Sighs

Today I am grateful for family time— in conversation, the sharing of meals, walks together, playing games, telling stories, opening gifts. I am grateful for my family—the big, sprawling, extended one, and our own smaller, immediate family. The holidays, and every day, are about cherishing and respecting family time.

On my trip to Iowa, to visit with that big, sprawling, extended family, I stopped to see my mom in the nursing home. She was in bed and I spent my time next to her, sometimes holding her hand to feel her warmth and share mine. I showed her pictures of Sam’s recent graduation, played a couple of Christmas songs, and read her the letter I had sent out this year. She was chatty that morning. Asking who sang a song, saying thank you. It was less than twenty words total, but more than I often will hear from her when I visit.

I always lean over and tell her “It’s okay to let go when you are ready Mom.” I wish peace and comfort for her—in her days, and in her passing when the time comes.

Between “What Child is This” and “Oh Holy Night,” she let out an audible sigh. And then I didn’t see her breathing and I thought “Oh my God, she just died.” Fear and loss gripped me momentarily, and then I noticed the rise and fall of her chest and I let out my own sigh of relief. Even when I tell myself I am ready for something, how can I ever be fully ready until it happens? I can fully trust though, that I will make it through, with faith in my Higher Power.

I woke up the next morning, at my sister’s rural home, and sighed with relaxation. The deep quiet, and lack of vehicle noise we usually have, were palpable and appreciated. It’s a different kind of quiet and nurtures my being.

Whether sighs of relief, resignation, or relaxation, honor them all. Honor the emotions and bodily sensations that accompany each. It is in those sighs, and small moments, that life can most profoundly reveal itself.

My mom and I sharing a connection in one of the ways we still can.