posted on Oct, 11 2007 @ 11:35 PM
I would like to share a story of faith that I experienced with my mother. Mom wasn't a bad woman, but I can say she wasn't a saint, and never let
her inner feelings be revieled. Love didn't flow from her, verbally or physically, but somehow we knew she loved us and that there were deep
sectrets deep behind her thick fasade.
Mom developed the dreaded Alzhiemers, and I was her caregiver. As her mind deteriorated, she became child like, and the layers that protected her
secrets began to melt along with her mind. She became extremely loving to us all, and it was such a joy to see and hold the Mom I had always longed
Mom never denounced God, or Jesus, but was in no way verbal about having a faith of really any kind. My Dad and I did, and my Mom and siblings
scoffed at us. That is just the way it was.
During the last year of her life, as she became more and more vulnerable, she began to unlock and show the faith she had deep in her heart. I had a
large picture of the Last Supper over my dining table. She would smile at it and point to Jesus and say "Good Man, Mama". (She called me MAMA in
the last monthes) She hugged us and kissed us more in the last 6 months of her life than she had in all the years of our lives prior. It was an
amazing thing to witness. I worked hard taking care of her, but it was the best two years of my life. It was a blessing to finally get to know
Fortunately, Mom was ambulatory up to the last ten days of her life. And in those last ten days, my work load was almost nill compared to the years
prior. I sat at her bed side, and talked about the old times and read her the bible. She was non verbal at the time, but she was at peace and I
could see joy and happiness in her hazel eyes. I too was at peace. I knew I was going to lose my Mom, but I had come to terms with all the old
baggage, and I was so thankful that I had been blessed to finally get to know the loving, kind, soft and wonderful person that had been hidden my
I need to clarify that she was not a mean or violent or abusive mother. She just was incapable of showing her love for her children, husband, or
anyone for that matter.
During that period, so many angels came into our lives. Of course there were doctors and nurses. But angels came out of the wood work to help see us
through that trying period. My youngest son was very involved in soccer back then, and the soccer family were an army of angels that appeared as
support and assistance for me. I could write volumes about all the episodes we had together.
I wanted to share one particular story with you as my contribution to this thread, and to get back to the purity of this thread.
There is a particular lovely family of devoted faith. They are immigrants from Mexico and had two boys. The eldest was my sons age, and the baby was
a newborn. The newborns name is Maguel. Miguel is now a young man with numerous disabilities. Anyway when he was a baby, Mom of course loved him and
spent every minute we were at soccer practice, or games interacting with Miguel.
Miguel was nine monthes old the night my Mom dies. That night, Mom passed away with my sons and myself at her bedside at home. We had just finished
reading the 23rd Psalm, I held her head in my arms, my sons were each holding a hand. As she exhaled her last breath, I could physical feel the peace
in the room, and it was as though I could feel her spirt leave her body. It was indiscrbable, I know that it was real, and it only reenforced my
beliefs in the Holy Trinity, and my faith as a Christian. I know it is weird to say, but it truly was a pivital time in my life, and probably the
most precious as well.
Back to Miguel. The next day life had to go forward, and I had to inform all of our soccer friends. So off to practice we went. As we arrived,
Miguels Mom met us at our car. She knew that Mom was gone. Miguel had cryed unconsolable exactly the moment she passed