[pillut48]

My mother died from an aortic aneurysm in 1990. She had a physical the week before and was doing great. I spoke to her on a Friday, we were going to go to lunch for her birthday (which was during the next week) on Saturday—on Saturday morning I got a call from my brother that she had died during the night, which was a complete shock to all of us. My stepfather said she had awakened during the night saying something didn’t feel right, he had been a medic in the Army, so he rushed her to the ER. They took her away to an exam room, came back to him 10 minutes later saying she was gone. No pain, just peacefully gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, none of us did. My stepfather never recovered from that, to his dying day. :*(

We buried her on her birthday. She was 53 years old.

I am so sorry to hear about Bahbah. :*( God is holding her now, and that is a bittersweet joy for those of us left behind. May the Holy Spirit comfort all of us who will miss Bahbah.

I am also praying that Bahbah’s family will recover from the shock of losing her like this. Aneurysms are sneaky, shocking things. :*(

[cubreporter]

Am sorry for your loss. Almost lost a family member to one of those as well. She had a long, hard recovery but she made it. Was not the same as your beloved mother so not sure what hers was exactly. They are awful though and come on you in a flash. That’s the bad part.
Feel really sad for all of you that you never got to say goodbye. I didn’t either with either of my folks. That IS hard to say the least. I take comfort though knowing they know why I couldn’t say goodbye and that one day instead of goodbye we will all be able to say Hello!!

[saveliberty]

Thank you for sharing your story. I am very sorry that you lost your mother and that she died before you, your brother and your stepfather could say goodbye. She was very young.

[Clinging Bitterly]

So sorry to hear about that. My mother died from the same thing last fall, but she was 83 years old and we all knew - not exactly when - but that it was likely to happen, and we were sort of prepared.

Most people don't have the luxury of knowing how they are going to die, and there are worse ways to go than that. My mom dreaded the notion that slowly declining health would land her in a nursing home. At her age, surgery to repair an aneurysm would have done exactly that. So she declined treatment and for her the knowledge of her condition became a sort of comfort in her final months. She kept her independence to the end, and left the bonds of earth without pain or fear.