Once in a Lifetime

The church was nearly full that Sunday morning. Services had started when the door opened. It was the first time in my life I heard the minister pause the service in mid sentence. We turned around to look back at the door and saw her in a wheelchair working her way slowly up the aisle with her husband of 50 years behind. Her gray hair was uncombed and slighty greasy. She was dressed in her night gown. Her face was full of stress and pain and her skin was yellow in color.

One by one we broke out into tears. Some were sobbing slightly, some had a single tear working its way down their cheek. Church services re-started and we sang an extra song at the end, What a friend we have in Jesus, her favorite song. She then spoke with a crackled voice. Many didn’t hear or couldn’t make out her words. Her words were of passion and what Jesus had done for her and she gave advice to Believe because it’s a wonderful thing.

This lady was my Mother. On October 17th, 2004 she passed away from pancreatic cancer.

Two weeks prior to this I was preparing for a “once in a lifetime” moose hunt in Minnesota. I had attended the local gym and worked my cardio two times a day for a couple of months and even at the weight of 265 lbs I could jog 3 miles. I have always taken hunting serious, and this trip was extra special because obtaining a tag for Minnesota moose was a once in a lifetime experience.

I received the phone call early one Saturday morning in September. It was from my Mom. She asked me to come over and explained there was something wrong with her and she told me Dad wasn’t home from work yet. She wasn’t feeling right and had some severe pain. She didn’t want to go to the Doctor, but she knew something was different. I knew something was different. I had been awoken from a deep sleep just moments before our conversation and there I sat on her feet listening to her words.

I asked her some questions and then I suggested she go to see the Doctor, she took my hand and said she was scared. Her lips were trembling and without saying a word we sat there together in the early morning hours. I then reminded her and suggested that she attend the Father Hennepin annual fall picnic today. Family gatherings were her favorite. I told her to go and enjoy the gathering and if she feels this way again that she needs to see a doctor. She made the fall picnic and mentioned afterwards about the wonderful time she had.

It was just a few more days when I got another phone call, this time my Dad was home from work and he called. “Mom has severe back pain”. I walked through the woods on the trail between our houses. We brought Mom into the local hospital and from there they transferred her to Duluth. There they found cancer.

They told her she was in the very last stages of pancreatic cancer. My brother and I were heading north for our once in a lifetime moose hunt and prior to leaving I made a stop by the hospital, in many ways to say good-bye even though I didn’t want to admit it. But also for her to wish us luck during hunting. Mom was always passionate and wanted to see all the game animals us boys harvested over the years. Often she would have a pot of chili made and ready for us, sometimes it was eggs for breakfast, and other times it was fresh baked goods.

I remember once I took a nice 8-point buck and we backed the truck upto the door. Mom came out with the camera and took pictures. She brought out a package of the white powdered doughnuts and we all sat on the tail gate of the truck reminiscing about that mornings hunt. Another time I had a taken a black bear and I think she called everyone in the neighborhood to brag me up. Another time I arrowed a spike buck and Dad helped me drag it from the woods. Mom took our picture and she had the photo enlarged. It hung in their house for many years in a frame. Being the youngest and raised with 5 other brothers and 3 sisters – I admit I was spoiled.

Our moose hunt was scaled back to half the time. We canoed through the boundary waters and took in the peace and quiet. The weather was crisp and clear. We didn’t talk much about Mom, but I know our minds often were on that topic as we paddled across the lakes. Our hunt was unsuccessful, as far as game goes. But it was one of the most beautiful experiences.

Upon our arrival back home, Mom’s condition has worsened. She was at home but her medications kept her from much content in conversation. When she saw us, she looked at us like she wanted to ask a question. Moments later, she pointed and asked “Did you guys ever get that Elk?” I smiled, probably the biggest smile in awhile. I told her it was a great hunt but we didn’t see any Moose. We hunted for Moose. In that short time her mind had wandered and I am not sure she even heard me.

The next couple of days were crowded with people and emotions. Friends, neighbors, and relatives came in and out of the house saying their goodbyes. On Mom’s last full night, I had the honor of overseeing her. Dad and I were up all night. Dad had a breakdown and I heard him remind himself that “everything will be alright”. There is nothing sadder than the sound of someone struggling to breath and there is nothing you can do about it. The minutes of the night turned into hours and the night progressed.

The following day was much the same as the night. My brothers and sisters were home all day and the following night was my sister and sister in-laws night to oversee Mom. I got the knock on my door just after midnight. Mom had passed away.

I sat up in bed and Kari hugged me, she told me to go. I slowly walked the path in the darkness to the house. We whispered, in respect I suppose. We hugged. We had a great sense of relief. We were hungry from not really eating in days. Someone asked if we wanted a pizza and soon we were all in the house and several pizzas were made. We ate and we started singing hymns at the top of our lungs.

“What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and grief’s to bear! What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer! O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”

My once in a lifetime moment. We miss you Mom!