Saying Goodbye:

It’s been over a month since my mom died. I haven’t written a column or blogged about her death. I think part of me does not want to have to remember that it really happened and that maybe it was just a bad dream. The tons of sympathy cards that still hang on my door reminding me that my dear mommy is gone. I attended a funeral today of another pillar of Bowie, Mr. Paul Palumbo, whose wonderful family will continue his love for God, family, Bowie, a good work ethic, and baseball. Hopefully his legacy and good example will live on in our community.
I recently found my notes from one very special night when I was with my mom waiting for her to pass into a better place.

I’m sitting here with my other seven living siblings in an all night vigil for my momma…Betsy and Steve each have one of moms hands with whispers that they love her and its ok to go. Tommy’s playing the guitar singing to his oldest and dearest sweetheart. Pete is singing with him, while Michael moans in sheer delight at their serenade. Shari and Joan lay on the couches close by, exhausted after yesterday’s rough time trying to make their hero and best friend comfortable. I sit by the fire thinking that this is what it’s all about…family. We have been sitting at moms house all day taking turns holding her hand, rubbing her back, cheering her on to Daddy who has been waiting for her for ten years, mom’s thoughts of longing for her sweet daughter Nanette, who left us way to early at the age of 39, who has been gone for 20 years, and the pain stings like it was yesterday.

All differences are put aside as we cuddle, hug, rub backs, and eat comfort food and coffee. It’s almost one in the morning and the vigil gets giddy as stories of fun, pain, and shenanigans are shared. More than once have we rushed to mom’s bedside to hold each other and prepare for her last breathe. This truly amazing women gasp for yet another and holds on for what seems like forever as she labors with each sigh. Every once and awhile we will get a smile, a finger tapping or an answer to the many questions that we eight children pour out to this poor soul like a toddler looking for a cookie. We all have hope that something we say will help her let go and fall into the hands of the God she taught us to trust.

Read the rest here.

THY WILL BE DONE!!! +JMJ+