An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating picture of God’s wings. After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno’s damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree.
Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings.
The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies. Then the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.
“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.” (Psalm 91:4)
Being loved this much should make a difference in your life. Remember the One who loves you, and then be different because of it.
Have an awesome day and remember this great promise!
There are many times throughout of lives that we can lose focus on the most important things in our lives and direct our attention on things that may seem more important. It was once said that the most important things in life aren’t seen…the following story is a heartwarming illustration of this idea.
A few summers’s ago, a man decided to take his wife and his precious little 5 year old daughter, along with him on a business trip to an exotic land. He had been searching for a job for many months and plans were made to meet an executive of a very well-known company for a job interview. The future looked promising, for the possibility of receiving an offer from the company would give the man and his family financial security for a long time.
The little family arrived at their destination and to their surprise, the hotel in which they were going to stay was on a very beautiful beach…even more delightful and exquisite than they ever imagined.
They quickly changed into their bathing suits, gathered their beach chairs, towels, blankets and umbrella and made their way to the turquoise sea as fast as they could. For the rest of the day, they all laughed and enjoyed themselves splashing in the water, swimming, body surfing and making sandcastles…what a glorious day it was!!!
The next morning, while his family was still sleeping, the man went down to the outdoor café to meet the business executive for the big meeting. Excited and anxious, the father met the company rep and they soon began their discussion….
A short time later, in the hotel, after eating their breakfast, the mother and little girl got ready for another visit to the white sandy beach.
After playing in the water and sand for a while, the little girl told her mom that she needed to use the bathroom. She told her mom that she knew where it was and that she would come right back.
On the way to the restroom, the little girl noticed a big chain-linked fence that had a big sign on it with a picture. It was a picture of a black skull and cross bones with a red circle with a line through it covering the images. On the other side of the fence was a beautiful green pond. She had never seen water so green and it was covered with green stuff which looked like clovers.
“Aren’t four leave clovers lucky?” she thought to herself. “I am going to climb that fence, swim around in that stuff and cover myself from head to toe with that green goop.”
Once over the fence and immersing herself in the slimy liquid, she covered herself from head to toe with the green stuff. She grabbed handfuls of the matter and stuffed it into her bathing suit. “Wow! This is fun!” she thought. “I am now the luckiest girl in the whole world!”
Then suddenly, with a smile growing on her little face…she had an awesome plan!
Meanwhile, at the beach, the little girl’s mother noticed that her daughter had been gone for much too long, got worried, left the beach and started frantically looking for her. Her fear mounted and grew each minute as everywhere she looked, her daughter just couldn’t be found. No one had seen her anywhere.
Suddenly, she heard a scream as she saw her little girl land on the ground in front of the fence of the contaminated pond. The girl got up screaming and made an unusual, creepy sound that touched the deepest part of the mother’s heart. As the mother yelled the girl’s name, the little child seemingly ignored her mom’s calls and started running as fast as she could to the hotel’s eating area.
At the café, things were really starting to look very promising for the father. The discussions with the business executive had gone very well and with excitement and expectations growing, his anticipation of finally landing the big job was beyond belief.
All of a sudden, from behind him, he heard his wife calling his little girl’s name in a frightened voice and his daughter’s terrifying screams and growls approaching him. The look on the executive’s face was that of horror and unbelief as he watched the rapidly approaching creature come up to the father from behind.
Stunned and turning around in his chair the green creature instantly attacked the father, gave him a bone-crushing hug, instantly splattering the green slime all over the executive’s Taylor-made suit. The little gremlin started covering him with kisses, and said over and over again, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” “I AM THE LOVE MONSTER!”
The infuriated business executive snarled at the little girl “Alright! That’s enough! Your time is over!” Then he barked at the dad, “tell your daughter that her time is over and to leave us alone!!!”
With all of the love and compassion that a father could ever have in his heart, he smiled down at his dear little Love Monster, scooped her up in his arms, then said to the executive…I am sorry sir, but YOUR TIME IS OVER.
