For the last couple of months, I must be honest, I was concerned about my mother passing. It wasn’t so much as her leaving this earth because I knew where she was going but of me being present when she left. I’ve never experienced death of a person first-hand, especially someone so close, and it rattled me when she died. But as always, when my mother is involved, testing of my faith becomes a treasured memory and an ultimate blessing.
My son, Tejay, and I had planned to leave on May 10, 2019, to visit my parents in Florida, but bad weather between here and Texas kept us home. So, a week later, on May 17, we packed our bags and took off for Florida.
We were driving into Shreveport when we got the call from dad that mom was headed to the ER. We were stunned. We knew this wasn’t good because Mom had told my dad that she did not want to go back to the hospital. The concerns that I had been carrying for months were becoming a reality. But I knew in the same instant that God had planned this all along. We didn’t have to decide if we should go. We were already headed down the road.
By late afternoon, we heard that mom would be going into hospice as soon as there was a bed available. With this, my heart sank deeper, and my anxieties intensified. I must admit that I even bargained with God. I told Him that if He took her before I arrived then wouldn’t that be a sign of His mercy that I could find strength in? I would gain such great faith in that! But God doesn’t play the bargaining game, and I knew that. I was failing miserably on the faith meter, and I knew that too.
I live in Dallas and had intended to make it to Mobile that night but with the unexpected phone calls and extra stops needed to catch my breath, we only made it to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, which is exactly half-way. Normally, it takes nine or so hours to get to Hattiesburg. This time it had taken over twelve.
When I woke the next morning, I didn’t want to move. I was trembling. I felt like a hypocrite. I’ve counseled women on trusting God. I’ve taught about faith from the book of James, but here I was hoping for a side door exit. It is one thing to speak faith and another to put feet to it. I learned in my seminary training that faith is an action verb in the Greek. I knew to find it, I had to move. So, I got up and left, hoping that my faith would catch up with my feet.
We had barely left Hattiesburg when my dad called and said that mom’s breathing had become irregular. I called a friend in Texas who had experienced the loss of a husband. She told me mom’s breathing was a sign that change was imminent. It could be a few hours or a couple of days. The storm was upon me, and all I could do was keep going in deeper. I was frightened, but I was coming to terms with the fact that God was growing me, testing me in the fire of life to be more like Him.
We arrived on the outskirts of Jacksonville a little after 8 PM and decided to stop at a Cracker Barrel to stretch our legs. When I came out of their little store, I looked up in the sky and saw the moon completely full shining back at me. The night before I had noticed that it was almost round, but at this point, it took up half the sky with its fullness. I was completely awestruck. Without much thought to my words, I spoke to God and said, “Wouldn’t it be something special if mama could go to heaven during this full moon. Then whenever I see a full moon, I can think of her.” I wasn’t bargaining this time. I was instead thinking about how special the moon has always been to me. When my kids were young, we use to watch “Big Bear in the Big Blue House.” One of Bear’s friends was Luna, the moon. To this day, my kids and I smile when we see Luna in the sky. But I told God, I knew it wasn’t about what I wanted but what was best for mama. Even though I was anxious about what was to come, I was coming to terms with God’s will.
About ten minutes later, the phone rang and Tejay answered. Mom had passed away ten minutes earlier. Instantly, I knew that when I was talking to God at Cracker Barrel, Mom was being taken to Heaven by Jesus. I will never forget the powerful tsunami of emotions that consumed my body. I was headed down I-95 at 75 miles an hour. This is one of the deadliest roads in the country. It is normally packed with travelers, but I had realized moments earlier it was eerily empty. I’ve never seen it like that again.
When the call came, I knew immediately she was gone. All I had to do was wait for the confirmation from Tejay. When he did, my emotions took an unexpected turn. Instantly, I was filled with pure, unadulterated joy. Tears filled my eyes and shouts of excitement filled my mouth so much so that it was deafening. I have little idea what I said but I can still remember the rush of Heaven! My mom was with her Savior! She was free to walk in the Garden. She was with her mom, brother, and sister. We’d talked about this moment for so long and her time was now here! I can honestly say I never expected such a reaction. It scared my son completely! He thought I was losing it! He started telling me to get off the highway. He didn’t want to die. In my state of euphoria, I was able to get out that I was okay. I don’t believe he got the message because he called out, “Keep the gate open Grandmama! We’re comin’ to join you!”
