Book of Numbers, chapter 6:24

When my father died one hot July evening from the toxic effects of spraying an insecticide he left my mother a widow with seven children.

My mother was a gentle yet firm woman. God and church ruled her life, while love and the right dose of discipline guided her motherhood, The four oldest kids helped support our family financially, and together we did more than just get along. My childhood was full of rich Catholic values, security, and love.

When I was a teenager, Mom was diagnosed with cancer. She underwent a mastectomy and radiation. But rather than offering a cure, these only brought more suffering. We did our best to keep Mom comfortable during the year-and-a –half after her diagnosis. It was the 1940’s, a time when pain killers were not widely used. All Mom had to soften her cross was her ever-present rosary and the crucifix that hung in her room. Yet, somehow she always found a way to smile and ask us all, “How was your day?”

When it was clear the end was near, Mom received the last rites and we all gathered around her. Our hearts overflowed with love and sadness; it would not be long now. Suddenly, Mom lifted her head and opened her eyes wide. She looked ahead of her in awe, seeing something truly amazing and wonderful. Then , very peacefully, she lay her head back down and slipped away.

The days and weeks that followed melded into a blur of grief. But as the months turned into years, it was my mother’s last moment in this world that gave me peace. She had seen something. Mom was not alone when she left us. Someone had come for her and God had given us the grace of sharing Mom’s first glimpse of the eternal.

Julie Maguire, Mother of seven children in Detroit, Michigan