And with that, while carrying his beautiful little daughter, took his wife’s hand, and walked away…the happiest man in the world.
What are your priorities? What are the important things to you? What are the “things” that make you REALLY happy? The choice is yours!
A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away. As he got out of his car he noticed
a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing. He asked her what was wrong and she replied, “I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars.”
The man smiled and said, “Come on in with me. I’ll buy you a rose.” He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother’s flowers. As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home. She said, “Yes, please! You can take me to my mother.” She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.
The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother’s house.
Life is Short. Spend much time as you can loving and caring people who love you. Enjoy each moment with them before it’s too late. There is nothing important than family.
I love reading or hearing about things that children write, say or do. The things that they say are usually always so innocent and truthful. To me, these things are are just so heartwarming and entertaining because of the pure honesty in their thought and intentions.Little children can come up with some very interesting ideas. Listen to what some children wrote to their mothers for Mother’s Day.
Angie, 8 years old, wrote: “Dear Mother, I’m going to make dinner for you on Mother’s Day. It’s going to be a surprise. P.S. I hope you like pizza & popcorn.”
Robert wrote: “I got you a turtle for Mother’s Day. I hope you like the turtle better than the snake I got you last year.”
Eileen wrote: “Dear Mother, I wish Mother’s Day wasn’t always on Sunday. It would be better if it were on Monday so we wouldn’t have to go to school.”
Little Diane wrote: “I hope you like the flowers I got you for Mother’s Day. I picked them myself when Mr. Smith wasn’t looking.”
And how about this one from Carol? “Dear Mother, Here are two aspirins. Have a happy Mother’s Day!”
I decided, for Mother’s Day this year, that I would share some interesting and fascinating information with you. I found the following facts on a great site: “Mother’s Day Celebration”. I found that a lot of the things that I read, I never knew before. They were not only enjoyable to read but also very pleasant to learn. I hope that you find the following stories and records as much fun as I did!
World Records Regarding Mothers
The youngest mother whose history is authenticated is Lina Medina, who delivered a 6½-pound boy by cesarean section in Lima, Peru in 1939, at an age of 5 years and 7 months. The child was raised as her brother and only discovered that Lina was his mother when he was 10.
On April 9, 2003, Satyabhama Mahapatra, a 65-year-old retired schoolteacher in India, became the world’s oldest mother when she gave birth to a baby boy. Satyabhama and her husband had been married 50 years, but this is their first child. The baby was conceived through artificial insemination using eggs from the woman’s 26-year-old niece, Veenarani Mahapatra, and the sperm of Veenarani’s husband.
Most Surviving Children
Bobbie McCaughey is the mother who holds the record for the most surviving children from a single birth. She gave birth to the first set of surviving septuplets – four boys and three girls -on November 19, 1997, at the University Hospital, Iowa, US. Conceived by in vitro fertilization, the babies were delivered after 31 weeks by cesarean in the space of 16 minutes. The babies are named Kenneth, Nathaniel, Brandon, Joel, Kelsey, Natalie and Alexis.
Shortest Interval Between Two Children
Jayne Bleackley is the mother who holds the record for the shortest interval between two children born in separate confinements. She gave birth to Joseph Robert on September 3, 1999, and Annie Jessica Joyce on March 30, 2000. The babies were born 208 days apart.
Longest Interval Between Two Children
Elizabeth Ann Buttle is the mother who holds the record for the longest interval between the birth of two children. She gave birth to Belinda on May 19,1956 and Joseph on November 20, 1997. The babies were born 41 years 185 days apart. The mother was 60 years old when her son Joseph was born.
Highest Recorded Number of Children
The highest officially recorded number of children born to one mother is 69, to the first wife of Feodor Vassilyev (1707-1782) of Shuya, Russia. Between 1725 and 1765, in a total of 27 confinements, she gave birth to 16 pairs of twins, seven sets of triplets, and four sets of quadruplets. 67 of them survived infancy.
