"Don't worry Maggie, you're going home", these were the soothing words my mother heard repeated by her grandfather as she sat holding her grandmother's hand watching her slowly slip away from this world. She was 4 years old at the time and she told me that this memory has always been firmly fixed in her mind. At the time she did not understand what her grandfather meant but in later life realised the truth behind the words ................... (This is an extract from my book, the Going Home chapter, covering my understanding of this subject).
Earlier in the book I cover the effect the loss of my Father had on my life, I now had to deal with the loss of my Mother, an experience I knew would come with time, an experience I tried never to think about.
Mum passed in September 2019 and in between the grief, I found that the knowledge and deep routed faith I had gained in the many years after my father’s passing, did help me. I believe she (the soul she really was & is) still exists, somewhere. I always thought that after she passed I would somehow ‘feel’ her around me, but I sensed that she really had gone far, far away leaving just space, time and memories behind. I did once have a vivid dream of her standing beside me in my kitchen as I made breakfast, so I hold on to the thought that she is still ‘there’ somewhere I cannot reach.
I work in the radio communications business and I can acquaint with the thoughtform that you have to be on the same frequency in order to communicate over two-way radios, if you are on another frequency there is no way radios can communicate. I see my Mother and all those loved and lost as being on another frequency, a higher frequency which we cannot reach, which we are not tuned into and if she or other family members wanted to lower their frequency to visit us, they can’t, maybe only visiting us in our dreams when our frequency is “switched off”.
I hold a modicum of comfort that I was with her when she passed, I sometimes joked with her in her final years saying “Mum, don’t you think about going anywhere without me being with you”, although she smiled at the time, in the end she granted me my wish. I spent the last 4 days of her life with her, day & night, sleeping on a chair-bed beside her, knowing she was dying and doing everything I could to re-assure her, holding the knowledge that although she was unconscious and seemed, again, ‘so far away’, she could still hear me.
She proved my belief that when someone is unconscious, they can still hear you, even if they look completely ‘out of it’. When she first lost consciousness, I asked her to squeeze my hand if she could hear me, she did, she also squeezed the hand of my daughter Maria when she asked, which was amazing and of some comfort and encouragement to continue talking to her. I repeated the Rosary, which she loved plus her favourite prayers, the Going Home prayer too, a comforting reassurance to a soul who is about to depart. Also reminding her of good times in her life, reassuring her to not be afraid, All would be Well, I was there and would stay beside her. On the last day of her life here she no longer squeezed my hand and I knew the time had come.
Family came to say their goodbyes, my brother came across from Ireland too which was of great support and I could see how much it affected him to see our Mother nearing the end of her beautiful life. In the end it was just me and her, at night, when she took her last breath, I was stilling holding her hand. My understanding gave me strength and as I stood back and looked at her I saw the ‘life force’ had gone from her body, it was not like she was asleep it was as though laying there was just a ‘body’, a shell which no longer housed my Mother.
I believe that her soul left some hours earlier when my brother and I said The Rosary together by her bed. My mother had a strong faith in the power of the Rosary and always said it following a family loss. My daughter sat in the background as my brother and I prayed and she told me afterwards that as we were half way through the rosary prayers she felt she saw a golden light above my Mother and noticed that her breathing suddenly changed (I do remember her breathing changing half way through), I know that the soul can leave once death is certain so I’m glad this happened during the prayer union between my brother and I, my daughter also said she felt a strange power in the repetitive prayers and I firmly believe this helped my Mother when she most needed it.
The edge of the grief was softened by immersing myself in the arrangements for her funeral, with my brother’s help, I was determined she would have a good ‘send-off’. I know that she would have loved the Irish Piper whom we arranged to walk in front of her coffin playing “Amazing Grace’ as she was carried to the altar at the front of the church, also the service and then the Irish Piper walking behind her coffin out of the church playing ‘Going Home’ a sad but apt song/hymn for her exit.
Before the service began, I was relieved that I was feeling strong that day and not the emotional wreck I had feared, I just had to be strong, strong for my Mum. Then my Uncle John arrived, my Mum’s younger brother, he walked head bowed to the front of the church, I went to greet him and took one look at his face reflecting my own grief hidden deep inside, this cracked my determination and I could feel my strength melting slowly. The Eulogy was read out by my brother and I, we had each prepared our own memories. My brother did Mum proud, had people smiling at his memories and stories of funny moments, like my Dad he is a natural ‘speaker’, so confident. As for me? I am a jelly, like my mother, not a public speaker shying away at the thought of speaking in front of a crowd. I managed to get halfway through my prepared words until I got to the part, “I now wish to honour my mother by saying…….” Then I could speak no more, I did not cry, my mouth just shut tight and I looked towards my brother beside me for help, he stepped forward and took over reading my notes. My daughter said afterwards she was amazed I managed to get as far as I did, it was only the thought I had to try to do Mum proud that got me that far, but she would have understood.
At the graveside I had become more peaceful, watching as others cried. I had managed to hold the thought that Mum wasn’t in the coffin, ‘she’ / her soul, wasn’t there, she was now with my father and brother, her siblings and all those she had loved and lost and what a Welcome Home she would have received!!! The rest is a blur and in the ensuing days / weeks and months my grief surfaced with me trying hard not to lose control, not just to sink on the floor as a blubbering wreck, trying hard to follow my own advice to replace tears with prayers. I became frightened to even think of her particularly when I was driving as I could not afford to arrive at my destination as an emotional mess, so I learnt to override my thoughts of her at certain times, sometimes feeling guilty for doing so but I had to survive, for her, live my life for her, in memory of her and in honour of her.
The difference in the grief between the loss of my Mother & Father is that I had no understanding of life or death when my father passed, I had been brought up to believe that he had ‘gone to heaven’ and that was it, but this didn’t quite wash with me, he had ‘gone’ from my life and I didn’t have the knowledge or beliefs that I do now which came into play by the time my Mother passed. What I know / believe / feel doesn’t take the grief away but it gave and gives me solace to know that I will see her and my father again, it gave me strength by her graveside as her coffin was lowered, it gives me some peace of mind and most importantly Hope. God help those who have no Hope or belief, how do they cope?