I have a lot of new feelings about death, things I never thought before. For example, I now believe that death takes an act of bravery and courage. As my mom lay in a coma, I spoke to her on the telephone, telling her it was okay to let go, that we were with her and that we loved her and that it would be okay. I got the sense of what a difficult ordeal it is to die and to let go as you are letting go of all you have ever known, who you have been forever and ever and all those years filled with your history. My mom’s childhood, her adolescence, her relationships with lovers, husbands, her children and grandchildren, and all her mistakes and accomplishments and regrets about things she wished she could have done. It’s a lot to let go of and it must be very hard. I think this is why we automatically tell those who are dying that it’s okay to let go, that we want to help them on their journey.
I feel proud of my mother for dying. I see it as an accomplishment and I am her cheerleader in death. She had lost her ability to think and remember who we were, losing her health and falling headlong into a place where it must have been so confusing for her. I believe she wanted to die and was waiting to die.