Birds at the Cemetary

My mother died last week. She was 91 years old, healthy, happy and completely sane; until she wasn't. She was born on the farm in Kansas in the Spring of 1919. During her childhood, she saw the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl. She had to board in town to go to high school. She took a train to Georgia in 1942 to marry my dad while he was in the Navy during WW II. They had five children between 1943 and 1958. My dad drove 100 miles a day to work at the Ford Plant and Mom raised us while he was on the road or on the assembly line. She watched her sons serve in the Army and one went to the Vietnam War. She lived a long life watching her children grow up, get married, have babies, get divorced and one died... She lost my dad in 1989. She lived in the old house for a few years and then moved into Assisted Living in town. Then she moved to Illinois to live near me in another Assisted Living Facility and she never looked back.

She had good times out here watching her grandchildren grow up, get married, have babies and, back in Kansas, one died... She began to fall down. She moved to a Nursing Home and loved it there. She participated in every activity they had and ran her wheelchair up and down the hall, always in a hurry. Every night as she left the Dining Room, she called out as she waved, "Good night, see you tomorra". By this time she was back down to her original weight of 100 lbs. She'd had health issues most of her adult life, but she was in good health now and enjoying her life; until she wasn't. She made a trip to the ER by ambulance because she was found unconcious. She couldn't understand why the techs in the ambulance didn't bring the book she was reading! After a week of tests and blood draws and IVs she went back to her home. In 9 days she was back in ER, this time due to a heart attack. They started the same round of tests as before and it seemed like torture. The doctors told me she would continue this sequence of home and hospital from now on. Mom and I talked it over, and she decided God loved her and she was ready to pass. We called all her children one by one so she could talk to them. She talked to her sisters. She talked to the ministers. Then she went back to her room at the nursing home on a hospice stay. She loved her orange sherbet and was alert; until she wasn't. She could no longer be aroused on Saturday and on Thursday she slipped quietly away with no pain and no sorrow. From the first trip to the hospital until she died it was only 26 days.

She was transferred back to Kansas to be placed beside my dad. The attendance at the funeral was small. Most of her friends had passed away before her. She had a blue casket with pictures of blue skies and clouds on the outside and embroidered on the inside were flying birds and the words 'going home'. As the procession pulled into the cemetary we witnessed an amazing thing. In the blue sky, as far as we could see to the North and as far as we could see to the South, there were thousands of geese flying directly over the cemetary. We stood watching and listening to them call. It seemed so right, so appropriate to witness the birds flying to their winter home, just as Mother's soul had flown to her home, her mansion on the hilltop, her place in Heaven to be with God. I will NEVER forget the birds and the peace they brought to me. Goodbye, Mama.