Not the Goodbye I'd Planned, But the One God Wanted

Roxane Salonen missed the opportunity for a final farewell to her beloved mother-in-law, but experienced special consolation from God. 

We were beginning to sense that my mother-in-law Bev’s life might be nearing the end, and we’d come to the hospital where she’d been moved from a larger facility further away, with hopes of offering her love and comfort. 

Her prognosis had been confusing. After heart surgery on her birthday on Oct. 15, 2024, and a surge of hope, things had begun taking a turn for the worse, and it was seeming like her medical team was running out of options. 

Adding to this, because of her increasing struggles to breathe — her lungs kept filling up with fluid; still an unsolved mystery — her anxiety was climbing through the roof. 

Not only a mother-in-law, but a friend

I have been blessed to have one of the best mothers-in-law in the world. Bev and I not only both loved her son and our children, her grandchildren, but we had so many things in common: our love for music and singing, our introverted ways yet enjoyment of pouring into friends and family, and our zeal for Jesus. From the beginning, she encouraged me, buying me a beautiful leather attaché case when I graduated from college just months before I wed her son, telling me she believed in me.  

Whenever something good, or bad, happened in our lives, she wanted to know about it so she could add it either to her prayer list or her gratitude journal. She was a light to our whole family, and we weren’t ready to let her go.  

One friend, who’d never met her but who noticed how much I adored Bev, commented on a photo of the two of us on Facebook after Bev’s passing, “This was a Naomi and Ruth level relationship! I've never seen one in the wild until now!”

It’s true, and I would have loved to have her with us much longer. But I think she was more prepared than the rest of us. Months before her series of hospitalizations began, I slowed up on my usual texts and emails, sensing that she needed quiet and calm, now, most of all.  

About a month after her surgery, two of our sons, my husband and I went to visit her. She was more alert than our last visit, but her eyes lacked their usual brightness. I sat closest to her, offering as much tenderness and love as possible. 

A final prayer and blessing

As we readied to leave, I bent down to hug her, and asked if I could sing a prayer over her. It’s one familiar to a faith-sharing group I’d been part of for years; our common “send-off” whenever one of us was facing a surgery or other major challenge. “May God bless and keep you. May God’s face shine on you. May God be kind to you and give you peace.” She smiled, thanked me, and that was it. The four of us piled out of her room, assuming we’d see her again soon. 

My husband got that chance, thankfully, but the day I was set to visit her, a couple hours from our home, a blizzard erupted. It only lasted a day, but that was the one day I was free that week. “Why, God?” I asked. But I knew I had to trust him, despite not understanding. 

Three evenings later, on Dec. 7, my husband interrupted my treadmill routine to deliver the devastating news. “My mother is gone,” he said. I had the typical reaction of someone learning their loved one has died. Disbelief. No! She was not my mother, but I considered her my “other mother.” I could never understand how some disparage their mothers-in-law. I’d always felt loved and accepted; even cherished.  

Regret followed. I would not get that last visit. Why? Why God? It seemed a pure desire. I didn’t understand.  

I still don’t know the answer to the question, but not long afterward, He helped me find peace while doing my daily post-Christmas Oriens meditation. We were to reflect on Numbers 6:24-27. I read it slowly, reflectively:

The Lord bless and keep you! The Lord let his face shine upon you and be gracious to you! The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace! 

As I began journaling my feelings about these words, and what God wanted to say to me through them, I realized that these were the same words that were my last to my sweet mother-in-law. This was a blessing God had instructed Moses to speak to Aaron and his sons, promising to bless them in turn. It suddenly hit me: I’d offered this same blessing to Bev, who was closer than I could have known in that moment to meeting the Lord. 

My last words to her were not what I had planned. Instead, they were God’s words. The last words she heard from me were not whatever imperfect sentiments I could have offered, but God’s own consolation, meant for her to hear and receive. 

I am now at peace over the last words I would speak to this beautiful woman on earth, for they are God’s perfect words, and I can trust, with confidence, that she carried them all the way from her heart into his arms. 

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Copyright 2025 Roxane Salonen
Images: (center) copyright 2025 Roxane Salonen, all rights reserved; all others Canva