It’s been nearly 2 months but I feel finally ready to write this. To finally put words on a paper. To know what I truly feel.
‘Hey Jonno. I just want to let you know, Mommy died.’
‘Yes, she’s gone’
Just before the plane was about to commence take off. The most terrible of news I could ever imagine came true.
After finding out how critical my mother’s condition was the previous evening I made the decision to get a flight to come and support my family and make sure I see my mom before it gets worse. With the help of friends of my mother I was sponsored a ticket. The morning was in many ways relaxed on the 8th of February. I had no work and no place to be. I stayed in my room all day, read the word, read a novel, fiddled on the guitar, aimlessly searched the web and prayed for a miracle.
There was a moment, which I can’t describe too well. But around midday I involuntarily broke out in tears, praying that she wouldn’t die. Pleading. The thought never crossed my mind but the words just came out. Only later was I informed around that time was the time that she closed her eyes. I don’t know whether science could prove that emotion I had but there must have been some connection that made me feel the way I did.
I was in no rush that day. Because what could I do but wait for the plane? And now going back to after that phone call things changed drastically. I have never cried in public but upon hearing that news a plane with approximately 100 passengers, would know that I cried. But at that point it didn’t matter. That moment made me realise how dum it is to worry of what others think of you. It’s more likely that I will never see any of the people on that plane than meeting just one again. Consuming your emotions and actions will just make it appear at a time you may not like. It’s like the saying: Choose a day in the week to rest, otherwise your body will do it for you.
The plane ride was difficult. All I could do was think about what just happened. Then came a moment of delight. I heard the Lord say: ‘She is going to be resurrected.’ I rejoiced in that moment. Grateful for what I just heard. Hope was brought back into it. I so badly wanted to call my dad, tell him it will be okay, that she is going to be alright.
But I couldn’t.
I didn’t need airplane mode to disconnect all my connections for I was already on a plane. I had to wait. So I waited and prayed. Upon arrival I messaged my lift and called my dad. Telling him it would be okay. Saying that God is going to bring her back to life. I called my brother too, told him the same thing but neither was in the same mindset as I was. As I was calling them I was running to the pickup spot. I finally had the opportunity to do something about getting to the hospital quicker. So I sprinted. Backpack and all. I did get slightly lost, I mean it was 10 years since I was at that airport. But I made it out, frantically looking for my lift. It took maybe 2 minutes of waiting but the lift came and we were out of there.
I got to the hospital and it all was just so strange. Not a place one would normally go to. My brother came to get me outside to show me the way. We walked up to the top till I came into the room my mother was. I could see my dad at the end of the room. At that moment so many thoughts were rushing through my mind. I then sprinted over to him with everything inside of me falling apart. To lose a mother means that you lost the person that raised you from an embryo to a fully sized adult hurts in ways one cannot describe without actually experiencing. But to lose the love of your life, your soulmate, means you are only half the person you used to be. I didn’t know why I was crying though because I still believed she would wake up.
When I finally looked at my mom she was turning yellow. Which is what happens when your liver fails. I kissed her on her forehead, held her right hand and prayed for her. With every third word needing a deep breath. It became hard to say even three words but I had to pray. I had to believe.
I was eventually stopped. Told it was no use. But I still believed.
So when is this resurrection going to happen?
The next morning my dad spoke to me and told me what he just realised. She died on the 8th of February, her hospital bed was number 8, it was a full moon that night, and in the Hebrew calendar the new day starts at around sunset, making the day she passed, the 8th day of the week.
One of the meanings of the number 8 is resurrection.
Her resurrection will commence in heaven. It all became clear to me. I guess sometimes we interpret things the way we want it to happen. The reality that she won’t come back before the second coming wasn’t a nice thing to accept.
The sudden death of my mother made me realise how short life is and what is important and what is not. Life means nothing if you don’t have people with you at the end. Every moment is an opportunity to change someones life. It’s never too late.
Life goes by in an instant. And that’s why you need to live life leaving nothing behind. If this is the end can you look back and say I did the best I could? I did what I wanted to achieve in life with the people right next to me and not behind?
What is important is people and how you treat them. Leaving nothing behind. Being intentional. Saying how you feel when you feel it. There are bad times. But with the right people and more importantly the right attitude, the good times will outweigh the bad ones 10 to 1.
With each day being a surprise I would really want to encourage you to be intentional about what you do at all times. Love those around you unconditionally. Your time should be spent for only the important things. Hug those who are near, call those who are far. Do the things you’ve always dreamed of but never did. Smile with love and joy in your heart.
Time has a lot to do with the way we feel rather than a constant factor.
Time is slow when you wait.
Time is fast when you are late.
Time is deadly when you are sad.
Time is short when you are happy.
Time is endless when you are in pain.
Time is long when you feel bored.
Time is beautiful when you are in love.
And every second spent with you was short and beautiful. I love you.
6 thoughts on “Mommy”
That’s very touching.
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Thank you. It was difficult to write it but I felt it needed to be said. All the best!
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Dear friend, I am so sorry. Thank you for sharing. I will be praying for you as I know that the grief never goes away, egven when we the faith that we will see our loved one again. I still miss my dad who died 17 years ago. It was also quite sudden.
Wise words about living intentionally. I think that includes sharing the gospel and God’s love with everyone. I hope you are staying well. Take care. Paula
Thank you friend, I really appreciate your words. And I am sorry to hear about your dad. I realise it doesn’t just suddenly get better and it’s something that we just live with, some days are just harder than others. All the best and thank you again.