Prayers answered

Though we were sure of Amanda's faith in Jesus, by affirmations through conversations we have had, her love, her actions, her convictions, I had often prayed that God would give me assurance that my daughter was safe in His arms when she died.  I’m not sure what I was expecting but wanted it to be evident.  Both Sandy and I had, in the days prior to Amanda’s passing, been praying that when the time came, God would also be merciful and not allow Amanda to suffer over an extended period of time, but that her passing would be peaceful and quick.  Our prayers were graciously answered on the morning of her death.

The morning of August 6, 2014 Sandy was home with Amanda,  I was getting off work, and Brandon was in McGregor staying with family.  Amanda had been up most of the night, not sleeping and on a routine dose of morphine to help with comfort and breathing.  Sandy said they had a good night together, watched movies for most of the night and at one point, even joking about it being an all-night girl’s slumber party.  She saw no indications during the night that Amanda was taking a turn for the worse, so the events of that morning were very unexpected.  Sandy contacted me at about 8:30 as I was leaving to come home telling me I needed to hurry that Amanda was not doing well and that she thought this was the time. 

I got home shortly after Sandy called me and Amanda was displaying several signs that she was having increased difficulty breathing.  We contacted the hospice nurse and had some oxygen brought over by the EMS Commander.  We had a CPAP machine for Amanda that she would occasionally use, but this morning she had become dependent on it to breath.  We placed the oxygen over the CPAP intake and the combination seemed to help her shortness of breath and her color pinked up.  We called PaPa and MaMa Watson to get Brandon and bring him home.

PaPa and MaMa Smith were in town and were going to bring Amanda breakfast from Chick-fil-A, which was a favorite of hers.  They arrived at the house and shortly after, the hospice nurse did also.  Amanda wanted to eat but we did not allow her because of her fatigue and the concern with her choking.  The nurse confirmed she was in a declining state.  We were able to give Amanda some morphine to help her breathing and make her more comfortable. 

During this time of watching our daughter struggle to breath we gathered around her expressing our love through tear soaked words.  Our fatigued daughter would open her eyes and tell us things like, “Why are ya'll saying that, why are ya'll crying, I'm not dying yet.”  We knew differently as signs were pointing to her body trying to compensate.  We made sure we told her everything that was on our hearts as she lay there in bed. 

Amanda then began to “taste food.”  She laid there rolling it over in her mind what it was she was tasting.  Initially she said it was something mom had cooked before.  She eventually said, “No, it's a chocolate Krispy Kreme Doughnut” which drew a laugh from everyone.  A moment later she said, “I taste Lawler.”  We asked, “What do you mean you taste Lawler?”  She explained how what she was now smelling was so familiar that she could taste it.  She then said, “Such sweet memories.”  (Lawler is the church we attended for many years.  This is the church she accepted Christ as her Lord and Savior and was baptized.  Her Papa Smith is also the pastor.  It will always be a special place to our family.)

It was about 9:45 when Amanda surprised us all with the words from seemingly out of nowhere, “I'm dying now.”  She also commented on how things were becoming whiter.  But instead of becoming clinically worse or anxious as one might expect with someone facing death, there was a new look in her eyes.  She was completely alert with a look of awe and wonder.  Her once fatigued voice was now clear and filled with amazement.  These expressions she had cannot be stressed enough because it was so evident;  AWE, WONDER, and  AMAZEMENT!  The first thing she said was “Tell Brandon I love him so much.”  At that time we called Brandon and put him on speaker phone.  We told Amanda to tell Brandon what she told us.  We expected her to tell him how she loved him but shocked us when she said, “Brandon, I'm dying!”  In her voice you could tell she wasn't afraid but confident.  Brandon responded with, “You'll be okay, I'll be home soon.”  Then she said, “I love you Brandon.”  She went on giving us very specific directions:

--Don't forget her or stop talking about her

--Tell Brandon he could have her breakfast from Chic-fil-A

--Celebrate her birthday with a birthday cake with her picture on it every year

--Brandon gets to blow out the candles

--Have pink, purple, and baby blue roses on the anniversary of her death and when they die to put the petals on her grave

--She wanted a red crepe myrtle planted (something we had discussed prior but she couldn't decide on the color)

--Leave her room the way it is, then she added; “but clean it up”

--Have Brandon decorate her deer horns

--Give Ginger her favorite stuffed animals, Puppy and Panda, so Ginger can smell them and not forget her

--Buy her a present at Christmas and let Brandon open it.  Make it candy so he can enjoy it.

