I got up yesterday morning at 10 a.m. Slept in a bit after teaching for two straight days.
Looked in the closet and put on a jersey I only wore once. It was when I attended Super Bowl 43.
I wore it all day – and wondered why.
Then late yesterday afternoon I sent out an email entitled “The Battle for Your Life.” Strange subject line. Wondered why I chose that one.
Three minutes after the email went out my father called. Before I answered I heard a voice say, “Your mother died.”
Huh?
I answered. My dad could barely speak. I kept saying “hello” and then he said, “Mother is in emergency.”
My wife and I, along with my friend, Mark, rushed to my Dad’s home and picked him up.
As soon as my father saw my mother’s condition he called the pastor. I knew the end was near but she survived the night.
At 5:30 am I was awakened by an angel telling me to go NOW to the hospital.
I was greeted by an open-eyed mother, glad to see me. I held her hand until nearly 8 am – then left to pick up my father.
Before leaving I told my Mom I was going to get Dad and bring him to see her.
“Is that okay?” I asked. She shook her head no. Nah, couldn’t be.
On the way to the hospital I told my Dad that Mom was hanging on for him and he needed to give her permission to transition Both of us began to cry. Then we recovered and he nodded and prayed that God could have her now if it was best for her.
When we walked into my Mom’s room we were greeted by the nurse who told us “she just died.”
After our initial reaction, my Dad and I acknowledged that she didn’t want her husband of 63 years to see her last moments. Always the private person. Right to the very end of her physical journey.
This one began on 4/30/1927 – so now you know why I wore number 43 yesterday.
Mom, I’m so thankful that you were my Mother. I love you – and we’ll stay in touch. You’ll be hearing from me – often.
I’ll never forget you and now pass back to you what you would always write and say to me, “I love you – but Jesus loves you more.”
You’re now with Him – then again you always were.
Your son,
Matthew John
P. S. Last night Frank said, “You always made the best waffles.”
Kathleen Rose McGrath Furey
4/30/1927 – 1/20/2014