Highest Number of Children in Modern Times
The modern world record for giving birth is held by Leontina Albina from San Antonio, Chile. Leontina claims to be the mother of64 children, of which only 55 of them are documented. She is listed in the 1999 Guinness World Records but dropped from later editions.
On Women and Motherhood
24.8 is the median age of women when they give birth for the first time – meaning one-half are above this age and one-half are below. The median age has risen nearly three years since 1970.
A woman becomes pregnant most easily at the age of eighteen or nineteen, with little real change until the mid twenties. There is then a slow decline to age thirty-five, a sharper decline to age forty-five and a very rapid decline as the women nears menopause.
The odds of a woman delivering twins are 1-in-33. Her odds of having triplets or other multiple births were approximately 1-in-539.
When the female embryo is only six weeks old, it makes preparations for her motherhood by developing egg cells for future offspring. (When the baby girl is born, each of her ovaries carries about a million egg cells, all that she will ever have).
August is the most popular month in which to have a baby, with more than 360,000 births taking place that month in 2001.
Tuesday is the most popular day of the week in which to have a baby, with an average of more than 12,000 births taking place on Tuesdays during 2001.
Strange But True about Celebrity Moms and Kids
Katherine Hepburn’s father was a surgeon and her mother was a dedicated suffragette and early crusader for birth control.
Elvis Presley, was a mama’s boy. He slept in the same bed with his mother, Gladys, until he reached puberty. Up until Elvis entered high school, she walked him back and forth to school every day and made him take along his own silverware so that he wouldn’t catch germs from the other kids. Gladys forbade young Elvis from going swimming or doing anything that might put him in danger. The two of them also conversed in a strange baby talk that only they could understand.
Many of the sweaters worn by Mr. Rogers on the popular television show, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, were actually knitted by his real mother.
Eric Clapton was born to an unwed mother and to shield him from the shame, Eric grew up believing that his grandparents were his parents and his mother was his sister.
I read the following short story a little while ago that reminded me of my days of childhood. I am sure that for some of you, it will conjure up similar emotions. Sometimes I think that if parents disciplined their children more like they did “in the days of old” our country would be a lot different than it is now.
The other day, someone at a store in our town read a newspaper story that a Methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question, “Why didn’t we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?”
I replied that I did have a drug problem when I was younger: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter what the weather was like.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, bought home a bad report card, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was drug outside to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and told to pick out the cockleburs out of dad’s fields. I was drug to the homes of families, friends and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood, and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they still affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think today. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin: and if today’s children had THIS kind of drug problem, America would be a better place today.
There are some times in our everyday lives that we become so busy with things like work or our careers, that we can quite often spend less time with the things that are really important. Today’s story gives us a great illustration of this life principle.
SON: “Daddy, may I ask you a question?”
DAD: “Yeah sure, what is it?”
SON: “Daddy, how much do you make an hour?”
DAD: “That’s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?”
SON: “I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?”
DAD: “If you must know, I make $100 an hour.”
SON: “Oh! (With his head down).
SON: “Daddy, may I please borrow $50?”
The father was furious.
DAD: “If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard every day for such this childish behavior.”
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy’s questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?
After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think:
Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $ 50 and he really didn’t ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy’s room and opened the door.
DAD: “Are you asleep, son?”
SON: “No daddy, I’m awake”.
DAD: “I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier. It’s been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here’s the $50 you asked for.”
The little boy sat straight up, smiling.
SON: “Oh, thank you daddy!”
Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.
DAD: “Why do you want more money if you already have some?”
SON: “Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do.
“Daddy, I have $100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.”
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness. It’s just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $100 worth of your time with someone you love? If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family and friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family.
Some things in life are more important than others….
I came across this story from “Soup from the Mother’s Soul 2” that is just simply a very beautiful story!
There is nothing that can truly prepare you to lose your own child. Looking back, I’ve often thought the doctors should have written a death certificate for me as well as my son, for when he died, a part of me died too.
