My Mother's Angels

As my mother entered her mid-eighties, she began feeling more dependent and anxious. She occasionally had trouble falling asleep at night, and worried she would miss taking her daily medications at the appropriate times. My sister lived nearby, and fielded many a late night telephone call. I unfortunately lived several states away. Between us we sisters decided to give my mother a regular, evening bedtime call. I offered to call Mom four times a week. While the intent of these calls was to try to give peace to my mother, it turned out that these calls strengthened the calm, loving bond growing between my mother and me during her last years.

We began with a long, drawn out, almost comic “good evening.” I could feel my mother smile as our phone ritual commenced. At first I asked about her day, but this often led to her ailment complaints or to describing the misbehaviors of other residents, i.e., daring to sit where my mother always sat in the dining room. I started twisting this question around so as to have my mother tell me about two positive happenings and I would do the same. Weather was always a favorite topic, with her Arizona sun being too strong and my Oregon sun too scarce. Slowly, though, as I listened to my mother's concerns about meeting her schedule or having energy to exercise, I sensed what my mother needed was not a physical make-over but a spiritual lift.

My angel meditations started quite unconsciously. Instead of simply wishing my mother a good night's rest, I remembered the sleep meditations I used to do for my daughter when she was young. These meditations involved fantasy dream gardens, moon light and special stars. For my sometimes lonely mother I sensed she would love a nightly companion like a comforting, gently rocking earth mother. For my traditional mother I knew giving her her own special angels would be the best bedtime gift.

At the end of each call our routine became for me to gather my mother's angels around her bed.

“What do these angels look like,” asked my mom.”

“They're colorfully dressed in blues and greens with shimmering silver wings.”

“What about purple? I love purple.”

“You're right, Mom. Some of the angels have purple and pink flowing gowns.”

These angels would then protectively flutter their wings above my mother's bed and sing her a soothing lullaby. My mother's angels always promised her a restful slumber and wonderful dreams. Later the angels accompanied my mother during her days, giving her a contented, compassionate glow to her daily experiences. After several months of our nightly ritual, I noticed a decided lifting of my mother's emotional mood. She now easily found several positive events to relate about her day. The love between us increased as our “I love yous” became more soulful and deep.

To aid in my mother's meditations, I sent a sweet angel sculpture for her night stand. For her 90th birthday I knew a necklace with a silver angel charm would be just the thing. My mother gushed with praise and gratitude when the necklace arrived: “Oh, Vicki, it's so beautiful, it's so perfect. It's my favorite necklace.”

My mother wore her special angel necklace every day until she passed. As I sat by my dying mother's bed, I sang her favorite Broadway show tunes and shared with her that the angels were present surrounding her bed one last time. And I swear I could actually feel the presence of these comforting souls with me there in the room.

The angel necklace became my treasured remembrance of our loving last years' conversations. I have it hanging on a favorite picture of my younger, smiling mother.

© 2012