one last goodbye

Letting Mom Go. (5 min read)

April 05, 2016

As I drove to the rehabilitation center where my mom lay waiting for me, I replayed the phone conversation I had just had with the doctor in my mind: “Your mother is a very sick woman who did not want life saving measures.” Words that make you feel like you are moving in slow motion in a movie where you don’t belong. A dull ringing sound made itself known in my ears as I looked out to the left and took in the impossibly blue sky. It was so mild this February morning and I wished I were going anywhere but where I was headed. Then I saw it. A large blue heron flying parallel right beside me. My Dad, I thought to myself. Accompanying me as a messenger of spirit, a harbinger of peace, here to tell me I need to stand alone.