On surrendering…

Today’s journal entry, after a challenging weekend with my 96 year old mother.

It is the winter solstice; the day that the dark begins to lose to the light. The day that we begin the rebirth.

Yet, it feels the opposite to me right now as my mom struggles.  But, I guess another way to look at it is that she will could begin to move toward the light, as it becomes brighter and brighter.  It will become more and more inviting and powerful.

I think her soul is ready to go, but she’s stuck.  Maybe the recent spate of falls are a catalyst to get her unstuck.  We all pray that she just goes to bed one night and never wakes up, which could still happen of course, but it seems as if that isn’t quite the way that she will exit.

My dad orchestrated the perfect death.  He died suddenly.  He died outside where he was happiest, in the back yard.  No worrying about his health or who would care for my mom.  No extended hospital stays or heroic measures.  Just a beautiful spring day and BAM!

My mom, who had more health challenges and hospitalizations than my dad over the years has held on to age 96.  Her soul is leaking out as her memories and cognition and grasp of reality leave her.  She is half in and half out and I can only believe that as she becomes more frail and unable to function, that light will draw her ever closer.

I was thinking about all of this as I had plenty of time to observe and feel out her situation over the past few days. I see very clearly now that my job is not to spiritually guide her to the other side, but rather, to allow HER guides to work as they will.  Someone recently explained to me a theory that we all have various ‘exit ramps’ that appear in our lives;  opportunities to leave this incarnation. We often manage to speed past them or maybe we put on our turn signal, but change our mind at the last moment and veer back into the living.

My mom has an exit ramp approaching and if I keep too tight of a grip and protect her too much, she will miss it.  She says she’s ready.  She often wonders why she’s still here.  She may have zoomed past some other ramps, thanks to various earthly interventions on her behalf.  Or maybe there were spiritual interventions on her behalf.  I’ll never know, but I do know that she’s passed a lot of exit ramps in 96 years.

This time, I feel as if we need to back off and let her take that ramp.  It’s time to stop the back seat driving and let her get off the freeway.

She’s been speaking of ‘going home’ for the past couple of months.  Yesterday, when I asked her where she was going, she said “I don’t know,’ she chuckled.  “Maybe hell, but I don’t think so.  I’ve tried to live a good life and make good decisions.  So, I don’t see how I would end up there”.

I told her that all of the people she loved are waiting for her in heaven and she replied, “I sure hope so”.

She keeps falling.  I’ve been there to see her fall several times and it’s wrenching for me to witness her frailty, fear and pain.  She has no control in her life.  Of anything. And I caught myself over-controlling her when I was there.  My motivation was to keep her safe and to avoid any pain.  But,I can’t alleviate her pain.

Someone takes her to the toilet. Someone fixes her meals. Someone dresses and undresses her and shows up to give her pills that she doesn’t want, 3 times a day.  Someone (me, usually) warns her of falling or hurting herself.  What’s left? She feels completely alone, even when others are with her.

She enjoys our visits, but all I seem to do is sound warnings, with an occasional pleasant conversation, always about the distant past.  That is where her comfort lies; the time in her life when she was vital and useful and strong.

So, it seems as if she is approaching that exit ramp and it’s time for us to back off and allow her to take it.  If that means she must continue to fall and yes, hurt herself, then that’s how it has to be.  Perhaps it’s the soul equivalent of jumping off a cliff.  We don’t get to decide how we go, even as we’re on the ramp toward The Divine.

She’s ready and we have to see that it’s time to let go of her and allow the process to unfold as it will.  We hate to see her physically hurting, but must consider that the psychic and emotional pain of remaining in her body is excruciating for her.

Surrender.