I got a call this week from a nurse about my 98-year-old aunt. My aunt has been in a nursing home for almost five years after a fall that broke a bone in her upper leg and left her too weak to walk. The nursing home has taken excellent care of her over the years and has been trying diligently to keep COVID out of the facility, but despite lockdown precautions, recently cases have been rising. Thus far, my aunt has been in a wing that has been free of the virus for which I have been grateful. When I got the call though, I assumed that I was being notified she had COVID. I did not expect to hear that she had suddenly died.

It was the hospice nurse that had called as my aunt has technically been in hospice care for several weeks now due to a gradual decline. The assumption was that sometime in the next six months, my aunt would pass, and I knew that it was likely that I would not be able to see her prior to that. I certainly was not expecting this to happen just a few weeks into hospice care at the nursing home, so the news was a shock.

By the account that was told me, my aunt passed peacefully without a struggle, in fact without any warning. In the morning, the staff noticed she had a bit of congestion. They put her on some oxygen and had ordered a breathing treatment for her. They were in and out of her room so just a few minutes must have gone by when one of the staff noticed she had stopped breathing. It must have happened quickly. The staff has since confirmed that my aunt tested negative for COVID just a few days earlier, so the death was of natural causes; I am so glad that she did not die of COVID.

Just in June, six weeks ago, I sat with my husband’s elderly relative who passed away while I was with her, also non-COVID. Likewise, there was no struggle, just a drifting away. I think we all want that…just to breathe a last breath on earth and then drift off.

My aunt would have turned 99 around Labor Day as she was born in September of 1921.  She was two years older than her sister (my mom) and lived almost five years after my mom died. Being able meet my sisters a couple of times a year in my hometown to visit my aunt has been an important part of working through the grief of losing my mom (my Dad died 15 years ago) and selling the family home I grew up in.

I am sad that I was unable to see my aunt again. My sisters and I had planned months earlier to meet this past April, however of course by then, nursing homes were all locked down for COVID safety. The second to the last time we saw my aunt, we had a special time with her in that with music, we were able to bring her out of the fogginess of dementia to where she knew us. I wrote a blog about it here.

My aunt had a strong faith. For the last few days, I have been thinking about what happened when my aunt left earth and opened her eyes in heaven.

My aunt had advanced macular degeneration and was blind except for perhaps seeing some variations of light or shadows. She would have opened her eyes in heaven and been able to see. After a decade of living in darkness, how wonderful it would have been to look around at the stunning beauty that was in heaven…light like we have never seen here on earth, color variations that we can only dream of down here.

Next, she would have seen her husband that she lost 32 years ago and my mom. In the blur of excited hugs, it might have taken a few moments to realize that she was standing. No wheelchair. That must have been so exciting to realize that she could walk again. She used to love her long walks around her neighborhood.

At some point, she would realize that her dementia was gone; her mind would be as clear and sharp as when she was a young woman. She would then realize that she no longer had the 98 year old body that she was trapped inside moments earlier; she had a younger, healthy body that could run and jump and shout and sing and praise as exuberantly as she wanted. She probably did all those things before family and friends led her toward the wonders that await us in heaven.

Best of all would have been meeting face-to-face, the One who has loved us since the beginning of time, the Light of Heaven. My aunt may not be known to many in this world, but she was the kindest, most positive spirit I have ever known. I have no doubt that she was embraced with a “well done, thou good and faithful servant.”

My aunt is home. I will miss her, but I would not for anything wish her anywhere but where she is now.