Five Years Ago This Morning

Written July 6, 2009

Five years ago this morning, I went to the hospital to give Annie her
bath. I did not know it would be her last.

The night before, Annie had expressed concern to me that the
hospital had not given her a bath. The staff had given her a bowl of
warm water each of her two days there, but she had been too weak to
do any more than wipe her face. I was shocked that the hospital had
not been bathing her. Didn't they see how weak she was?! I swore
to her that I'd be at that hospital every morning to give her a
bath. She smiled, and the worry left her face.

Five years ago this morning was a special time for Annie and me. I
gently, but thoroughly washed her from head to toe. Annie always
loved to be rubbed; and so, she enjoyed each attention I gave. "Oh
that feels so good," she kept saying. "Thank you for being here."
There was no uncomfortableness between us. We had 20 years of love
and trust.

After her bath, I showed her that I had brought her perfume to her.
I dabbed some on her. She smiled.

Later that afternoon, I learned the truth. And afterwards, I went
home to tell each of our boys, one by one, that "Mommy isn't going
to make it." I remember thinking that those were the worst moments
of my life. I was wrong. The worst moments came the next morning
when I had to tell my two younger boys that "Mommy passed away."
(But somehow they already knew--the night had whispered the truth.)

I'll be thinking of you this morning, Dolly. I'll remember those
sweet moments we shared five years ago, the last morning of your
life.

And I'll remember the evening too, when family and friends gathered
around your bedside, when I held your hand and whispered to you over
and over, "It's okay, Dolly. Everyone is here. Everyone is safe.
It's okay, sweetie. You don't have to fight any more. It's okay to
rest, to let go. We all love you so much! It's okay. It's okay."

I'll remember, Dolly. And I'll find comfort in the words you
inspired Jonathan to write:

My boys were with me. The one on the left was holding me; the one on
the right was patting my hand. I was busy listening to them talk to
me in soft voices.

I was looking at my boys and not at the hospital room around me.
Someone tapped me on the head. I thought it might be the nurse.
Then I sensed something odd. It wasn't the nurse who tapped. It
was God. "Not now," I said. "I'm fighting hard. There's work still
here to do."

"Your time is now," He whispered. "So say a quick goodbye." I wasn't
ready, but I had no choice. I did as He instructed. I peeked in and
left.

I guess it can't be helped that I left all of you so suddenly. Did
you see the birds at the windowsill suddenly scatter into the
night? Will it make it easier to know that one of them was me?

And one was Grandma, and another was Grandpa. And the rest were
others I have known. They all came to Elwood to escort me on
home.

Did you see the one cardinal flying low? Yes, that was me!

Family and friends, don't mourn for me too long. Get on with life.
Take care of things. Be brave and proud.

I'll surely miss you everyone
About that I will not lie
But as long as you remember me
I will never die.