After her funeral, my sister and I began the painful process of going through her things and deciding who would get what. I am grateful that it went smoothly; there were no arguments about who would get her china or jewelry. She had a lot of valuables but mostly it was sentimental items that we wanted. Each one of us, my brother, sister and I, had our own special memories of one thing or another and so it was healing to go through each item and remember.
The best thing about that time, though, was the time we spent with each other, my family and I, remembering. I think my mom probably liked that as she paused in her rejoicing from heaven and watched us. Later, as I told this to a friend, she began to reflect on how important family is; that there really is nothing more valuable than family.
Family really is more important than anything. I thought about my mom and her “valuables” and what she really valued. Before she died, we had a few days to say goodbye as the cancer took over her internal organs. She asked us not to fight when she was dying and I am proud to say that we honored her request. I realize that the most important thing to her, at the end of her life and all through her life, was family.
She loved her family, both immediate and extended, more than anything. Her last days were spent at a hospice facility. What a wonderful place to be at a time like that. She was able to say goodbye to everybody she loved. One by one they came in to her room that looked like her home and she talked with them as they cried. She loved them; they loved her. I have to admit that for me, it was painful to watch her say goodbye so many times. I told my sister and brother that it was like watching her die over and over again. I finally had to leave because I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Well, it wasn’t about me. It was about her. It was her chance to let her family know just how much they meant to her. And she could also see how much she meant to them. That was a blessing to her in her final, painful hours.
She finally died with my sister at her side, just the way she wanted. My sister gave her eulogy and she remarked how each one of us was symbolic of our mom’s mind, body and spirit. My brother’s role was as her mind because he took care of her financial needs. My sister’s role was as her body, because she took care of all her physical needs, such as doctor visits and the like. Finally, my role was as her spirit because we were just so alike. We were so much alike that we fought a lot in this life here on earth. We recognized it, finally, as we both got older and we made peace with each other. But I am, more than the two of them, just like her in spirit. And I am proud to say that I inherited her faith in God and that is what is getting me through the painful process of grieving over her death. It’s hard not to have her with us here on earth but I know that I’ll see her again. I do love you, mom, I’ll see you in heaven!
By Eunice Coughlin
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