Christmas Eve 2002

On Tuesday, December 24th, 2002, after an amazing night with my in-laws and the traditional “7 fishes” Christmas dinner, I went to spend Christmas Eve with my mother for the last time.

The finality didn't really hit me at the time, but writing that now physically pains me.

My mother was admitted to the hospital the previous Friday after collapsing at work. My father was called and raced to the hospital. My husband called me at work during our holiday party, with only sketchy details- Mom had fainted… I asked him to have my dad call me as soon as possible.

When Dad called the news wasn’t good. Her heart stopped, and she was cardioverted once before being loaded into the ambulance, and needed to be shocked again while en route to the hospital. She was unconscious and he was going home…

Going HOME?!?!

A co-worker took me to the hospital in my car while another followed us down- they wanted to make sure I had my car. One offered to come with me into the ER, but this I had to do alone.

I don't know if I ever thanked them for the huge service they did for me that day. I am not sure I could thank them enough.

I have to say, I don’t think it is possible to prepare yourself for seeing your comatose parent in an emergency room on a ventilator- I felt faint as the air left my lungs in a rush. Faintness. I gripped the siderail to stay upright. The wave of dizziness passed.

I stood beside my mother , held her hand, and spoke to her gently, telling her we were waiting for a CCU bed, that I would stay with her, that she wasn’t alone. We would not leave her alone. And once we were in CCU, I asked the nurse how it usually went in these cases, already knowing the answer.

Over the weekend, both the Cardiologist and Pulmonologist advised me that my mom had only a small chance of survival. My siblings and I all supported my Dad’s decision to extubate Mom, which was done on Monday, December 23rd. Mom was never alone. One of us was always with her.

My prayer was simple on those days: "Please God, just do whatever Mom wants."

My suspicion was that Mom wanted to spend this Christmas with her father, who died just after Christmas when I was a baby. She was, now, the age he was then...

Christmas Eve at 10pm, I took over. My brother had lovingly washed and brushed my mother's hair, removing the blood from where she hit her head when she collapsed. I sat with her, sang Christmas Hymns to her and said my goodbyes. I suspected her time with us was short.

At 2am, I was on my way home, my brother telling me to go, to celebrate Christmas with my children. Santa needed to make an appearance, after all. My son John's first Christmas...

There was over a foot of snow by morning, so much that my younger sister was unable to get to the hospital that morning. My older sister stayed with Mom after relieving my brother that afternoon, once her children had celebrated that morning.

When the phone rang late that night, I knew it was the call. My heartbroken older sister... telling me Mom was gone. She would be spending this Christmas with the father she loved.

So now I cry during Christmas services. And I cry when I hear the radio play:

Sir I wanna buy these shoes, for my Momma please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time
You see, she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful,
If Momma meets Jesus tonight.

Nine Christmas nights later, she is still missed, still loved. Merry Christmas, Mom!