Tuesday, June 25, 2013

I Want To Go Home To My Father

The forecast didn’t call for rain today, but promptly at 7:30 this morning the thunder roared loudly, and the downpour began.  That’s okay; I wasn’t sleeping.  As I got up off the couch and prepared to leave mom’s home, I took one last look around, and then walked out into the pouring rain.  Across the street, the neighbor Mario was fiddling with his fishing rod in his open garage door, and so I slowly walked through the downpour to greet him.  He looked up at me, soaking wet, in a bit of a surprise, but that was okay.   I was still not used to the words, and so the rain hid the tears as I said:
My mother died last night.
It was a most peaceful death as I watched her last breath at 2AM, and said goodbye.  I think at least some of the hospice workers will be surprised today; we had a meeting scheduled for Thursday to consider how she’s doing, and her future care.  Her strength had surprised everyone.  Her breathing increased yesterday evening, as she slept through another day without eating, and at 8PM I went home.  But my life-in caregiver texted my niece, telling her she was scared.  And my niece called me, and so I rushed back to the house.  That was a great blessing, for having the caring caregiver, and for the loving niece --- who is an eldercare nurse and knows of these things.  It may be time, Uncle Tom.  I had prayed for God’s blessing and mercy for mom, and that I might be with her at the end. 
Great is our God.
These last days she has slept continuously, and took nourishment only (it seemed to me) as a swallowing reflex, as we poured Ensure in her mouth.  But she didn’t say anything.  Among her last words to me last week were words to tell me again that she loved me, and once to say:
I want to go home to my father.  She couldn’t hear me, but I softly responded to her: I know, mom.  And I’m sure he’s waiting for you.  I wish I could go with you, but you go on ahead to him.  It’s okay.  I’ll come along later.
Mom was the last of her seven siblings to go home, and I am the last of mine.  For a while I wondered if she would be the last one standing, but in this too, God heard my prayers. 
And I thank you for yours.    


  1. Dear Tom
    When I saw the title of today's post, I almost knew what was coming. By intuition, I knew "I want to go home to my Father" were probably your Mom's words.

    So the vigil is over, but the grieving continues. Were you aware that you were grieving in these past few years? What a strange feeling it must be for you now.

    I know I've been silent for some time now, but I had been ramping up my prayers for you and your Mom. I've been with you in Spirit. It's been amazing to read how your Mom was doing and amazing to read of her strength.

    May God look with Mercy upon her soul. May the Angels come and greet her and accompany her to Paradise. May the perpetual light shine upon her. Through the mercy of God, may she rest in peace.

  2. Oh Tom. How sorry I am to hear the news. Only you could find the right words to really make me understand how this feels...

    Your mom was so lucky to have you as her son. As a mother myself I know what its like to be bursting with pride. Your mother was so proud of you - of who you are. Yes worldy accomplishments are great, but you have acheived SO much more. I have never met a more dedicated son and follower of the Lord. I'm sure she left in peace to eat with him at his table and tell him again what he already knows so well "My Tommy is a great, humble, dedicated man"...

    God bless you Tom as you continue this next leg of the journey.

    Hugs& prayers -

  3. Thank you so much for your kind words.

    Maryellen, caring for your husband all these years, you perhaps more than anyone knows what love means, and what love does. Albeit distant, I thank you for your friendship. I always pray for you and Clinton, and one day --- if not here --- we will meet in person.

    Ginger, you know how to love as a mom truly should, and mine did. I am glad to know you. It continues to rain much these past few days, and with what is happening in our country, I think it's God crying, along with me. But you, Ginger, give us hope.

    I will try to find time today to post some type of tribute to my mom; some have asked that I do that, but I'm not sure how to summarize 95 years.

    1. It would be difficult in any case to post a tribute to your Mom. Give it some time. When the time is right, the words will come.

      Thank you for your prayers and the long distance friendship. I keep you in my prayers, and your Mom to soon discover the marvelous place Christ has prepared for her to dwell in eternity (if she's not there already)

  4. Tom,

    Out of the blue today I thought of you and something told me to come over for a visit. And now I know why. I am so sorry about your Mom ... so, so sorry. But I know she was cared for by a very loving son.

    I wanted to share that shortly before my Nonna passed away, she told her sisters, "I am going home to Mother." We were never sure if she meant her earthly mother or Mary, but we like to think she meant both.

    Prayers for you. Prayers for the soul of your mother.

  5. Thank you, Maria. Prayers are always needed, and I know mom has many praying for her. I received an email that one of my dad's brothers, Uncle Andy died the other day. The world becomes a lonelier place as family departs, one by one. But God, and the friends He gives me will always be here. This I know, and am thankful for.