Lafayette, La. (KLFY) “I received the news that my Mother was dying from none other than President Obama at a meeting I was attending with him at the White House. It seems the message had been passed to him and he approached me and said “Billy, you need to get home. Your Mother is dying.”
First, I got to a phone and called my sisters who were with her in her room at assisted living. They put Mom on the phone and I asked her to hang in there; that I was coming home and that I loved her very much. She didn’t respond, so I asked my sister to write my message down and show it to her. She took the pencil and circled the word, “loved,” and wrote next to it, “Too much.”
“Isn’t that sweet!” My sister said.
“Oh, no, I corrected her, “she’s upset. She thinks I’ve given instructions to keep her artificially alive. She’s ready to join Dad. I’ve got to get over there and straighten this out.”
When I got there, my sisters told me how Mom had told them of a trip she had taken, during a long sleep, with her parents and deceased siblings, to the place she was soon going and how beautiful it was.
“Was Dad with them?” I asked out of pure curiosity.
No, I was told. Mom had told them that Dad was coming later to get her.
Those three days with Mom and my sisters and the hospice nurses who took us through the stages of death were truly amazing. We were able to experience together with Mom her last journey to that last night as she became less and less coherent. As we gathered close around her, she left us, as surely as though one of us had left the room. Then she began a clear-as-a-bell discussion with our Dad. We, of course, couldn’t hear him, but it was like listening to one side of a phone conversation.
“Ok, Boone,” as she affectionally called him, “ok, if you say so. Ok yes, ok Boone. Ok”
Then she turned to me, stared directly into my eyes, and in a perfectly clear voice, said to me, “He says I need your permission to leave.”
My sisters and I looked at each other in absolute amazement.
“Mom,” I finally managed, “we’re going to be ok. We’re ready for this. If Dad thinks it’s time, you go, baby.”
And with that she passed.
I did her eulogy for the family, and reminded all the friends gathered in our little church in Chackbay that if they came to tell her goodby, they were much too late. We had been with her when she left us, and it had been beautiful.
Was Dad really there? Was she just hallucinating? You decide for yourself.
I only know it is hard to be a non believer after that, even if you tried.
Pretty clear that there is much we can’t know for sure about life and death and what may await us on the other side.
One thing is sure. She taught us how to live and in her last moments, she taught us how to die.”