"Just have faith"
Words spoken as my Mother is dying.
"Faith in what?
That death is a part of life?
- That time heals all wounds?
It is her time?
I sit on the side of her bed and wonder when the moment will come.
The hospice nurse is calm.
I am not.
Part of me wishes it would come quickly.
The other side denies it will ever happen.
Questions bombard my mind
Did my mother truly believe in an afterlife?
She used to be Catholic.
Yet she married a young Soldier, who came home after the war and divorced his wife.
She was pregnant with another man's child.
So my mother married, as my Grandmother once said. "That divorced man."
That divorced man is my father
He truly loved my mother.
I exist because of the marriage.
Yet, Grandmother, went to the priest and had my mother excommunicated.
We didn't grow up in church.
Catholic or otherwise,
My mother didn't talk about faith. But she lived a life of faith.
So now, my mother will soon know the Big Secret.
What happens after death.
I pray that it is a peaceful transition.
I know my mother is good.
My faith may not be tied to a specific religion.
Yet, I find peace in praying.
I find peace in living the ten commandments.
I find love in my mother's eyes that was transferred to me.
and I have faith.
She will move on and know the big secret.
Someday, I will join her.
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