrases have gaps of 30-90 seconds. She usually picks up where she left off. This takes listening to a new dimension. She doesn’t ask. how will I know that I’ve died? anymore. Her eyes are always closed. She’s gaunt. Her brow is smooth. Breathing regular. I’ve known this woman all my life. Oh, ma.