The Journey Home: October 4 to October 9, 2008

Christian and I had just begun our dinner of a new recipe I had found for spaghetti squash.

The phone rang. It was Linda. With a catch in her voice. When I heard her, I simply said, "I am coming."

On the morning of October 6 we got up at 3:30 am and were on the road at 4, first to St. Brieuc, on to Rennes where I had 5 minutes to get from Quai 2 to Quai 8 -- I made it! -- and then to Charles de Gaulle for the long trip home. I could not help but remember that I had been in Los Angeles when I received the call from my father on April 1, 1992 telling me that my own mother was "gone." That morning I remember thinking, "How appropriate that I am in the City of Angels. How appropriate that I am on the West coast where Aunt Harriett is. How appropriate that I am flying over the Pacific Ocean as the plane takes off to take me home."

I arrived in San Jose and Amy was there to greet me. We finally got back to Modesto at 10 that night.

In the meanwhile, my cousins were visiting with Aunt Harriett. When Linda came home, she said, "We got a gift. Mom was alert as she has not been for a long time and she was laughing and joking with us. Even wanted to get dressed for the party."

Tuesday morning we went straightaway to the hospital. "Hello, Aunt Harriett." She was alert then too. So we all chatted and I told (perhaps too many) stories and then she was tired.

We all waited for her to be taken back to English Oaks that day. Finally at about 3 pm that happened. I believe it was prior to that -- oh, yes -- I know it was prior to that that she said in her dreamstate:

"I can't see it, Daddy."

That is when I knew the time would be soon for her leave-taking.

Then she looked up at Sharon and said,

"You look like Mary."

***
Sharon and JoAnne stayed with their mother that night. Later Sharon told us that Aunt Harriett had been talking and looking at all of the pictures. Linda took the second night shift that evening and started the morphine at 1 am. But Aunt Harriett was still talking; talking about a trip she was taking.

Keith took me to begin my shift at 7 and by 10 am, when she was no longer responding or very little to familiar, beloved voices, I knew that I must call Sharon and Jack, that they must come that day, that hour to be with their mother.

I was able to minister to her needs for water, for comfort, for love in precisely the same ways I had for my beloved mother and Aunt Lorraine. Drops of water, a glycerine swab, but most importantly prayers and song, sweet kisses on her forehead and temple. Thanks be to God.

Linda was resting but came at about 1 pm.

Caroline came too, the eldest grandchild.

I left for a while and stood out on Linda and Keith's patio and prayed. I prayed hard, just as hard as I could. And got a little upset with God, imploring God to end Aunt Harriett's suffering swiftly now. It was enough for this good and lovely woman and her family.

And while I was storming heaven, the hospice nurse informed my cousins that the sweet chariot would come soon, very soon to take Aunt Harriett home.

That day. That night.

***
Caroline came to take me back to English Oaks. Bless her heart. Bless her heart.

***
The vigil had begun.

Larry was able to speak privately to her by phone.

JoAnne and Rachel arrived.

***


And then it was time for me to leave my cousins with their mother. It was time for me to let go of my Aunt Harriett's hand just as I had let go of my mother's hand. Just as I had released Aunt Lorraine's hand.

It was time to let them go. Home.

Before I left I did not, however, as I had for my mother and Aunt Lorraine, trace the sign of the cross on Aunt Harriett's forehead. I felt that it was not for me to do this time. But I did say:

Go in Peace. Go with God. Do not be afraid, dear Aunt Harriett. They are waiting for you.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

***

Sharon was staying until 3 and then Linda was to take over. But Linda could not sleep and so she went over at about 1:30. Sharon left at 3.

At 1234 Trombetta I sat bolt upright in bed at precisely 2 30 am. Just as I had when my Uncle John died.

Keith knocked on my door close to 3 30 to tell me that Aunt Harriett was gone. She now of blessed memory. And memories.

Then Linda was home and we sat and wept very quietly together.

"The end of all meetings, parting;
The end of all striving, peace."