One of my favorite movie lines from one my favorite movies…Forest Gump. “I’m pretty tired…I think I’ll go home now.”
April 27, 2012, was a beautiful day. It was filled with sunshine, wonderful temperatures, some tears, laughter, friends, family, more laughter, bunch of hugs, kind words spoken, the promise of hope. It was the greatest day of my mama’s life.
And the day began with two phone calls. One said, “You should probably be aware that it won’t be long, maybe a few days.” And in the second call, only moments later, the nurse said, “You should come now.”
And at 9:50 a.m. God heard a sincere cry of my heart, to let my mom go to sleep and let her struggle no more. I have no regrets. All hearts were clear, all words that needed to be said were spoken, and the last words being exchanged on Thursday afternoon were, “I love you.”
Interesting to me, and heart warming, is that my mom’s last words to a person were not to me at all. They were spoken to a friend, Tiffany Orr.
Tiffany Orr came into my mothers life in her final three days. Tiffany had told me that she wanted to meet my mom, that she had heard so much about her. I thought that to be a great idea so I encouraged her to visit anytime at the hospice facility. And in the final days of my mothers life Tiffany came at least twice a day, once in the afternoon and once at night.
On the final night before my mother passed away, I came by to tuck her in and say goodnight, and when I opened up the door, there was Tiffany, with my moms hand in hers, tears coming down Tiffany’s face. My mom was fast asleep.
I asked Tiffany about her story. She told me of her mother who would have been 80 years old if alive. My mom was 84. Tiffany’s mom passed away from cancer. My mom would also pass away from cancer the next morning. There was something going on here, not earthly stuff. Heavenly stuff. Stuff that mattered.
Maybe, I don’t know, but maybe, there was some closure there for Tiffany. I don’t know, maybe, there was a connection of heart that Tiffany missed from a mom and had once again found it with my mom. Either way, I was glad to loan my mom out for a heart connection. She had a big heart.
And so, I am glad that Tiffany Orr found something in my mom that drew her closer, deeper than surface interaction. Somewhere over the last three days, it became a heart matter.
And then on the following morning, at 9:50 a.m., my mama, after a long run of nine years, with many people watching, much like Forest Gump, stopped in the middle of the highway of her life, turned and said to those who had been inspired by her journey, “I’m pretty tired…I think I’ll go home now.”
Life As A Passing Shadow
Beautiful John. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Sandra for always being so encouraging. Nothing like a mama.
That touched such a deep place in my heart. Of course I am sitting here crying realizing how much I miss my mother and my best friend. I sat on the porch tonight remembering how we used to sit in that very spot talking for hours. I miss her unconditional love and always complimenting me and encouraging me, like none other! I still talk to her…..I hope somehow she can hear me and know how much I loved her and want to see her!
I would bet everything I own that she hears you. I had a recent experience that I might write about later this week. Very personal. Nobody loves like a mama.
John
Beautiful eulogy John! I’m happy there is enough love to share, thanks for sharing it with me!
Thank you Andy. She taught me the meaning of sharing.
Nobody loves like a mama. You’re exactly right. A very touching story, John.
Thank you Kay.
I loved sweet Camilla. I remember that time well, and it was definitely a time when “Heavenly stuff” was happening. I know she loved you, Derinda, Savannah, and Suzanne. She was wonderful lady. Thank you for sharing her and this story with us. Much love, my friend!
Thank you Cynthia. I am glad that you and Rachel were there to share one of the last truly funny moments she had on this earth. “This is sweet tea Mama.”