Audience: Philip and Nathan (my children)
Purpose: To show them how precious life is, and never take it for granted.

My Mother’s Eyes

All of us have moments that happen to us. Some moments we want to forget, others remain seared in our minds and hearts forever. Such was a time for me 17 years ago. I was seven months pregnant with my second child. My mother was lying in Fort Sanders Hospital in a coma. She was diagnosed five years earlier with Multiple Myloma, a bone cancer. She fought hard against the disease, but in the end her body was failing her. This was the first time I had spent the night with her since she slipped into her final stage. I had been with her daily, but spending the night was difficult due to my condition. I knew I had to stay because I needed time with her alone, to tell her things and to say goodbye. Such as, the baby, and the family will stick together after she is gone. Most of all I felt like she needed me to give her permission to stop fighting. There I was beside my mother’s bed, sitting on her left holding her hand with my right hand, and my left hand was laying on my belly. We were finally alone. I could feel my baby moving and kicking. Then, the thought struck me here I am holding the hand of death and feeling life at the same time. What a bittersweet moment. “Mom”, I began, “I know you said you didn’t want to know the sex of the baby before the birth, but I’m going to tell you. I’m having a boy; his name will be James Nathaniel Payne. Nathaniel means a gift from God, and that is exactly what he will be. I’m considered a high-risk pregnancy, but everything will be fine, I feel sure of that. My first Ultra Sound showed some abnormal readings, so my doctor sent me to UT to continue my tests. They’ve been keeping a close eye on Nathan and he is developing normally. I didn’t tell you this earlier because I knew you would worry. Most of all I knew you would try to hang on longer. Mom it’s time to let go, I will be fine, Nathan will be healthy. We all will be o.k., I promise. You have done a great job with us.” The tears flowed freely. “I will do my best to keep the family connected.” Mom was a single parent of five children. She was all we knew; we didn’t have contact with our father while growing-up. She was the one who always picked us up when we would fall. It was her that would break-up the fusses and sometimes fights. She was the one who would laugh at our jokes or sympathize with our woes. She was the core of our family. She shared with me early into her illness that she was worried that we would drift apart. So, I reassure her that I would try to prevent that. “Mom, you have fought so hard for so long. It’s time to let go now, time to go home (home meaning heaven). I know if it were possible you would stay till my Nathan is born, but don’t. I know you’re worried about the grandchildren, but they will be fine, Richard and Philip will take good care of them. Mom, we’re all grown now with families. The baton has been passed; it’s up to us to finish the race. You will be missed no doubt, but I want you to be free from pain.” More tears flow as I felt Nathan kicking. The room is quiet as a dark cloudy night, except for Mom’s oxygen humming, and the constant beeps of her monitors. I reach over and stroke Mom’s soft short brown hair. Oh, how I will miss her, not only is she my mom, but she is my best friend, cheerleader, encourager and even my strength at times. I reach for my Bible and turn to her favorite passage, John chapter 14; “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go there to prepare a place for you.” I continued reading the rest of the chapter aloud to her. The nurses would come in often to check on Mom. They were so sweet in showing their concern for me as well. Making sure I had something to drink or did I need another pillow or blanket. I never laid down that night. I held Mom’s hand and stroked her hair. I knew this was good-bye forever. I dozed off and on in the chair, but I never left her side. About a week later, I was by her bed again. This time her sister and children are there. Mom’s organs are shutting down and her blood pressure has dropped. All is silent except for beeps. *Beep, beep, beep, one final breath and then a very long beep. She is gone. Her battle is over. That night I sat holding the hand of death and felt life inside of me. I believe a miraculous thing happened, which I realized several months later. Nathan was crawling and took off for the stairs. I called for him to stop and he looked back at me and grinned but it wasn’t Nathan’s eyes I saw; it was my Mother’s twinkling eyes.