A good friend posted on Facebook that he’s had a horrible day, that he hopes tomorrow will be better.
We all have good days and bad days. It’s just how life is. There are seasons. But, one thing I’ve always experienced is that things look brighter in the morning. It sounds so very trite, but it is true.
I remember the flight out to California, after I got word my mother died. It was a horrible trip. You see, we already were out there just the day before, after hearing my mother was in a coma. It became a long vigil after 10 days. A coma before death can take a long time, my father said.
My mother’s situation was pretty stable otherwise, and, after talking with my father, we decided to fly back to Boston. I was extremely anxious about the work I was missing and felt tremendous guilt about that.
So, I said goodbye out loud to my mother and kissed her cheek. I hoped she could hear me. We headed to the airport.
Unfortunately, just as we boarded the plane, my mother started to decline. When we arrived at home, my father called me to say that things weren’t going well. He, my sister and my cousin were praying the Rosary, a Catholic tradition for when someone is about to die. My mother’s breathing became more irregular and shallow. As I was on the line with my father, my mother expired. My sister started to wail in the background.
We put to bed our young and very tired children. Mrs. T. and I didn’t even unpack our bags. We merely added clothing for the funeral, and I immediately booked a flight back out for the morning.
That night, I felt tremendous guilt. How could I miss my mother’s death? Why didn’t I decide to stay for just one more day? What if?
With time, I’ve developed a new perspective. It was probably for the best that I wasn’t physically there for the actual death, as my mother and I were very close. I was grateful that I in fact was on the line. A part of me actually believes that my mother was willing to let go after I said my goodbye to her.
Perhaps, it was “meant to be”? The day of her death was also her birthday and Mother’s Day.
So, things do look better in the morning. Sometimes, it takes quite a few mornings to get a new perspective.
I have no doubt that my mother loved me. I believe that she knew how deeply I loved her. I still feel a bit of guilt every now and again. But, I increasingly feel OK with how things transpired.
So, to my friend who has had a bad day: Time heals all wounds. Things will look up. They always do….