I Lost My Mom

I lost my mother in June of 2011. My Dad, brothers, and I were with her when she passed. As we were spending our last hours with her, we would hold her hand, stroke her head, and place our hands on her arms. Before she lost consciousness, her pastor came to see her. He placed his hand on her, and spoke to her. The hospice nurse told us after he left that after she "shut it down". He brought spiritual comfort, but his touch brought her some physical comfort.

When she was in her last hours, she wasn't conscious, but our studies have told us that touch is the last thing we lose as we are dying. That thought gives me a lot of comfort. I know it made me feel better to touch her in her last hours. I miss that touch. She would hold me in her lap when I was young, and comfort me with hugs when I got too big, and old, to hold. She wasn't very demonstrative, but she brought such comfort to me, and my brothers, when we needed it the most. My mom, and dad, would kiss each other when they said hello, and before my Dad would leave for work.

I hope, as she was leaving this earth, she could feel us touch her one more time. When we said our final goodbye at her funeral, I touched her one more time. I knew she couldn't feel that touch, but that simple gesture brought me great comfort.