16 November 2008, 9:48 am
Scene: 1928, Grand Forks, ND, Lincoln Family Farm, Family of 7 gathered around dying mother's bed, she, daughter of a Baptist minister, succumbing to leukemia. As told to me by my father, who witnessed it when he was 12. I hold my saintly mother's hand while she laid so frail upon her bed. For days she barely spoke. This morning, though, her eyes shone and she had found her voice. "He's there, on the other side! Calling for me to come. I've followed Him all my life, his beckoning I will answer. This river I must cross over. My feet, oh, the water is so cold." I reached to her feet and they were. "Deeper I go, my legs are sluggish, I'm up to my waist now." I felt of her thigh, it was cold. "The water is to my neck, the chill tightens my lungs. It's hard to breathe, but He continues to call, please let go of my hand." I did as I heard her struggle to breathe and put my head upon her laboring chest. "One last breath I must manage, to put my head under and swim the rest of the way." She did and then no more breaths she took. I lifted my head to see the smile upon my mother's face. She had made it to the other side.... Read More »
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