What a wierd day ...
One that you are never prepared for,
one you would never dream of,
One though where you know deep peace.
The bizarreness of the phonecall,
The pondering what exactly was coming,
The sense of what can happen in a brief time,
where you are having coffee and your phone is in your bag.
8 missed calls,
two urgent messages from my dad,
a phone call from the police,
a drive two suburbs; still unknown.
The walk to the house,
the being told that she had died,
the walking in and her body being on the floor,
And deeply embracing my dad.
And the pondering of how,
And the pondering of when,
Still surreal but oh so real,
My mum is dead.
The police, the coroner,
Questions about her medical history,
And then she's gone, their gone,
It's dad and me.
The reality sinks in (at some level anyway)
The phone calls begin,
The next week begins,
The rest of life begins.
I am sad,
I know the journey will be hard and long,
But I'm also relieved for her,
That her struggle is over.
I'm grateful, for the peace I have,
for the friends I have,
for the special time alone with her
The chance to say goodbye.
More phone calls,
All sorts of emotions,
Are what await me on this day.
But she is at peace,
Shalom she has never known,
Healing and wholeness is now,
Hers in abundance.
I feel so blessed,
surrounded by many,
Cared for and held in so many ways,
From Melbourne to Sydney to Canada.
Deep peace I know.
(On Tuesday 17th July 2007 I discovered that my mum was dead)