A year ago today I lost my "mama" at 90. She had a good life and a good death. Three days before she passed she entered the hospital and mentally and physically slipped away. She thought she was in the hospital to have a baby, specifically, the baby boy she lost when he was a week old. She asked over and over again "Where is my baby? Why won't they let me see my baby?, etc. She became very distraught about it and several times tried to climb out of bed. When my husband called me I told him what was going on. When he arrived at the library he brought a baby boy doll. My mom's nurse wrapped the baby doll in a toll and delivered it to my mom "Here's you baby boy. He is beautiful!" The peace visibly washed over my mom. She held him and beamed. The nurse and family in the room all cried. She was never anxious, never tried to get out of bed after that. We think it was what she needed to take the next step. Later the Chaplin came to her room with a baby blanket as she had heard "something very special had taken place and wanted to see for herself" It has taken me some time to get to the point I can post the story of her passing.
Unfortunately, my mother wanted to know if her son/my brother who was estranged for 27 years was in the room. I told her I did not know where he was. She told me to tell him that she loved him, and I promised I would. She then fell into a peaceful sleep. She passed in June, and in early December, I sent my brother a card telling him that mom wanted me to tell you that she loved you. Have not heard anything from him. My husband treated her more like a mother than her own son.
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