I have a suspicion that Harriet knew she wss dying. For four or five days earlier, she had a bad case of the flu. On the day she died, she woke up feeling good. She planned to go to the dining room for lunch.
But around 1130 she said she wasn't feeling good. She was going to take a nap.
I checked on her every hour or so and could hear her breathing. Once, around 3, she heard me and said, "I love you."
On my next visit, around 4, I heard no breathing. I couldn't wake her up. I called 911. She was gone.
In retrospect,, her "I love you" feels like a goodbye.
There is a part of me that does believe she knew. I remember our phone call on Friday and although it was brief because she was leaving for Dinner in the dinning hall, it was strange. Different than usual. So much so that I actually told my husband later that evening, that mom seemed different on that call. Everyone of her friends I have spoken to, that had either seen or called mom in the last month or so, all said that they got a sense from her that she was "at Peace". That she was happy with life and felt she had done all she wanted to do and now was just content being an old lady hanging out all day on the couch with her best friend-you. I know she was not afraid of dying. We spoke about it occasionally. Sometimes I almost got the impression that she looked at it like another adventure she was both prepared for and curious to explore. My beliefs about death are vast. On one hand I believe we reunite with people we love up in the universe, just floating around watching over other loved ones who are still here, and on the other hand, I believe our souls enter a new life and the cycle starts all over again. Either way, I see her smiling, and her thought's free and clear of any brain fog as she explores her new surroundings.
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