I layed in waiting with dreadful anticipation of the one year anniversary date of Mom's death, December 4th. The date was etched in my mind forever. I could recite it as quickly as I could one of the kids birthdays. December 4th, 2008. I knew it would be a very emotional day, probably much more than others. It would be a Friday this year. I did not plan for a whole lot that day, not knowing exactly how I might feel. I did not know exactly what to expect, but our grief class reminds us to "embrace those days." For us to take it over, so it does not take us over. So, I was doing just that, just like the class taught. I'm a good student, I always do my homework. So, I was as prepared as I was going to be, ready to face the day.
Little to my surprise, was I caught totally off guard and totally unprepared for my Friday December 4th, to occur on Thursday, December 3rd! The girls were at school,and Patrick at work. it was about 10:00 am and Caleb and I were in the living room playing with his cars, when all of a sudden it hit me. She died at 2:22 in the morning, just less than two and a half hours after midnight. I am definately not a morning person, and rarely ever even see the clock before 6:00 am, so to a night owl, two a.m. is much more in the late night of the 3rd than the early morning of the 4th. So, to me, THIS was the day. It was not Friday at all, but Thursday! And Thurday is not the day I had prepared for!
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Wow. This was the day, the one year anniversary date of Mom's death, the 3rd. Her last day with us. And oh how I remembered it so clearly. I instantly started replaying her final day in my mind, hour by hour, moment by moment. I remembered having spent the night there the night before. The night had gone ok, but Mom had woke up a couple times not doing as well. I was to leave in the morning to return home to the kids so Patrick could go to work. As Joy and I were switching shifts, Mom still seemed to not be doing as well as previous days that week. I went on home as planned, knowing Mom was in good hands with Joy and Dad there together. But as I drove home early that morning, as I had done numerous times before, there was something different about this time. I felt a different feeling. By the time I arrived home, I only stayed long enough to tell Patrick that something was just not right this time and I had to go back. And that I did.
I am thankful for that feeling that day, the gut, the intuition or whatever you might call it. But to me, I know it was God, telling me to get back to my mother, that it would be my last day with her. I knew it was coming, but maybe did not want to admit just how quickly it was. Just twelve hours later, we had the pastor there, praying by her bedside, as we told her that we were all there and would be by her side every step of the way. We would hold her hand until Jesus took it. And only 4 more hours later, He did just that.
I can still remember it so clearly. I can close my eyes and feel as if I am right there again. As I continue to cry as I have most of the day, I remember one year ago from today. One year ago from right now. TODAY was the day. My Friday was Thursday.