No one can stay on an emotional high for long. That intense feeling of pure joy started subsiding and a residue of peace mixed with deep, unfathomable grief started coming over me. We pulled off at the next exit and I parked facing the moon. It wasn’t as big and bold as it had been minutes earlier, but it was beautifully hanging in the sky. The fears that I had wrestled with for months were dull aches all over me. I hadn’t seen her die but I felt like I’d gotten a quick glance as the doors of heaven closed as she entered.
I started realizing the reality that she was gone. My dad was at the hospice wing of the hospital dealing with indescribable grief. I was in the middle of Jacksonville miles from St. Augustine about to face life without Mom. It was tough. But there in the sky was Luna. I knew her presence was a gift from God. He had heard my prayer and chose to give me a beautiful memorial that I will never forget.
As I sat trying to gather my emotions in that shopping center parking lot, something dawned on me. A couple of years prior, Mom had told me that if there was a way, she would let me know that she was okay and Heaven was as wonderful as we believed. We both knew when she said it that a person can’t manipulate things on earth just because they have died, but it hit me in that parking lot that God can. He had heard my prayer and took my Mom during that full moon. And just maybe he granted my mom a wish on earth to allow her daughter to get a glimpse of heaven. I sure got a glimpse of something!
Dad had asked me to come by the hospice unit because he needed me to sign some papers or something. Little did I know that he wanted to give me the opportunity to say good-bye to mom. Mom was gone but her shell remained. Back almost 20 years earlier, my mom’s mom passed away. At the funeral home, mom and I were left in the room with the casket. I will never forget out of nowhere, my mom became very excited. With almost shock, she said over and over again, “She’s not there! That’s just her shell!” She pulled me over and pushed me to touch my grandmother’s body where I would feel that there was no life in her. I didn’t want to. I fought but then I touched her cold corpse. That was decades ago. Now as I stood looking at my mom’s empty body, tears streamed down my face. I told her, “I don’t have to touch you, Mama. I know you’re not there.” It was a painful closure for me, but one my mom had prepared me for years earlier.
There were so many emotions that night. God even gave us a moment of giggles. While I was in with my mom, Tejay was listening to the nurse share about my mom’s final moments. Dad had been there all afternoon, never leaving mom’s side. The nurse said at one point, she came in and suggested to my dad to go home and rest and get something to eat, but he insisted on staying a little longer. She said that she would be back later. Dad had decided that he would leave when the nurse returned.
A visitor came for a bit but for the most part, dad talked to mom. She was sedated but every once in a while, she would squeeze his hand. So, he knew she was there.
When the nurse returned, dad stopped talking and looked up and told the nurse he was going to go home and get some rest. She went over to check mom, then turned to my dad and said, “Mr. Wolfe, she’s gone.” Dad looked up and said without hesitation, “Oh no, I talked her to death.”
When Tejay told me that I just had to laugh. My brain went to work at that moment and this is all I could see. My dad is a not a talker, but my mom is. Mom was always trying to get dad to talk, but dad just isn’t known for trivial conversation. I think when dad was talking, Jesus came down and said, “Betty, I see Don’s talking. And you know what, Sandy’s in Jacksonville looking at the moon. How about you just come on home. What better time to come with me than in the middle of Don talking to you?” And she went. I really believe she left with a wonderful earthly gift—Don talking to her. I don’t know if God exactly orchestrated all of that together, but God certainly allowed for some sweet memories. But the blessings didn’t stop there.
That not I got on Facebook and a friend of mine from Ormond Beach shared a picture of the moon taken at the Flagler Pier hours earlier. This is just a few miles from where my mom passed away. Apparently, close to the time my mom died, the photographer snapped this shot. I was overwhelmed that here was a picture of the moon that had so comforted me earlier in the evening. I contacted my friend to contact the artist. Without a second thought, my friend bought the rights from the photographer where she could take the print and frame it for me. To this day, it hangs above our fireplace in the living room.
I can’t begin to describe to you all the emotions of those two days traveling and then of that night in St. Augustine. It was like every emotion wrapped into one with a crazy sense of peace at night’s end. Words can’t begin to describe it.
The next morning, I woke up and I was numb. Grief and sorrow were knocking on the door. The incredible range of emotions I had felt the night before were gone. I was lost. When I looked at my son coming in the room, I said, “Last night I felt God’s presence so strongly. I saw the moon as a gift from Him. Maybe I just made it all up in my head.” I will never forget what he said. “Yep, just like the Israelites. They hear God on the mountain one night and the next day they’re making calves out of gold to worship.”