MommaBlogga Writing Project Thank You Mother

In late 2000, The call came in from my Friend. Honor your Mother and Father in the Land of the Living that it might go well for you.
He implored me to forgive.
It is the Role of Mother and Father we are to Honor. Who the person is or what they may have or may not have done was to be irrelevant.

What a friend!
He hounded me that only when I saw this act completed would I have the Peace I so longed for. Every time I went to talk with Him, He would say . Pretend your visiting Jesus in Prison.
A low cost nursing home was a lot like a prison. Closed by isolation, age paining every inch of her body she was a soul in torment.
I had made a vow! Never would she ever touch my child. Never ever would I ever let her touch me again!
He told me that those vows were foolish and that they were bringing death into my life. It was time to let go and renounce those old vows. This wa a struggle and I won by choice not by feeling.
So I knowing full, well how very, much My Dear Friend had my best interest at heart obeyed Him. He said go , I have no choice but the choice to do what is right. That is a choice made long ago one that has served me well no matter how bumpy a road I have walked in it.

Sitting there in the waiting room, the nurse came in in a very defensive stance. So good to see a defender there for this imprisoned soul. I much preferred it to a guard that has no compassion. I breathed deep. I am simply here because it is the right thing to do, I told her.
In a wheel chair the prisoner approached, how it made my skin crawl to let her touch my hand. I pretended. I saw like thorns upon her head, a wreath of her true heart, one that was repentant and grieved of her effects upon my life. I still had to pretend. I thought of the sacrifices HE made. I saw Him only like a man unjustly accused. She was forced to obey the evil, and at times choose too, this prisoner my Mother. I still had to pretend. I left that day having poured a large expensive flask of oil upon her head. The price I paid for that oil is so extreme that it is no longer a debt it is paid in full.

I returned again with my husband and child I obeyed my Friend for it was at His insistence that I return to the incarcerated soul. I however kept my vow, she did not touch my Dove. I kept that one at bay defensively, a promise made to God. My husband stood beside me as I staggered away from the event and held me up as the whipping of the guards hit my back to guard against it hitting hers.
Two more visits and a puffer fish who kept me in check at the dining hall table. It would remind me that it was Jesus I was visiting here. Humor kept me , removed me and embraced me. Love overcame all the stench and wreckage of a life torn into shreds.
At Christmas I went back again with my family keeping my word, no touching my child. I'll go visit "HIM" again. Once more alone and when my child and her daddy left the room this prisoner said. "I had written it all Donetta ,I told of what the K.K.K. had done" "I told it and ,so and so, burned the manuscript." "I'm so sorry sweetheart You told the truth and no one believed you".
"TELL, DONETTA TELL ALL! Please tell all so that it will stop!" she said. This prisoner then dropped the veil that was Jesus and her face was then exposed to me. I saw her. It was safe to.

One more time in February I was told to go. I left here at once and arrived to a fog of a human, I told her of my son to come of an adoption in progress..."She then said..it wasn't my fault they killed him (speaking of my elder sisters twin) I heard the doctor say just keep her impregnated and then she will forget it... I NEVER FORGOT DONETTA, I didn't tell on them but I never forgot"
My child said I want away from here Mommy < I left.
When I was at rest my Friend said again," be ready she will die soon". I set arrangements so that childcare could be in an instant
Two days later the call came, Mom is in the Hospital she is dieing a sibling said to me.
I secured Dove and left to go to say good bye. Around her bed were yapping dogs and awaiting vultures. ( I may make some enemy's here but this is my truth) as I entered the nurses were fatigued of it. I placed my hand on her back and she later told me how grateful she was for my presence. It was my Friend who came with me, Invisibly Present Palpable He NEVER LEFT MY SIDE. When the gruesome tasks were to be done I secured a Social Security Number and walked away back to her. Bedside the nurse looked at me in amazement because every time I entered the room her rates came down and she would stabilize.
I was chosen to go in the ambulance with her to the Hospice. As we drove I hummed and sang hymns softly to her. The driver put the radio station on a Christian channel with the song of "How lovely on the Mountains are the feet of those..." we drove into the East toward the crystal clear mountain range.
She passed there at hospice.
It was three days later. My husband was with our child and he was in the process of the plant closing. He was not able to be there for me emotionally. My child was secure, some would touch her( my mothers) legs saying "see when its like that it means that she die soon, I held my tongue, biting it. I used the sponge and gave her water. It reminded me of Christ on the Cross.
In the next bed was an Elder gentleman with his passing bride. It was only us four in the room . I gave him my chair, and sat in a cold steel folding chair. "Momma", I said if you are with Him tell Him What you would like me to sing.
Out of my mouth came...
"She'll be coming around the mountain when she comes, She'll be riding six white horses when she comes's, Oh ! we'll all go out to greet her, Yes Well all go out to greet her,Yes we'll all go out to great her when she comes.
Thank you Mother when you were a prisoner you spoke the truth and set me free.
Thank you for turning to Him in the end.
Thank you that one day we'll all come out and meet.