Sunday, September 25, 2011

A Son's Last Goodbye by Kiler Davenport

Man_on_bench
Sitting there watching mother die is the hardest thing I know I will ever have to do in my lifetime. Her body swollen and ravaged, mangled, poked, and prodded. What else could they do to her? What else could I let them do to her? I wanted her to be my mother again like she used to be. I knew she was in there somewhere.  I hoped she could hear me when I told her I loved her more than life itself. Everyone in the hospice group and even some friends told me to tell her it was okay to go. Just whisper in her ear and tell her it is okay. At the time it sounded insane to me. All I wanted was for her to wake up and talk to me just one time. But all she could do is look at me with a cold glazed look. No expression what so ever. And sometimes when she heard my voice she would let out a moaning sound that broke my heart in half. If there could be a hell on earth this was it. I was living right in the middle of it. You are standing there pouring liquid into a tube inserted into her stomach. You are putting morphine and acetominaphen in her mouth. You are praying to God it is all a dream. Oh God let this be a dream. But it is not. It is real life and you have to face it head on like it or not. I wanted to take her place so bad. All that she had done for all of us and to have to die like this. It is not fair. I don't understand it and anyone that says that they do is an idiot plain and simple. The last thing anyone wants to hear at a time like that is "God has everything in his hands". You really just need someone to be quiet and listen. Just be there for you without lofty advice. You just want someone to share your grief and deep sorrow in that moment and time. I laid down beside her those last few hours. I kissed her on her forehead and cheek. I loved her with all of my heart but it would not bring her back to me. It was almost time now for her to go. The end of my world was coming and somehow I had to deal with it. Her temperature was 106 degrees farenheit. Her bowels were moving uncontrollably. Her eyes opened as we were cleaning her up. I screamed "Mother go on to Heaven if you have to. I'll be there soon to be with you. It is okay to go if you can." I held her as she took her last little breath and she was gone. My mother was gone. Oh God be with me and help me through this, Father. I put her favorite stuffed animals on her chest and lay with her for an hour or so. It didn't seem real. We cut a lock of her beautiful hair to keep. I still sleep on the pillow she died on every night and I will forever. May God be with you all in times like this.

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