--She gave specific instructions for MaMa Smith on how to decorate their Christmas tree with her personal ornaments (each grandchild has an their own box of ornaments to hang)

--To tell her young cousins and the “December baby” about her so they wouldn’t forget her (our sister-in-law is due in December and Amanda called it December baby)

--She said she would tell baby Sam about us and make all of us Christmas ornaments, even the Smith side (baby Sam is her cousin who was stillborn in July, 2011)

--Give Romeo his halter (Amanda’s horse she rode at ROCK)

--Make sure Romeo is taken care of and gets fed

--She told us not to cry and be sad, because she was going to heaven.  She told us she wasn't afraid.

It was a steady stream of instructions until she paused and said “It's getting whiter.”  She then began to describe what she was seeing.  “I can see the pearly gates.” she said next.  She then looked up at Roy and said, “Don't cry Papa, it's not good-bye, but see you later alligator.”  All during this time, she told us over and over that we shouldn't be sad but that we should be singing and rejoicing because that is what they were doing there.  She then said, “The gates, they're opening!”  “It's beautiful. It's just like you said Dad.”  At that point she said, “They’re green.”  Sandy asked “What's green?”  She told us there were grapes everywhere and that they were green and tasted so sweet.  She said, “That's what it means, that's what it means: “I am the vine and you are the branches!”  She saw a big table set with food on it.  Sandy asked her, “Like a feast?” and she said, “Yeah, like a feast.”  She again added, “And they're rejoicing!”  She mentioned seeing Grampy and that she saw a black horse. 

She then said she was seeing a book, that it was a bible, and to read it every day.  It was at this point she was beginning to drift asleep and as her eyes closed, and her breathing slowed the last thing she saw was another big white book.  After that her voice faded and she closed her eyes. 

~Thomas

We wanted to see her face, so Tom removed the CPAP  just so that we could see her.  As we knelt there next to her in the bed, it became quickly obvious that without the CPAP and oxygen, her time would be short.  Wanting Brandon to get home in time to say goodbye, we put the mask back on and she pinked back up again.   Words don’t express my relief when Brandon came running in the room.  We told Amanda that Brandon was there that he had made it home.  She was able to open her eyes, but she didn’t speak.  Throughout the day, the three of us stayed very close to her while family arrived at the house. 

The nurse told us that the last thing to go is hearing, so be sure to talk to her.  Thomas, Brandon and I did that all day.  Family came in one by one to say their goodbyes.  Late that afternoon, she opened her eyes one last time and asked us to take the mask off.  It didn’t take us long to realize her time was coming to an end with us here.

How do you prepare yourself for this time?  How do you comprehend that the child you carried in your womb, gave birth to, who brought you joy you never knew imaginable was leaving this earth?  You don’t.  You can’t. You are just there, clinging to every moment, every second and begging God for it not to happen.  But it happens and all you can do is simply keep breathing. 

As the nurse told us that it wouldn’t be long, grandparents stayed in the room and a few immediate family members while Thomas, Brandon and I snuggled as close to her as we could.  With quiet praise music playing, we were silent, sitting with her, holding her as she breathed her last breath and knew no more pain. 

Peaceful.  Heartbreaking.  Prayers answered.  Amanda didn’t suffer, she wasn’t in pain and the end wasn't as I feared it could be. God was merciful.  

Tom had talked about how he had prayed that God would give him some assurance that she was safe with Him.  He likened it to sending your child on a trip and wanting a call to know they had arrived safely.   

We were given so much more.   

We were given the opportunity to personally drop her off at the gates of Heaven.  

^{Luke 18:16-17}
But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”