Four days a week, I go to work in the morning. Every one of those days I pass the cemetery where my Mom’s ashes are buried. My Gramma’s are there too. Each morning as I drive by I always say a “Hey Mum” or a “Love ya Mom” and I get choked up. Every time. I haven’t been by to see her grave since last spring and a lot has happened in my world since then.
I think back to the day she died in March 2007. I was with her when she said her last words. I will never forget them. She had been very frightened, knowing that this was “it” and I was trying to give some level of comfort while waiting for my siblings to arrive at the hospital. I had no idea what to do or what to say. She wouldn’t let go of my hand. She was so scared. I was so scared. This was my MOM, my rock, the wisest person I knew. But it wasn’t the time to think about me. She needed me this time instead of the other way around.
“Let’s go dancing, Mum, okay? Let’s be light on our feet and feel the spotlight on our skin.” Through her oxygen mask I could see her smile through her tears. She managed to get the words out: “You be Fred and I’ll be Ginger.” We both swayed to imaginary music in perfect rhythm with our eyes closed. I could feel her hand in mine relax a bit. When I looked at her again, she had the most serene expression on her face. She was smiling. There were no more tears. She never opened her eyes again as she slipped into a coma. My hand was still holding her limp one.
The rest of my siblings arrived along with my Dad. We were moved to a bigger room as 4 of her 8 children along with various spouses and my own son made for quite a spectacle. She died so peacefully a few hours later with us all in the room. Her presence was felt by all and she continues to be a force in my life.
Funny thing about the cemetery; there is an angel stationed at its entrance and it is supposed to be pointing up to heaven. My interpretation is a little different. Remember, my gramma and my mom were very strong women and pioneered many aspects of the women’s movement and equal rights in their own way.
So you tell me; what does it look like the angel is doing?