Yesterday I visited my sweet 96 year old who is barely there. She has been transitioning for weeks. She is all bones. When I got to her room with the med tech she was wrapped in several blankets. I spoke loudly to let her know I was there. I asked how she was feeling and she said she was waiting to go see the Good Lord. So I said loudly, “Go darling! It’s time. Go! You can dance and play with Him!”
Her roommate who is much younger, but has progressive dementia yells, “I wanna go. I want to go where she’s going!”
“No, sweetheart, it’s not your time. You can’t go where she’s going at this time. You go on a later date!”
My client started on her loop, “Don’t Rush me. I’m going as fast as I can. I have rivers to cross. I can’t get on the raft….” I touched her arm to calm her state of confusion.
Her roommate started yelling, “I wanna go where she’s going too. I know how to swim.”
The med tech looks at me with a scorn look and says, “See what you started?” We both smiled.
I heard someone come into her room in a wheelchair and the elderly patient was ready to also go on the field trip to wherever my client was going!
When you give consent and wishes to loved ones to go be with the Good Lord please be sure no one else is ready to join them. Seems there are rivers to cross and not enough room on the raft.
4 thoughts on “Crossing Over”
Very meaningful. The day before my Mom (dementia) crossed over I spent the night in a chair at her bedside. several times she raised up & “picked ” flowers from the wallpaper. In broken conversation she said these were for the people she could see just across the way (i.e. parents, husband, first child who died at birth) & she wanted to give them a bouquet the moment she arrived!! Such a comfort. Your writing speaks volumes to me. Thanks.
Ohhh! I love this story. Thank you so much.
Transitioning on way of crossing over seemed what my mother was doing. I was her home hospice nurse last 7 weeks of her life. She knew she was dying though not actually verbalizing it. Sometimes she would blow kisses as though she was leaving the pier on a cruise ship. I read where transitioning occurs not merely on the death bed. It can be weeks, months , even years before that final sickness. Looking back I can see how she was withdrawing from this world more and more hiding in her reading and speaking only when very necessary.
Thank you for sharing this. Feel your words in my heart.