The text message came at 11.30 to say if I wanted to say my goodbyes, now was the time.
Hubby and I dropped everything, and as I tried to cancel his doctor’s appointment, he packed up the dog and the car for the seven and a half hour trip.
I rang the ward and spoke to the Sister. I explained where we were, and she said if we got there, regardless of the time, we’d be able to visit. It was not meant to be.
We were just locking the front door when the text message came to say Mum had passed away. It was midday.
OB was already on his way (some 5 hours for him) and intended to continue his journey. I asked him to give Mum a kiss from me when he saw her in The Chapel of Rest.
It’s been expected. Mum has been in God’s Waiting Room for a while and now she’s with my Dad, free from pain and confusion, whole again with the man she loved for 46 years.
Sis is devastated, and ‘not in a good place’ as she put it. I’ve let Bro know, Mum’s brother, and my Dad’s surviving sister but have been unable to contact Dad’s surviving brother.
There’s not much else I can do. It’s pointless travelling all that way and then coming back again.
I said my goodbyes when I saw Mum in December, though I’d spoken to her a few times since, including Monday when I asked how she was, her reply being ‘I’m not very well.’ She knew who I was and I told her I loved her. She said she loved me too. My last card would have reached her either Tuesday or yesterday. It was one of the ones I made the other day.
Even when you know it’s going to happen, it’s like a punch in the gut and everything goes sideways. It will be down to Sis to do the paperwork though Mum had already arranged and paid for her funeral so that us kids wouldn’t have the worry.
I believe no-one dies as long as they are remembered. I have some wonderful memories of my Mum, from her shooting mayonnaise all over herself when she bit into her KFC burger, CB radios she couldn’t get the hang of, endless rabbits, boats that weren’t (top boxes on cars), apron strings always begging to be untied, baking sessions and a thousand other things that made her my Mum.
I look in the mirror and see her every day. She will always be with me.