The words death and grief are not foreign to me. I know them quite well. These words mean pain and there is no escaping it to get to the "other side."As I was completing my first year of college my mother became very ill. We found a good doctor and he operated on her only to find she had cancer of the stomach, liver and colon. She lived only 5 weeks after her surgery. The last 2 at home, where she wanted to die. I would not believe that she was going to die. My mother was a woman of great faith and we prayed and believed she would be healed miraculously. The last night, I told her not to forget to pray for her healing. She looked at me as if she knew that would not happen. I called our Priest and explained that I could not accept this. Then he asked me one of the most intriguing questions... "Can you accept the fact that death is the ultimate healing?" I pondered the question and finally answered "yes." What I didn't realize was that she was getting the miracle she wanted and that was for me to accept her death. During the night, her breathing became very labored and I can't explain the physical changes she went through during the short hours until her death. Her last words, "yes, I'm ready." Never would I look at death as the end. I was 18.
