Last Gift

Posted on Thursday, May 28, 2026
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by Robert B. Charles
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Old Hand Care Elderly. A young hand touches and holds an old wrinkled hand

In the hubbub of life, two weeks ago, I got a call. No warning, a lady long thought of as my second mother, healthy a week earlier, was in hospice, two strokes, time short. I was there in the hour. “Lord, teach us to number our days…” Psalm 90.

When I got there, she was vaguely responsive, in and out. I knelt beside her, breathing shallow. We have all been there. If you have not, one of life’s seasons. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1.

Her eyes were closed. Speaking beside her, memories washed over me, fifty years with her family, husband, and two sons, cycling, ice fishing, skiing, cutting wood, clearing trails, shooting, hiking, laughing around their supper table, her cookies.

One of her sons was there, the other and her husband having gone on before her. He told me of her convictions and of his. I told him mine. Tears came, as they do.

He said he wanted to pray. We had a small icon of Our Savior. In these fleeting moments, when time is suddenly so very precious, the whole world seems to stop.

We think about His promise again, His words, and console each other with them. I am reminded of The Beatitudes. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4. We know this, yet we struggle with it.

Later, I re-found other verses, read them slowly, put them in context, remembered that this mortal world is fleeting, even as it celebrates its importance.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16. John recorded a lot. “And this is what he promised us – eternal life. John 2:25.

Jesus had comforted his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” John 14:2.

Paul writes to the Corinthians: “Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed – in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” As I read that verse, I thought again of Handel’s Messiah.

The promise of a loving God is expressed in dozens of verses, including Paul to the Thessalonians 14:3. “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.”

The last reference may be in Revelation 21:4: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Still later that same night, my mind drifted to Lazarus. I love Lazarus Saturday, always the week before Easter. For some reason, his story – Christ going to the home of his friend, brother of Martha and Mary, dead already four days, and raising him on the spot, always brings me to tears. There is was before them. “Did I not tell you if you believe, you will see the glory of God?’ John 11:40.

So, two weeks ago, I knelt beside this wonderful lady, being called home, mother of my two friends, second mother of sorts to me, embodiment of Maine and the traits that attach to the quiet and the faithful, somehow hanging on despite all.

I told her my childhood memories, expressed my love and gratitude for her, made clear who I was, reminded her that her son was nearby, and held her hand. She could no longer talk, was surely preparing, but her eyes opened, and a small smile formed. That was her last gift, and I will not forget it. Soon, she was on her way.

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!

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