My mother and I had a special symbiotic bond
full of the only unconditional love I have experienced. She was an ER nurse
and, when I was a child, she used to tell me stories of unusual occurrences
in the ER, of unexplained things. She shared these with only me, since my
father and brother were closed and not curious. I realize now that these
moments with her would prepare me for life's experiences later on.
At age 55 my mother
was diagnosed with aggressive lymphatic cancer. The doctors prepared
my brother and I for a decision that would need to be made soon
about taking her off the resuscitator. I knew my mother's wishes,
but the reality of making that decision is harder than I ever
imagined. The doctor told us he wanted to go into my mother's
room and let her know her prognosis as doctor to nursethat
nothing more could be done. Afterwards, as we walked into her
room, she had broken her restraints and pulled out the breathing
tube and so was able to speak. She had made the decision so we
wouldn't have to.
We were put in a private room
with her, both my brother and I, as her life ended. It was excruciating.
When her breathing stopped, I instinctively looked upwards.
The year after her death was brutal.
I had never felt so alone, like a piece of me missing. Every night, I would
remember the last minutes of my mother's life, the physical body struggling
to survive. I couldn't believe she had felt no pain, even with morphine.
I felt overwhelming grief and guilt that I might have been able to do something
to relieve her suffering. My husband was terrified that I would join her.
I could not get out of bed each day.
He finally got me out of the house
to a lake for Memorial Day. I felt like a zombie, so unconnected to this
world. Suddenly everyone noticed there was blood in the boat and then that
it was coming from me! I was white as a sheet they said.
They rushed me to the hospital
where I learned I was 8 weeks pregnant. But there were complications and
I would need surgery. Out in the hall, my husband asked if I would be able
to have more children, and the doctor said he was concerned that I would
even survive. If I did, he said, I probably wouldn't be able to have children.
For the first time in my life, I cried hysterically, thinking that I had
wasted my life.
But then something happened. Right
before they wheeled me into the operating room, I felt suddenly surrounded
with a great warm peace. Then I came from a dark place into a garden of
lilies in colors I had never seen before, colors not in our human color
spectrum. The lilies were transparent and I could see them growing before
my eyes. There was a high tinkling sound like wind chimes. The purest, brightest
light, which didn't hurt my eyes, felt like a warm blanket around me.
As I walked forward,
I saw my mother's mother and father standing on either side of
another figure who was facing away from me. As I came closer,
the person turned around, and it was my mother! She was a thousand
times more luminescent and glowing than I could ever have imagined
her to be. There was no trace of the "death
grimace" she had worn the last time I had seen her.
"Mom," I said, "am
"No, honey," she said, "you're
just dreaming. You're going to have a child and a wonderful life.
I'm OK, I'm always with you."
Then my grandparents
and I talked for a while. I can't remember the details of what
they told me, but the words that come close are that they "downloaded information" to
Suddenly I awoke in the hospital
bed with a euphoria and glow that everyone who visited my room noticed.
They said I looked different but couldn't put their finger on it. After
my slow recovery, people who hadn't seen me in some time mentioned I looked
different, too, though no one could say how. They either wanted to get closer,
like warming their hands to a fire, or were afraid and spooked away.
It's now been four
years and my experience has given me heightened abilities that
I could never have dreamed of. I understand things in a new way
and continue to learn how to balance what I need to finish here
in life with wanting to return to my heavenly home. For some
time after my experience, I thought I had been "sent" back
by God, but it has been revealed to me while in prayerful meditation
that I chose to come back. There were things to finish here on
earth before returning to my heavenly home. Through all my increased
challenges, I feel so blessed with God's message of unconditional
love here on earth.
On a personal note:
I thank Betty for sharing her experience with us all. It has
helped me to cope with my periodic "homesickness" and to continue
on with my mission until my graduation and return home.