Andy was almost twelve. For over three years he had been battling cancer. He’d gone through radiation and chemotherapy; he’d gone into remission and out again, not once but several times. I was amazed at his resilience; he just kept getting up each time his cancer knocked him flat. Perhaps it was his pluckiness and grit that shaped my own attitude about Andy’s future, or maybe I was simply afraid to face the possibility of his death; whatever the cause I always thought that Andy would make it. He would be the kid that beat the odds.
For three summers, Andy had gone to a camp for kids with cancer. He loved it and seemed to relish the week he could forget about hospitals and sickness and just be a kid again. The day after he returned from his third camp adventure, we went to the clinic for a routine check-up. The news was bad. The doctor scheduled a bone marrow transplant for two days later in a hospital 300 miles away from our home. The next day we threw our things in a suitcase and left.
One of the things I tossed into my suitcase was the present Andy had brought home from camp for me. A plastic sun catcher shaped like a rainbow with a suction cup to attach it to a window. Like most mothers, I considered any present from my child a treasure and wanted it with me.
We arrived at the hospital and began the grueling ordeal the doctors felt was my son’s only chance. We spent seven weeks there. They turned out to be the last seven weeks of Andy’s life.
We never talked about dying…except once. Andy was worn out and must have known he was losing ground. He tried to clue me in. Nauseous and weak after one of the many difficult procedures he endured on a regular basis, he turned to me and asked, “Does it hurt to die?”
I was shocked, but answered truthfully, “I don’t know. But I don’t want to talk about death, because you are not going to die, Andy.”
He took my hand and said, “Not yet, but I’m getting very tired.”
I knew then what he was telling me, but tried hard to ignore it and keep the awful thought from entering my mind.
I spent a lot of my day watching Andy sleep. Sometimes I went to the gift shop to buy cards and notepaper. I had very little money, barely enough to survive. The nurses knew our situation and turned a blind eye when I slept in Andy’s room and ate the extra food we ordered off of Andy’s tray. But I always managed to scrape a bit together for the paper and cards because Andy loved getting mail so much.
The bone marrow transplant was a terrible ordeal. Andy couldn’t have any visitors because his immune system was so compromised. I could tell that he felt even more isolated than ever. Determined to do something to make it easier for him, I began approaching total strangers in the waiting rooms and asking them, “Would you write my son a card?” I’d explain his situation and offer them a card or some paper to write on. With surprised expressions on their faces, they did it. No one refused me. They took one look at me and saw a mother in pain.
It amazed me that these kind people, who were dealing with their own worries, made the time to write Andy. Some would just sign a card with a little get-well message. Others wrote real letters: “Hi, I’m from Idaho visiting my grandmother here in the hospital…” and they’d fill a page or two with their story, sometimes inviting Andy to visit wherever they were from when he was better. Once a woman flagged me down and said, “You asked me to write your son a couple of weeks ago. Can I write him again?” I mailed all these letters to Andy, and watched happily as he read them. Andy had a steady stream of mail right up until the day he died.
One day, I went to the gift store to buy more cards and saw a rainbow prism for sale. Remembering the rainbow sun catcher Andy’d given me, I felt I had to buy it for him. It was a lot of money to spend, but I handed over the cash and hurried back to Andy’s room to show him.
He was lying in his bed, too weak to even raise his head. The blinds were almost shut, but a crack of sunlight poured in slanting across the bed. I put the prism in his hand and said, “Andy, make me a rainbow.” But Andy couldn’t. He tried to hold his arm up, but it was too much for him.
He turned his face to me and said, “Mom, as soon as I’m better, I’ll make you a rainbow you’ll never forget.”
That was the one of the last things Andy said to me. Just a few hours later, he went to sleep and during the night, slipped into a coma. I stayed with him in the ICU, massaging him, talking to him, reading him his mail, but he never stirred. The only sound was the constant drone and beepings of the life-support machines surrounding his bed. I was looking death straight in the face, but still I thought there’d be a last-minute save, a miracle that would bring my son back to me.
After five days, the doctors told me his brain had stopped functioning and that he’d never be “Andy” again. It was time to disconnect him from the machines that were keeping his body alive.
