Here’s a story that made me cry. I would be interested to hear what you think.
On Saturday, I went out to dinner with Shawn and his family. We had a nice time and felt refreshed after having spent so much time at the Hospice House. Later that evening one of the night nurses was telling me that Mom had been talking, and was so excited about meeting Amanda. Amanda this, and Amanda that. She had seen someone named Amanda, apparently not in the room. “Who’s Amanda?” I asked. She didn’t know anyone named Amanda that I knew of. The nurse shrugged her shoulders and brushed it off. Perhaps she was mistaken. I didn’t think anything more of it until today.
Two of today’s tasks were to visit with the funeral director and then drive to the cemetery to confirm the plot. This is a much less daunting task since mom had the foresight to plan ahead. She had already purchased a funeral package, picked out her casket, and selected a site where she would be buried. I am so thankful she did this tough job so none of her kids would have to shoulder that burden.
We confirmed the funeral plans and time of service. They have a website which is left up indefinitely. If you click on her picture (Connie Centers) you can write a comment or purchase flowers. In lieu of flowers you can donate to Cornerstone Hospice, or more specifically Lane Purcell Hospice House in Sumterville, Florida, which is were we spent the last two weeks of her life. That website is www.hamlinhilbish.com if you’d like to visit.
The funeral director sent me to the cemetery, emphasizing the importance of going immediately. It is not too far from the funeral home. The “counselor” drove me out to the plot on her golf cart, and I confirmed this is where she was to be buried. Mom and I had gone there before, as she wanted to show me what she had picked out.
Just four months ago we had walked the cemetery to look at her plot. She told me how she was so happy to be buried there, under the trees and next to a little girl. She thought they might comfort one another, and she was looking forward to meeting her in Heaven one day. Mom was really taken by this little girl she had never met before, and all these memories of our walk to her plot started flooding my mind. I could not hold back the tears when I realized the girl’s name was Amanda.
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I felt I needed to explain to the counselor why I was crying. I truly believed my mother had met Amanda four days earlier, just before she became unresponsive, and I was so overwhelmed with emotion. They were probably playing together, and walking hand-in-hand. Perhaps Amanda lead her to the streets of gold and even introduced her to Jesus. One day I look forward to meeting her as well.
What do you think?
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À la prochaine (Until next time) …