My Mom’s Last 10 Weeks
What she taught me about living and dying
This poignant story (below), written by Barbara Jennejohn, about her beloved mother's last days is heartbreakingly truthful. Thank you, guest writer Barbara Jennejohn, for sharing such an intimate part of your life with the rest of us. -Gloria Lesher
My mom often told me that we were made of the “same fabric.” We knew what the other was thinking and feeling before it was ever said. When I felt pain, she felt it too. And vice versa. She was my beacon in life whenever a storm rolled in.
When I moved 1,000 miles away at 21 years old, it was clear to me that no distance could separate us. Mom didn’t call often, but I remember one evening in particular. At the end of our conversation, I thanked her and confided that I had been a bit depressed. She replied, “I know, that’s why I called.” She was my soulmate.
Mom was the kindest, most compassionate, and strongest person I have ever known. I learned kindness and compassion just by being around her. Most every day, I felt her strength to the point that it became part of me.
Several years before Mom died, I enrolled in a class on death and dying. I’m not really sure why except that I had never been with someone who was dying and I wanted to be prepared for that day. Around the time I was taking the class, I was fortunate to attend a speech by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, a pioneer in near-death studies who developed the paradigm of five stages of grief. I read a number of books about death and dying, including hers, and was especially interested in near death experiences (NDEs). I believed that a person’s soul lived on after death and I still do to this day, which leads to this story…