I asked if I could hold him, so just after dawn, they brought a rocking chair into the room and after I settled myself in the chair, they turned off the machines and lifted him from the bed to place him in my arms. As they raised him from the bed, his leg made an involuntary movement and he knocked a clear plastic pitcher from his bedside table onto the bed.
“Open the blinds,” I cried. “I want this room to be full of sunlight!” The nurse hurried to the window to pull the cord.
As she did so, I noticed a sun catcher, in the shape of the rainbow attached to the window, left no doubt, by a previous occupant of this room. I caught my breath in wonder. And then as the sunlight filled the room, the rays hit the pitcher lying on its side on the bed and everyone stopped what they were doing, silent with awe.
The room was suddenly filled with flashes of color, dozens and dozens of rainbows, on the walls, the floors, the ceiling, on the blanket wrapped around Andy as he lay in my arms — the room was alive with rainbows.
No one could speak. I looked down at my son and he had stopped breathing. Andy was gone, but even in the shock of that first wave of grief, I felt comforted. Andy had made the rainbow that he promised me — the one I would never forget.
After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.”
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally
. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked.
My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, “she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation – nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each others life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.
“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.
A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.”
At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.”
The following letter was written by a mother to her daughter. Simply put…it is beautiful reminder of a mother / daughter (or son) relationship.
“My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.
When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?
When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day… the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.
And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.
When those days come, don’t feel sad… just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.
I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you… my darling daughter.”
It was a week before Christmas and my dearly beloved mother was in a coma. She was dying of cancer and had been unconscious since early that afternoon. It was the third night in a row that my wife and I had made our two hour trip to come to my mother’s house to say ”goodbye” to her.
The hospice doctor had told me three days earlier that he believed that mom would pass away at any time and that we should visit her to be with her when she passed. So, for those three nights, we would make our trip to be with her and wait for the dreaded moment to come.
Leaving her house each night was very heart wrenching because I was never sure if it would be the last time that I would see her alive. I had always made it a point to tell her that I loved her each time I left her, so that I could always say, that that would be the last thing I told her on this earth if she passed away.
Like I said earlier, it was the third and last night we were with her and she was just in a deep, deep sleep. It was such a strange and surreal feeling, standing their watching my mom take in very slow breathes with her oxygen mask on her face. All of her hair was gone and she was just a shell of the beautiful and delightful woman that was my mother.
As the night wore on and the time got later and later, I grew more and more saddened by the fact that we would have to leave to return home. Finally, around midnight, we decided that it was time to go home. We had to be home for our two little boys in the morning.
I remember thinking that I wanted to SAY goodbye to my mom just one more time but I knew that I could but she would never hear it. So, with a heavy heart, I leaned over my mom, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and said, “I love you mom.” Then I whispered to her, in almost a prayer-type request, “come on mom…wake up one more time. Please? Just once more?” But my request fell upon deaf ears and she never woke up. My wife then sat on the side of her bed, held hand ever so gently and began to say her goodbyes.
Suddenly, my mother opened her eyes, took off her air mask and said, with a voice as clear as could be, “what is everyone doing here? I am fine! I have just been sleeping. I am going to be fine.” It was simply fascinating experience. Here was my mother who had talked, just the day before, with a weak, raspy voice that was caused by constantly having the mask on and inhaling the oxygen 24 hours a day, and now she was totally awake and not only sounded like she was totally healthy but acted like it as well.
I stood there mesmerized and the sudden turn of events but I was also so very thankful…I could now SAY goodbye to my mother and share my feelings and last thoughts with her! After telling her the things that I wanted to tell her, giving her one last kiss goodbye and telling her how much I loved her and for being such a terrific mom, we got ready to leave. I felt truly blessed and thankful that my “whispered prayer” was answered. My heart was filled with joy knowing that God had given us a Christmas miracle…my mom.
Soon after we left, she went back to sleep and never woke up again. Later the next day, surrounded by friends along with her childhood best friend, she quietly passed on from this world and touched the face of God.