THE SPIRIT DOLL HAT
Ann Wills DVM

"A story of cancer, resilience and Enlightenment"

FORWARD
    by Daniel Von Hoff, MD

What you are about to read is an eye witness account of a journey that all of us will be taking to the end of our lives. It is about the final journey of Mary Marn Allison who was one of us.

As you read these pages you will be amazed at the resilience of the human spirit and befuddled at how many times we think something will turn out one way — and it doesn’t! It offers insight and comfort about what lies ahead for each of us.

. . .

PROLOGUE

It is curious and amazing to me that people can appear for such an instant in time and change our lives forever. They are meant to be with us at that exact moment. And though your physical connection may not remain, the spiritual connection can never be broken.

There are no coincidences.

When a baby is born, we are filled with joy. We don’t wonder where they came from, or agonize over where they were before they became part of our lives. But when we lose someone close, we search for answers. Where have they gone? Are they alright? Will we ever see them again?

This is, though, the circle of life. Death is not the completion and birth the beginning; they are both natural transitions of the soul within us all. Those we love may be gone from our sight — but they do not leave us — and I know now that one day we will be together again.

So my story of love and loss and grief might not appear unique.

Until Mom met Carol.

. . .

FROM THE BOOK

You are never prepared. Then the phone rings and in that very instant, your life changes — forever….

I found Mom’s room in the oncology wing of the hospital. That moment when I entered her room is one of those moments that will be forever etched in my memory — my mother, lying there in that hospital bed, frail, frightened and alone. But that wonderful smile of hers came over her face….

The first few days at the hospital in Tucson were, strange as it may sound, joyful. Mom and I talked about so many things. We shared a closeness that I know now could not be duplicated in another time and place….

The neurology resident was young but very competent, his voice somber as he delivered the expected news. “The swelling in the brain is extensive. The tumors have grown and there appear to be areas of hemorrhage around them. Your mother will not come out of this coma. There is nothing more that we can do for her here in the hospital. You should think about taking her home now (to die).” …

I wanted to stay here with Mom, on this beautiful serene hill — forever. …

“You girls are very lucky to have your mother back with you. She was supposed to die last night,” Maria said….

The interstate was wide open. We talked about our trip, remarked on the scenery, even played road games reminiscent of car trips when I was a kid. Interstate 10, east from Tucson through southern Arizona and New Mexico, is a desolate stretch of road, the desert landscape barren and severe. The population is sparse and towns are few and far between. We had been on the road for almost two hours now. The road signs indicated there was a good-sized town 20 minutes ahead. We would stop for breakfast there.

Then Mom said she needed to stop now. She needed to use the restroom. I asked if she could wait, we would be at our breakfast stop in just a few minutes more. No. She couldn’t wait. The urgency turned into panic. There was a truck stop ahead; we could pull off there. I got her out of the car, into her wheelchair and into the ladies restroom.

And there she collapsed….

Walking back to Mom’s room one of the nurses approached Cathy, “There is a woman here. Her name is Carol Locust. She is a faith healer and spiritual counselor, of sorts, here at the hospital. She helps people that are dying — and she helps families, such as yours, to cope with their fears of losing their family members. Would you like to see her?”he asked.

We all readily said yes. And another miracle in this strange and wondrous journey was about to take place.…

And so, Carol came to meet Mom.

There are no coincidences….

Aunt Ann offered to take us all out for dinner. I was reluctant to leave Mom’s side, but I knew now that she wasn’t alone….

And I knew, without any doubt, that it was truly Mom’s time to leave this earth and begin her life beyond. I knew it because she had said so. There was no more supposition; no interpreting the vital signs; no doctors’ prognoses.

Mom knew she was leaving us — very soon. Looking back now it is still stunning to me what strength and compassion she had to orchestrate this event….

Important moments in one’s life are seemingly frozen in time. You remember where you were, what you were doing and you can go back there to those memories and touch and feel them like it’s today….

. . .

FROM THE EPILOGUE

You may have read this book because you are grieving the loss of a loved one. If so, I am sorry for your loss. You may be searching, as I was, for answers to the great unknown. It is a personal quest. I hope my story can help you find your own inner faith and peace.

If you have a loved one that is nearing the end of their time here on earth, I urge you take time to express the things that matter. Let go of the past. In the end, there is only love. I pray that you can find the courage to face the uncertainties that accompany this dying process. There is nothing to be afraid of. Death is just a beautiful spiritual transition back up to Heaven.

Or, God forbid, you yourself may be facing the diagnosis of a life-threatening illness. I wish you peace — for I know that should your time come, your loved ones, those faces familiar to only you, will be there to help you in your own journey.

I have no great wisdom, but I can share with you the story of my mom — a story of love, and peace, and faith.