The poem that follows was inspired by the constant memory of the moment my Mother left this earth.  But, it is not only written to record a memory, it is dedicated to the many people I know, including myself, that may have their final hour alone.

I have written about my being alone, as I reach the end of my journey Within Crepusculum,  I have worried about entering my own final darkness without someone I know to accompany me on that profound voyage.  I have thought endlessly of the many things I need to do after I begin my twilight journey, especially deciding who could accompany to the end of my Darkness.

Because I was determined to make my Mother’s final hour as safe as possible for her, I think of all of the people who might be alone.  I do believe my Mother felt loved and accompanied.  I sang her songs, especially “You are my Sunshine” and talked to her to look for her Angel and that at the very end of the path she should see my father waiting for her.  My sister interjected that she always thought of that particular time to be colorful and that you pass from the darkness into Paradise on the Rainbow Bridge.  I  quickly included this in my whispering in her ear.  We both wanted her to know she wasn’t alone and that we were going to accompany her all the way to the Rainbow Bridge.

I think that all humankind should have that ability to have the living accompany them as far as they can and help them not be frightened.  Death is as poignant as Birth.  In birth you have a whole life ahead of you and you aren’t even aware of that until you are much older.  But in Death you have lived your whole life and your heart is filled with the memories from it.  To have someone you love or know accompany on your final journey into the Darkness is a fitting wish.

Sometimes I kid myself and say that death, mine, doesn’t bother me.  In reality that is a lie, a cover up  so  that I don’t express how frightened I may feel about it.  Now, I can’t imagine being alone or just with strangers at that final hour.  If I had been able to understand life more I would have already accepted that I prefer having someone near me when I was with my Aunt when she died many years ago.  She waited for me to arrive before she allowed her death to occur.  She needed me, her choice, to tell her she was safe to leave and that I would be there by her.  Shortly after I told her she died.  That very moment  when some one passes from earthly life and on into Paradise is indescribable and I certainly will not even try to do it, yet I will say it is profound.

Just take a moment to think about that moment.  Think of what separates life from death and then imagine its absence……………

One Little Word

There is this little word, often used within a phrase,

that heralds the difference between life and death.

You never know the exact moment that death arrives,

and often you question how much longer.

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You ask how much longer not because you want it over,

but because you continue to pray for “for just a little more time”,

Time to hug, time to kiss, time to feel and time to remember,

yet you know that it all depends on one little word, one little phrase.

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Panic reigns inside your chest and head as your heart beats harder,

your eyes well with tears and you know there isn’t time for tears.

Tears choke the words you need to say in the hope they are heard,

words you use to bring comfort and  healing, but never death.

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You say those words and pray that life continues a moment longer

so that you feel you have one more second to share your love.

Deep inside, once again,  you tremble and falter because your heart

is aware of that one little word waiting to define who is still living……..

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Your words tumble forth, yet in the quiet of the moment you know

these are the last words you will be able to utter to the one you love.

There in that moment you hold tightly for fear of losing your loved one,

yet just then you know the time is here and the word is to be spoken.

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Hear it echo in the quiet of the moment as you place a kiss upon the cheek,

then one on the lips, while next you grope quickly to squeeze the hand.

Silently, with no need to to speak, you lay your head against the other and bid good bye,

good bye to the one you love because now “they no longer breathe”.

Prelude

Once more I ask you to understand that this post is not about the Crepusculum.   The next post will once again address my feelings on entering my Crepusculum, but for now and for a couple more posts I will share with you my life as it is presently.

You are invited to play “You Are My Sunshine” by clicking the audio button.  This particular accompaniment is a recording by The Gene Autrey Band.  Sing along please.  The lyrics are slightly different than those originally written by Jimmy Davis and Charles Mitchell.  I first sang my version to my Mother four years ago while she was in the Critical Care Unit, following a major stroke.  It has become our anthem.

You Are My Sunshine

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey, or purple, or pink….
You’ll never know dear
How much I love you
Please be be my sunshine for all of my days.

You are the Mother
I am the son–
You always have loved me
as much as I have loved you.
You’ll never know dear
How great you have been
Please be my sunshine for all of my days.

I have taken nearly a lifetime to accept the simple reality that my Mother will die.  Now I question, each day, will it be today, tomorrow or another day, but regardless it draws nearer and nearer.  The daily changes are significant, particularly, when Momma becomes quieter and quieter and less willing to speak or even answer a simple question.  Yesterday was the first day in three weeks that she interacted with me, but now today,  stopped responding this afternoon.  I don’t think that it is always in her power to communicate, even though there are times she can express displeasure very quickly.

It is during her quiet times that a phantom meets me face to face causing  me to be bewildered and  and weak  and  then I  realize how easily my nemesis reigns.

Daily I watch and understand her unhappiness and feel the malcontent within her heart.  I know that I would never be able to withstand the onslaught of degeneration she experiences and now I have begun to respond to that call and pray that I support her own orison that begs a speedy departure from this physical life.

Her beacon shines bright toward heaven and as she waits quietly and serenely, I  will support her appetency.  In so doing, a few weeks, ago  I wrote a poem embracing the idea of her departure.  By writing I hope the words will soothe and strengthen me,  particularly when my nemesis becomes overwhelming……….

You Are My Sunshine

Lately, I also realize I must tell this incorrigible, phantom it will not win.   I will support my Mother’s departure and I will repeatedly, read this poem because it came from deep within my heart and that its’ spirit will continue  to minister a balm that will ease me into change.   I have also begun to believe that Momma will be in a heavenly paradise where her spirit will no longer be plagued by her earthly pain and she will be able to be happy and be with everyone she loves that preceded her in death.  There she will also be able to be my Mother, standing with open arms and a warm smile, as she  welcomes my sister and I at our time.

A friend suggested that I prepare myself now for a new identity,  an updated life plan, where I  will no longer be a caretaker/protector, but one that allows growth in my own life.  I hadn’t really thought of this before because I intentionally blocked it from my thoughts.  Now I can see how important a plan is and how it will form a bridge between here and where I need to go.   As I have written before, my Mother’s wisdom shines yet to this day.  One day, not long ago,  my Mother spoke to my sister.  She repeatedly told my sister that she was worried for her.  Eventually, my sister reasoned that she was not speaking of her, but of me.  She was concerned about my life following her death.  Even so close to the end of her journey she expressed her concern for me.  When my sister told me, I didn’t think much of it until I understood that she knew before me that  I need to make new plans for my life.

I may have acquiesced to Momma’s orison, but in doing so I realize how little time I have left to get ready and to be with her.  And so I shall continue to write as much as I can to help me, but I also will spend as much time each day kneeling at her bedside, head to head so that my voice is directed straight to her ear;  Momma will quietly lie there, I will babble on as usual and then, every once in a while Momma will respond and I will send that moment directly to my heart to be locked away and not forgotten.

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