This could have been about final moments between a son and his mother.
For Mom is fragile now, and 800 miles from Kansas, across the eastern plains to Ohio.
Or it could have been about death.
For I’m the only male left in Mom’s and Dad’s family. Dad and my three younger brothers are gone.
It could certainly have been about processing grief.
For I’ve grieved most of my life. First for Dad who fought cancer for 27 years. Then for my brothers. And now, I find myself bracing for the inevitable loss.
Here’s the Q
Where do words come? I don’t mean words like “buzz,” and “was,” and “Uncle Henry’s moustache is a lip full of fuzz.” I had to think about those words.
But I’m talking about words we didn’t know we had in us. Words so warm they melt the eyes and leave listeners choked and sobbing through hands held tight over their mouths.
Maybe your words didn’t erupt like mine. But you know what I mean. Haven’t we all, at one time or another, said something and thought, “Where on earth did that come from?”
Mom is frail now
I can’t forget the words I exchanged with Mom a few nights ago.
We had such a good visit. We had talked. I read to her from the Casual English Bible I’ve been paraphrasing. And we sang—more sour notes than a bag full of lemon drops.
But when it was time to say goodbye, Mom stood and turned her face to me. I stepped toward her. It’s strange, but I saw loss and grief in her blind eyes. Strokes had robbed her eyesight, stolen her concentration, and was peeling away her layers of memory. But in this moment she knew me. And it felt as though all the stunning sadness in her face was for me.
I regret she couldn’t see the sadness in my face for her.
Final moments & words spoken
We don’t know that these are our final moments together here. But the awareness of that possibility supercharges all emotion.
There we were, in the middle of Mom’s living room, surrounded by four others, a dog, and God. My mother, who is a couple years shy of 90, told me goodbye in a way she has never said it before.
“My heart goes with you.”
I gave no thought about what to say. Not a moment’s consideration. No weighing the options of keeping it real or stomping out the emotion with airy tones.
Thought did not engage.
I simply and instantly whispered into her ear,
“I take your heart with me. I leave my heart with you.”
I’ve never said anything that beautiful in my life. And I’ll probably never do better.
The lady standing closest to us slipped into sobbing. Her hands couldn’t stop the burst from inside.
God talk?
I don’t know where the words came from. What I do know is they didn’t come from me like the words I’m fighting with now, typing, deleting, and carefully reconsidering.
Who wants to share stuff like this? It’s too close.
I’ve often told God off. Chewed him out for being invisible and never having anything to say.
Now I may have to eat my words.
Jesus told his disciples not to worry about what to say in moments of crisis. He said:
“The Holy Spirit will give you the right words at the right time” (Luke 12:12, Casual English Bible).
I guess we could argue that my words were a natural response—a reflection and repetition of what my Mom said. I am a writer, after all. And my brain can pick up an idea like that and run with it.
On the other hand, I’m telling you that the two lines read like Hebrew poetry from Bible times. Hebrew poetry doesn’t rhyme, like some English poems do. Instead of repeating sounds, it repeats ideas. It uses parallelism.
If what I said had come from a prophet (I’m not a prophet, preacher, or king), it would appear in the Bible like this:
“I take your heart with me.
I leave my heart with you.”
Here’s the confession. I don’t know if the words came from some one-time flashing spark inside my head or if they came from God’s Spirit.
If it’s all in my head, I’m one lucky torso.
If it came from above, I’m one lucky soul.
In either case, above or below, I’m one lucky son.
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Steve, you bring me to tears with this deeply soulful blogs.
We are facing a very profound time of life, you and me.
I’ll never forget the opportunities I had to say goodbye to each of my parents. In fact, with Dad I had several opportunities, since there were several visits I thought were the last time I’d see him.
It never got any easier.
Right, on all accounts. But as I wrote you earlier, it’s a rough road in the best of company.
My prayers are with you Stephen. All my family is gone now except my Sister. I know how difficult it will be for you. Time goes by so quick – Mom buttons your jacket as a boy, goes to your high school graduation, and before you know it, you spend quality time when she is sick. I wasn’t prepared on mom’s birthday and Easter Sunday for her to pass into eternity the next day — it was a very quiet afternoon when a bagpiper came to my door and played “Amazing Grace” and the neighbors stood in a row. I miss her so much! May the love of Christ embrace you my friend!
Thank you, Wayne. You’ve been with me for a long time. We support each other along the journey, if even from a distance.
Your writing always pierces me…right to my soul. Thank you for sharing such personal snapshots of your life and heart. We need more beautiful stories like this one in the time in which we live.
Thank you for your kindness, Rosemary. Peace to you.