Go. Now

I am so grateful I listened to that inner knowing

Photo by Thomas Kinto on Unsplash

While cleaning the house one Saturday in March, we received a late-afternoon message. “If you want to say goodbye to our mom, come this weekend.”

We were shocked.

Only days before, we learned she had cancer. We thought there would be time. Instead, the message indicated she was at the end of life.

We stared at each other for a bit, stunned, before wandering off to continue our chores while we internally processed the news.

The Decision

For me, there wasn’t really a question about whether we would go. We would.

These are friendships of more than 40 years. I met this brother and sister when I was 14 years old. Coincidentally, my husband met them the year before, when he was 14. Weirdly, my husband and I met in a High School in another city. We didn’t start dating until many years later, when we met at a party and learned we had mutual friends.

Their mother also became part of our lives. While we aren’t as close as we once were, they are all still incredibly important to us. We have all been involved in each other’s lives during the good and the bad times for decades. They are family. We would be there for them.

After a bit, my husband, looking very pale, said, “I think we should go.” I said, “Of course.”

Thinking we would leave in the morning, we continued our chores. Over the next little while, I felt this insistent push to go. Now.

Finally, I said, “I think we need to go tonight.” He agreed.

The decision to go was easy. How to make that happen was the challenge. We live about 900 miles from them, and we have a houseful of animals that need care.

Preparation

While he called his boss, I contacted previous sitters, but none were free. I created a new listing on TrustedHousesitters, hoping against hope that someone would happen to be looking for a house sit at this exact moment.

We got the car loaded, and we were ready to go. I felt a strong urgency to leave. We needed to get on the road, but still had no pet sitter secured.

Our lovely neighbor, hearing the desperation in our voices, agreed without hesitation to take care of our beloved pets. We could now leave knowing that our Great Dane, Standard Poodle, and two cats would be well-loved and cared for.

It is a long trip from Tennessee to Minnesota in the United States under normal circumstances. After a full day of housecleaning, packing, and anticipatory grief, the drive is painful.

Community

We finally arrived at the house at 3 pm the following day. The place was packed with family and friends. We were quickly enveloped into the room and the love.

Mom, unconscious, lay in a daybed in the living room, her daughter by her side. Throughout the weekend, people took turns softly speaking to her, whispering in her ear. Sometimes, Mom seems aware of the love that surrounds her. That belief warms my heart and fills me with peace.

Placing my hand on her back, I leaned toward her ear. Speaking gently, I told her about the many people who come to express their love for her. I told her of my love and gave her my sister’s love, who was unable to be there.

Our friends had been awake for days and were clearly exhausted. My friend interacted with the doctors and with hospice while paying careful attention to her mother’s comfort. Her husband was an absolute rock. He supported his wife, made sure she had what she needed, monitored his mother-in-law’s medications, and kept a log of visits.

I stayed close to my friend and mom all afternoon and evening, offering support in any way needed. Most often, it was a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, and reassurance that they were taking good care of mom.

The love was palpable in that little house. More than 80 people came through the door that weekend to say goodbye to Mom. She had been mom to so many of her kids’ friends, and all wanted to express their gratitude to and for her. We shared stories, memories, laughter, and lots of tears.

Peace

The crowd thinned as we neared 10 pm. Encouraging the family to try to get a little rest, we prepared to leave. Turning to my husband, I said, “You need to say goodbye to mom; she is getting close.”

Fortunately, there was a hotel blocks from the house, so we didn’t need to travel far. We were tired from the driving and the day’s events. We didn’t want to have to drive anymore, and we wanted to be close to the family.

Early the next morning, we were woken by a phone call. Mom died. Would we come and help with the next steps? Of course.

We expected the call, but that didn’t make it any easier. The pace of the morning was much different than the day before. Relief that she is no longer in pain. Grief at the loss of a lovely woman. Her kids struggled to find direction now that their days were no longer filled with schedules for medication and caretaking responsibilities.

There is a surprising amount of paperwork and phone calls to be made after death. All while actively mourning the loved one. What an honor to support our friends during this difficult transition.

I am exceedingly thankful we listened to that inner voice telling us, Go. Now. If we had waited until morning, we would not have had the opportunity to say goodbye to someone important to us. We would not have been able to support them during this monumental loss.

I have not always listened to my intuition or the gentle inner voice. Most of the time, I regretted not heeding the voice. This time I listened, and I have no regrets.