The Gift of Peace
Dignity, protection and compassion for people we love
In my Mom’s waning years, I noticed she tended to be very fearful (something I’ve seen in other older people) but it intensified towards the end of her life. She was always asking me if she was OK, if everything was OK.…is everything all right. My stock answer was yes, everything was fine. I was a little perplexed by her fear because she was a devout Catholic, and usually, people of deep faith arrive at a point where they are ready for the next chapter. Not so with my Mom. She avoided the subject of dying like the plague and I didn’t force it. My husband and I even set up a little still life of her favorite religious items on her eating tray table to reassure her as she ate. Not sure it helped, but we felt better.
Coming to terms…kinda
Then one weekend when I took over caregiver duties, she told me that she thought she was going to die soon. Now, at this point, she had been bedridden for probably close to a year and a half. She had already been “visited” by a slew of deceased relatives, which is usually a foretelling the end is near, so truth be told we all thought she was going to be leaving this earth soon. I was actually relieved she was finally saying it out loud, so we could discuss it, and alleviate her fears.
I smiled and said something like, “yes, probably so…” and told her how beautiful heaven would be and that Mother Mary would welcome her in. It was going to be wonderful! She loved Mary and was very devoted to her since becoming a Catholic in the 1950s, so I thought that would be a great source of comfort for her. I held her hand, she looked at me a little unsure, but I kept smiling and nodding my head in hopes of convincing her. She managed a half smile in return and then went back to watching Guy Fieri on the Food Network.
Solace and comfort
It was a small moment but I was so happy that she had finally gotten to it and that I was there for her. Since she had dementia, I wasn’t sure how much sunk in, but it was my experience that these moments of lucidity were portals into the soul. I’ve often thought how awful it would have been had I not been there to tell her it was all going to be fine, and not to worry. To remind her of what she loved so much but fear had obscured—God, Mary, and her faith. To give her the comfort and consolation she deserved at that point in her life.
She didn’t bring up death again, but she also stopped asking me if she was OK. I think she knew she was. That fleeting moment of solace was worth all the difficult times of having her in our home and taking care of her for 13 years. As I’ve had slightly over two years since my mom’s death to reflect on the time with her, I now feel so blessed to have given her the gift of a peaceful end of life. She was in a cozy room with soft, dusty mauve walls, lovely antique furniture, no glaring overhead lights, and her own TV that was her constant companion and source of comfort. We made sure her “Teddy” teddy bear (whom she often talked to) was next to her pillow and her beloved bas relief of Mother Mary was on the wall beside her.
Everyone deserves a peaceful end, especially our own parents. This is the greatest gift we can give them.