My mother died of cancer on Sept. 7, 1993. She had first been diagnosed with cancer back in 1988, but she had a hysterectomy and we had thought that the doctors had caught it in time.
Not so. It reoccurred in 1992, and she underwent both chemo-therapy and radiation treatments, that may have prolonged her life, but at the cost of much more pain (IMHO).
She was afraid of death to some degree, but when she collapsed that Tuesday morning and we rushed her to the hospital, it was apparent that her life was drawing to a rapid close.
She asked me if she were going to die that day, and I told her that, yes, it was most likely that she would be with Jesus that evening.
Somehow that seemed to cheer her up, and we spent the rest of the day chatting about things that mothers and sons talk about in such times.
I read to her from her Bible, and around 6:00 that evening, she began to become very tired and was drifting off to sleep.
Throughout that day I had asked her if she really knew how much I loved her, and how much all of her children and grandchildren loved her. Finally, at around 7:00, I asked her yet again, and, with what were to become her final words, she breathlessly replied 'I..love..you.'
I sat there on her bed, with her cradled in my arms, reading Psalms 23 over and over to her softly, knowing that hearing is usually the last of the senses to depart the dying, and knowing that the next voice she would hear would indeed be those from that Good Shepherd, whose lamb she had been throughout her life.
At 8:30, the doctor and a nurse came into the ICU room where my mother and I were, to check on her condition. The doctor examined her and said to me, basically, that her struggle was over and that the only thing keeping her with us were the machines.
I told him that she was ready and that he had my permission to discontinue any further efforts to keep her with us. The machines were stopped, they left, and once again I was alone with my mother.
'Heavenly Father, into Your Hands, I commit the soul of my mother, Dolores.' I kissed her face and then I gently handed her off to Jesus.
At that moment, I felt more alone than I had ever felt in my entire life, or would ever feel again, hopefully.
Eric The(ThankYouForListening)Hun