The sign my mom used to help my son understand her deathGrandma, are you in pain?” That’s what my son repeatedly asked my mom during a trip to the beach. My husband, son, dad, mom, and I decided to take a trip to the beach before the school year started because both my son, a preschooler, and I, a teacher, were about to return to the classroom and wanted one last summer hurrah. My son, Henry, was excited to ride in the car with his Pop and Grandma, but the whole time in the car, he kept asking my mom that question. My mom, an active, vibrant, *mostly* healthy 62-year-old, kept answering him with, “No, silly, I’m not in pain. Why do you keep asking?” Henry didn’t have an answer to that question. In his childlike wonder, he just laughed and then spent the weekend enjoying the waves, building sandcastles, eating ice cream, finding sand dollars, taking ferry rides, and having fun with his family, who loved him so much. That was the last time Henry ever saw my mom. Exactly a week later, she went into what we thought was routine surgery, came out of it, and then had, for some unknown reason, a stroke which put her into a coma that she never recovered from. She passed away on August 19, 30 minutes before my birthday. The next week was a whirlwind of planning the funeral, traveling for the funeral, and having the funeral amidst the absolute devastation, shock, and grief we all felt over my mom’s loss. As the time came to head back to our home in North Carolina, my dad and I were packing up the car. Henry was playing by himself when we heard him say, “Are you in pain?” We were immediately taken back to the beach trip. My dad and I looked at each other in awe. We both had forgotten all about my son’s asking, “Grandma, are you in pain?” In disbelief, we pondered what this all meant. “Why did Henry keep asking Grandma if she was in pain?” “Lauren,” my dad said, “what did Mom say to Henry when he asked her that?” “I don’t know. What did she say?” “She said, ‘No, Henry, I’m not in pain.” I thought back to what we had told Henry about Grandma’s death. We told him that she got sick and her body stopped working. We told him that she died and is now in Heaven with Jesus. Of course, he would wonder if she was in pain, but little did we know that my mom had already let him know that she would be okay and in no pain. A true miracle. Later that evening, I was having a hard time and missing my mom terribly. I looked up and cried out, “Mom, God, Jesus, please give me some comfort. Just for this moment.” Seconds later, I heard a noise, and Henry walked into my room from his. Silently, he reached out his arms to hug me, and I quietly led him back to bed. I smiled and gave thanks to my mom. I still am so incredibly sad and miss her so much, but I’m thankful for the small miracles and signs she performs through my son to remind me that she’s always near and that I have him, my blessing.
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