Her Final Breaths
I had the exquisite opportunity to be present with my Mom during her final hours. She had already outlived the time she was given when diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumour – she was such a strong and amazing woman. Her passage home began on Wednesday around noon, and for 40 hours, we were beside her every moment as she processed.
For my sisters and me, it was torturous. She was exhaling strongly, with that unsettling rattling noise. Her breaths were rapid and with each exhale came a moan. The first night we thought for certain she would pass before morning, but the next day it kept going. By the next night, all we could do was pray to my Dad that he take her so she could be held in his arms, dancing like they once had.
I was resting in the room beside her listening to her breathe, it was about 2:30am at this point. I was feeling such anxiety, it was as though she was running a marathon. The power of her exhales hadn’t ceased but seemed to increase. Then it struck me: she is getting rid of all the unfinished business that wasn’t worked out while here, so she could pass through with purity and complete openness. Once I felt this, I became calm.
A short time later, I only heard silence. I went to her room and there she was, still and peaceful. All her struggles had ended.
It is said that we are born into this life with a signature posture, and it is the goal of this life to break through this. My interpretation is that we are born with the mother’s breath as it will indicate the trajectory of how we age. This is what connects genetics to the body as the breath will determine what parts of the body receive oxygen. If the mother’s breath was laboured during pregnancy, then the baby will inevitably struggle to breathe fully and completely. We all came in laboured to some degree, but we can all change the foundation we were born with by releasing the adhesions that have locked your breath in the pattern that now feeds you, through fascia decompression.
My mother hadn’t embraced this practice. As amazing and strong as she was, she wasn’t a conscious breather. For the 40 hours that she was working to pass, the intensity of her exhalations was overwhelming. I couldn’t have possibly done the work her body did on purpose, as it felt like she was sprinting non-stop. But I truly believe in this time, she worked out all she needed so to be free to leave this world with no business unfinished. I believe she was able to break through her signature posture so to step into the next phase with complete purity and openness.
I will never know for certain what she witnessed, if she had conscious awareness of these final hours, but rest in the knowledge that she is now in a place of pure joy.
I want to thank you all for the love and support you shared. This community means the world to me -- you all give me the strength to move forward in life with purpose. Here is a poem that one of our members, Debbie Leslie, wrote when my Mom was first diagnosed:
Mother
Mother - like fascia embracing each cell -
She has felt every sorrow
And rejoiced every triumph.
She has nurtured every dream
And marked every milestone.
She is the co-creator of each memory
Your witness in this life.
Mother - like the depth of your breath -
She has anchored your heart
And grounded your soul.
She has strengthened your spirit
And made visible your faith.
She is a lighthouse illuminating dark spaces
Guiding you to yourself.
Your Mother knows your deepest essence
Because each cell that you have beautifully aligned
Was hers,
Is yours.
Breathe & Believe
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