PSI Symposium Annual Journal 2006-7

A TRANSCENDENT MOMENT ON THE DAY OF MY MOTHER’S DEATH 

By Bill Gardiner  

November 20, 2005

 

On the morning, August 31, 2005 I arrived at the nursing home at 7:30 am.  My mother was dying but I didn’t know if this would be the day.

Around 8:00 in the morning my daughter, Paula, brought my six year old granddaughter, Rowan, to the nursing home.  Rowan brought my mother a bouquet of flowers.  On the flowers she had attached paper butterflies.  The butterfly is of course a symbol of transformation. My mother was conscious at the time and she made a gesture of thanks.

Paula brought a copy of the book, the Velveteen Rabbit.   I read a couple of chapters to Rowan and my mother.

At 9:00 Rowan left with her father, John.

At around 9:30 my mother slipped into a coma.  I went home to Arlington to get my sister, Paula, and my brother, Tom, who were staying at my house.  We got back to the nursing home at around 10:45.

At around 11:30 my mother started to breath with difficulty as her lungs filled up with fluid.

My sister sat on one side of the bed holding her hand.  I stood at the head of the bed with my hand on her forehead.  I started praying, “Go to the light.  Feel the welcome arms of God.   We love you and we will always remember you” I kept repeating phrases like these out loud.

At 12:30 my mother’s heart stopped beating.  My daughter Paula, who is a physician, felt her pulse and said that she had died.

Earlier in the week I anticipate that at that moment of my mother’s death, I would break down in tears and be overwhelmed with grief.

But that is not what happened.  Rather I felt a sense of bliss, an awareness of peace, and a feeling of completeness.  And I said out loud, “All is well.  All is well.”  It was truly a transcendent moment.

My mother had lived a long and full life.  There was so much love and joy that we shared together. Now she was returning to the Source of Life.

Even though she had died, I had the feeling that all is well.