Weird 9 Webring 

Please Vote for Weird 9!

View My Guestbook
Sign My Guestbook

My Mother's Deathbed Vision
My mother had been in and out of hospitals over the last year, near death at each admission. She was coherent and not delusional. She had congestive heart failure and lung and kidney cancer spread throughout her body. One morning in the hospital room, about 2 a.m. when all was quiet, my mother stared out the door of her room and into the hall that led to the nurse's station and the other patient's rooms. I said, "Momma, what do you see?" And she said, "Don't you see them? They walk the hall day and night. They are dead." She said this with quiet calmness. The revelation of this statement might send fear into some, but my mother and I had seen spiritual visions many years prior, so this statement was not a shock for me to hear, or for her to see. I, however, this time, I did not see them. This small conversation was not mentioned again.

Her surgeon said there was no point in treatment as the cancer had spread throughout her body. He said she might have six months to live, at the most; maybe three months. I brought her home to die. She passed four weeks later. The night of her (unexpected) passing, she was restless and anxious. Although my mother was a spiritual person, she had been in denial throughout her illness and declining health. She did not want to die, therefore she would not acknowledge the prognosis or her condition. She always talked as if she were going to get well and making plans of things to do in the coming Spring.

About 7:30 p.m. she asked to be carried out to the enclosed front porch. It was winter and cold. But, she insisted and by this time, I would not deny my mother any request. I wrapped her in blankets and made her as comfortable as possible. My mother was an invalid and could not support herself in anyway without help. A few minutes before 8 p.m. she said, "I have to go. They're here. They're waiting for me." Her face glowed and the color returned to her pale face as she attempted to raise herself and stand up. Her last words were, "I have to go. It is beautiful!" And she then passed at 8 p.m.

Several months later, the alarm of my alarm clock (set at 6 p.m.), which was broken and had no batteries in it, went off at 8 p.m. sharp. I could feel the presence of my mother and her amusement at achieving such a task and bringing it to my attention. A year and two months to the day of my mother's transformation, she appeared standing in my kitchen as whole, healthy and young. I was surprised, knowing she was dead, but so happy to see her. We embraced in a hug, and I said, "I love you." And then she was gone. She had come back to say a final good bye and letting me know in thought that she was happy and okay. I know my mother is finally home and at peace. - Moon Sister