2 days before the Lord called you home, I walked into your hospital room and prayed. I asked the Lord to give you peace, because I knew that you didn’t have long on this earth. I asked him to take away your pain, because I know you were in so much pain. I asked him to give me strength because I did not want to say goodbye.
1 Day before the Lord called you home, I sang to you all of the songs that we use to sing together. Even though you couldn’t sing them with me, I sang them to you. “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, “I see the moon”,” Emma Grace she so pretty”, “Itsy bitsy spider”, and your favorite “Deck The Halls”… I held your hand in mine and kissed your fingers. I memorized your face, like I had done so many times before… but this time was different. This time I knew…
The day the Lord called you home, I knelt by your bed and whispered in your ear. I had promised you when you were born that I would fight for you, despite what all of the doctors said, I would fight until you stopped fighting. I told you that it was okay to stop fighting, I knew in my heart that you would soon be gone. You opened your eyes as if to say “Okay, I’m ready” and quickly closed them again. That was the last time I saw your beautiful blue eyes. I memorized them, because I knew in my heart that you would not open them for me again.
At 2pm. Your dad and I met with the doctors….they told us that you would never come off life support, that you would never be the Emma that we knew and had grown to love over the last 9+years. That your heart was failing you. They told us that you would pass away once everything was turned off. They gave us our options, we chose to turn off the machines.
At 6:45 I held you for the last time.
At 7:15 on April 22nd (Good Friday), you received your healing.
Right then and there, I felt peace yet heartache all at the same time. I felt sorrow yet joy.
I felt peace because I knew that you were instantly healed, yet heartache because I knew you were gone.
I felt sorrow because I wanted you back, yet joy because I knew you were dancing with your donor at His feet at that exact moment.
But mostly, I felt alone.
For 9+ years I had been your “ma’am”. I had been your advocate. I had been your supporter. I had been “The Mommy”
You were my life. I didn’t know what to be with you gone.
I still don’t.
I have turned your room into my writing room. I have your pictures from the Celebration Service on the wall across from my desk. You are my inspiration. Your life inspires me to be so much more than I am right now. Your laugh fills this room. It pierces my heart. You are never far from my mind.
I have a love/hate relationship with “That Day”.
I hate it because it was the day you died.
I love it because on April 22nd, you were healed.
And that, my sweet girl, was my only longing and prayer for you.
To be healed.