Mary Jane died last night. I got the call at 11:30 pm from Michelle, our communal daughter, from Hospice in Phoenix. Retired for the evening, deep in sleep, the chiming of my cell phone penetrated the deep levels of slumber raising me with a start to consciousness. Seeing the flashing object making a raucous sound, laying on my side in the dark not quite all there yet wondering what that irritating object was demanding so much attention. Oh, right, the cell phone.

"Hello Pops." When she dispatched the emotional news about her mom, my head cleared in semi-shock, sitting me up in full attention. Listening to Michelle's telling of the desperate last minutes of her mother's life, brought to mind how fortunate she was to have her daughter holding her hand at the moment of passing. How fortunate she was to have a loved one beside her at such a giant moment in her existence. And how much sacrifice Michelle had made to orchestrate being by her mother's deathbed when she made the big exit. What an unheralded unselfish act of true love it was. Thank you for doing that Michelle.

Listening to her account, it became apparent that Mary Jane died hard, frightened by what was happening, in agonizing pain in spite of the morphine drip, she confessed to Michelle that she didn't want to die. She was tough (and known for her tenacity), but no matter one's degree of toughness, and her's was considerable, when one stares death in the face, only one thought dominates the consciousness: I don't want to die...Survival becomes all things -- all consuming.

With no readable pulse or blood pressure, unable to breathe, bed in the up position, Mary Jane leaned over and grabbed the bed rail.

"Mom, what are you doing, do you need to go to the bath room?!!"

"No", she asserted in a rush of certainty, "it is time to go -- somewhere! I just need to get out of here."

Not ready to meet her maker, desperate for options to live, she laid back as her transfer ticket got punched to the Other Side...Done.

Mary Jane had been battling her sickness for quite some time so her departure as not unexpected; still it surprised me. We all die too soon. She was one tough broad and I thought she would walk on all our graves. The doctor listed her condition terminal. Cause of death listed as pneumonia. She was seventy-one.

Audios me muchacha. Here's a tear for you.

Robert J. Gillespie, 9/20/2013