Mom left us before the start of spring.
In her last days, I remember trudging through slush pools in the hospital lot to keep vigil with her.
She was rarely alone.
Her room, nestled in a corner near the supplies, was strangely quiet, despite the ward traffic just outside the door. We wet her lips with a sponge swab and rubbed her feet between our hands. Our hearts ached, knowing we would soon say goodbye.
The sun was shining the afternoon Mom died. Its blaze broke through the drapes, drawn to filter out the brightness. That light brought me great comfort, and peace.
I was reminded of how much Mom loved us, and even in her illness, the strength she drew to endure.
Mom had an unwavering faith and trust in God. In her suffering, she found strength. That was a comfort to us.
We struggle to find our way in darkness. With the light, we see what lies ahead.
Mom is truly the beacon of light for those she left behind.
Spring brings longer days filled with light. The light gives us hope, and in the trials and losses we face, they do the same.
Spring evokes a sense of hope for us. What lies dormant is once again made anew. As the winter ends, buds appear on trees, and traces of grass are spotted under banks of snow.
The time of our mother’s departure from this world could not have been more fitting.
I am grateful for my mother. The life I shared with her has softened my grief. That’s a silver lining for me, even as I continue my journey without her.
May you rest in peace, Mom.
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