Bridget Rose Yohnke

By Miles Patrick Yohnke

© 2019 All Rights Reserved.

Just before 1 a.m., Aug. 31, 2019, wearing an optimistic yellow t-shirt that she had received from CTV television (Saskatoon) in the '00s, with the words: "In Motion" across its front, my dear Mother took her final breath on this dear earth.

She departed from home. At peace and free of pain.

On Friday, Aug. 30, at 12:15 p.m. she said she wanted to go to the washroom and insisted she get up to do so. She hadn't been out of her apartment-sized hospital bed since Wednesday, nor had she eaten any food since Monday. I was scared to see her attempt this but I just couldn't tell her so I only replied softly, "okay."

With a little assistance from me she got herself out of bed. I held her steady and we both walked together, softly and slowly, having a few small slips from time to time. Luckily though she made it without falling. She did her business and gathered herself again. I went in to her bathroom after having retrieved a wheelchair in her complex, placed her in it, and we returned to her final resting place.

On May 16, 2015, Josh Donaldson (then with the Toronto Blue Jays) had said, "We are not in the 'try' league, we are in the 'get it done' league."

Just 12 hours before her transition, this example of Mom not wanting to have an "accident" in bed was her way of showing me once again to 'get it done'. She never once wavered from excellence and self-motivation in all of her 87 years. She always "got it done" and did so with gargantuan grace, dignity, and self pride.

Her last Friday afternoon on earth, Aug. 30th, she gripped the railing on her bed and pulled herself upright, looked at her clock, and settled back into her bed asking me "when do you think I'll go?" I replied, "only God knows Mom." She would repeat this two more times that afternoon before she departed.

Some years back, Mom told me that as a child she enjoyed the fresh smell of wet mud and that it triggered a dance of joy within her being. "If I were a kid still, I am sure I would eat it," she said.

While in her transition from earth to heaven - it was most fitting: it rained.

Thursday afternoon, Aug. 29th, I cried. Mom tapped me on my right wrist twice. She didn't say anything, she didn't need to. It was her way once again of saying, you have to keep it together. Not for her. Not for me. For them. You have to help them. Guide them to "get it done." That we are all here to serve Him.

I told Mom I loved her a lot those last days. She would reply, "Thank you." At first I was disappointed that I didn't hear "I Love You" back. I had feelings of "selfish" that "me" and I was missing the whole point of it all. I finally understood her last teachings to me here on earth. For fifty-five years I was always by her side and Mom was thankful for that. Thank you encompassed far more in this situation than "I Love You."

For fifty-five years she was my mother of strength. Since her departure her strength is still living inside my heart. In fact, it is deeper, heavier, and stronger. I believe if you foster relationships with Him and any other that this will be the outcome.

My mother was from Landis, Sk. and my father was from Biggar, Sk. My parents met at a dance in the town between the two towns named Traynor, Sk. Two hearts danced as one.

Dad was taken from her during a horrific mining accident when Mom was just 36. As a couple they were in their prime. Just gaining their stride. She never remarried or even dated after our loss. Her sole love was her husband, Francis Lewis Yohnke, and her three sons, Kenneth, Robert and I.

I had always hoped that there was a heaven, and if there was, I knew my father would be there. I loved my mother so much through my life and often pondered what her departure would be like.

Mother always believed there was an after life. Through her remaining hours on earth God also bathed me with that belief. I physically and spiritually watched the wondersome transition: it was heaven bestowed upon earth. A dance on through to another realm.

"Come! dance now, my love, dance with me!"

Now, 51 years later, my loving parents are having that eternal dance once again forever.

For my mother: Bridget Rose Yohnke (March 28, 1932 - August 31, 2019)