“To care for those 
who once cared 
for us is one of 
the highest honors.” 
Tia Walker

My previous blog post mentions that I’m “On Vacation” until September 1st. This has not changed, yet I feel compelled to write this blog post tonight. It was on this date four years ago that I had the honor of spending the entire night sitting at my mother’s bedside at the Villa Siena Retirement Community in Mountain View, California. It would be her last night on earth.

Mom’s death was imminent. For two weeks, my siblings and I had been taking turns being with her during the daytime and early evening hours. A professional caregiver stayed with Mom through the nights. By August 17, 2022, it was clear that it was a matter of hours, not days, until Mom’s earthly life would come to an end. Some of my siblings were with her throughout that day. I had volunteered to take over around 9:00 p.m. and spend the night with Mom.

I did not consider this responsibility to be a burden at all. It was pure gift. As Tia Walker wrote in her book The Inspired Caregiver: Finding Joy While Caring for Those You Love, “To care for those who once cared for us is one of the highest honors.”

Mom cared for me. She cared for my brother, Tom, and my sisters, Cathy and Peggy, as well. It took many years for me to realize that Mom was the personification of unconditional love. As emotionally challenging as it was for me to be with Mom that night, knowing that the end was near, I cherished the opportunity to be there with her,… and for her. 

It’s ironic that when my maternal grandmother was nearing the end of her life in 1992, Mom spent countless hours sitting at her bedside at Saint Mary’s Hospital in San Francisco. On Monday, December 14, I stopped by the hospital to visit Mom and Grandma. Mom looked exhausted. She had been by Grandma’s bedside for too many hours. I suggested that she go home and get a good night’s sleep. I assured her that I would stay with Grandma through the night. Several times that night, I thought Grandma had taken her last breath, only to hear her gasp and continue breathing. Mom returned to the hospital the next morning and spent the day with her mother. She and her sister, Kathleen, were by Grandma’s bedside around 6:00 p.m. when Grandma passed away.

I had a remarkably similar experience four years ago tonight while sitting with Mom. On more than one occasion, I thought she had stopped breathing, but just like her mother, she would gasp and then continue breathing. In the morning, on August 18th, my sister, Cathy, arrived to take over. I went home to sleep. Peggy and Tom arrived a little later in the day. In the late afternoon, just about the time I was waking up at home and preparing to return to Villa Siena, Mom died. I was the only one of her children not to be with her when she passed. 

Throughout my life, Mom taught me how to live my life with integrity. In her final days, she taught me how to die with dignity. Mom was not afraid of death. She had lived a good, though difficult, life. She had learned how to view the world through the lens of gratitude. She had mastered the ability to recognize God’s presence in all people and in all situations. She taught me the importance of being kind, generous, compassionate, patient, and grateful. 

My formal education may have come primarily from the Jesuits, but the most influential teacher in my life was, without a doubt, my Mom.

I love you, Mom, and I miss you.