Thirty years ago, my mother was dying of breast cancer. At the time, I was 36 weeks pregnant and I flew out to see her before she died (back then, they still let you on a plane at that stage). When it was time for me to fly home, I hesitated, because I knew it would be the last time I would see her. I struggled with the decision whether to go or stay with her until she passed away.
While I was standing beside her hospital bed, she took my hand and told me I needed to go home, because I had to take care of myself and her future granddaughter. That was the most difficult thing for me to do, and over the years, I’ve always questioned that decision to go. My siblings have also given me a hard time about it as well, since I didn’t return for her funeral.
That baby girl is now expecting her first child in a few months, and I can absolutely say that if I were dying, I would not allow her to put her life, or the life of my granddaughter, at risk just to be at my side. I know now that my momma knew what was best for all of us.
Susan
My Dying Mom Knew What Was Best for Me
