Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1967867
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Biographical · #1967867
Hospital room prayers
It has been many years since the passing of my mother, but it still hurts.  She was my best friend, a loving mother, and a giving person. She had endless

energy and always time for her family, even though she worked outside of our home.  My mother never complained, nor was she ill with anything more

than a cold.  When my brother called me to come home, I knew something was wrong.  Since I lived out of town, I was not with her enough to notice the

changes in her health.  She was not the type to complain and thought she was super woman, so her illness was not found until it was too late to help her.

The doctor said it was cancer of the breast and had spread to other organs of her body.  This was in October of that year, and it didn't take long for her to

lose her battle with this disease.  My brother and I took turns staying with mom and he lived about three blocks from her house, so most of the care fell

on his shoulders.  I made the drive back and forth as much as I could, and the doctors sent home nurses to help us out when she wasn't in the

hospital.  The medical field had not advanced much back then, and they did all they could do for her.

The last night she was in the hospital, her pastor came to pray with her, and I'm glad I was there, too .

As he prayed, I prayed too, harder than I have ever prayed in my life.  I talked to God, not asking him to save her, but to take her if it was her time.

I didn't want to see her go, but I knew she didn't want to live this way.  I felt warm feelings rush over me when we stopped praying, and I had mixed

emotions about my praying.  I almost felt guilty asking God to take her home, and I was bothered by my actions.

When I left mom that night, I didn't know it would be my last night to see her alive.  The hospital called my brothers' house about two hours after I left

the hospital and said mom had passed.  At that moment, I knew God had heard my prayers and did what was best for mom.  It didn't help my heart break

or the guilt I was feeling.  I prayed more to help me understand how life works, and thanked God for hearing my prayers, too.

My mother suffered with her battle of cancer for only four months, and this would be her wishes, as she never wanted to be a burden to others.

She was a giving and caring mother, even in the last hours of her life.

I still miss her, but I know that her spirit is with me when I need her the most.

The lessons I have taken from this experience is to make the most of each day. We never know when it will be our last day on earth. 
© Copyright 2013 50's Child (busytexaslady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1967867