Always and Forever

"Your Mother is always with you.

She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

She's the smell of certain foods you remember,

flowers you pick, the fragrence of life itself.

She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well.

She's the breath in the air on a cold winter's day.

She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of the rainbow, she is Christmas morning.

Your mother lives inside your laughter.

She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's the map you follow with every step you take.

She's your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you; not time, not space...

not even death."

-Unknown



Nearing Home

Mom is nearing home. A process that we thought may take months, looks like it may take just days or possibly a week. Today mom no longer responded. The hospice nurses came several times today and told dad it would most likely be just a few more days. I'm in a stupor; wandering around the house not knowing what to do with myself. I vacillate between fight or flight; one moment ready to hit something and the next minute I want to run away to "someplace" safe. I'm just being honest here. I believe those thoughts and feelings to be part of the normal grieving process. Where I need to arrive at is surrender. My brain  knows that and my faith in God leads me there, but that selfish human part of me does not. As I said in the last post, this is what I want for her. I just did not realize how much it would hurt. But then Christ was intimately acquainted with that too. When Christ got to the home of his friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus and Lazarus had died the Bible says, "Jesus wept." According to the dictionary the term 'weep' means, "to express grief, sorrow or any overpowering emotion by shedding tears." Check. Did that today too. A dear friend "held me" over the phone while I wept.

In the previous post, I eluded to the "cocoon of Alzheimer's". That arose out of a desperate attempt to explain to my youngest daughter, Lexis then 9, what was happening to her Nanny and what would continue to happen. I explained that Nanny was a caterpillar and that Alzheimer's was like the cocoon that the caterpillar weaves before it can be transformed into a butterfly. I told her how Nanny's mind would become darker and darker until finally when the cocoon was complete that Nanny would no longer be able to talk and would just lie there. I believe that day was today. Then, at the moment that Nanny saw Jesus, she would emerge from the cocoon and be better and more beautiful than ever.  She would know how much she loved and how much she was loved. She would be changed and what we thought to be the end would actually be just the beginning; the beginning of her life eternal. Little did I know that several years ago, mom had discovered a Monarch butterfly just emerging from it's cocoon and showed both Lexis and Landon and patiently explained the miracle that was happening. The beautiful person who shared that with me yesterday had no way of knowing that I've always equated this process with the Monarch or how precisely I had explained it to Lexis. Amazing. God is amazing how he works and weaves this all together.

Last Saturday I got the wonderful privilege of spending some time with mom. Before I left, I went back into her room.  What propelled me there remains a "mystery", but obviously it was a prompting from the Spirit. Dad had started a CD of hymns and she seemed restless in her wheelchair.  I went toward her and put my arm around her. She laid her head against my chest and I just held her, stroked her hair and face and told her how much I loved her. The Old Rugged Cross was the hymn that was playing and I started singing to her. When the verse was over I asked her if she was ready for her crown and ready to see her mom and hold her baby girl. I could attest that it seemed like she nodded her head yes, but I truly have no idea if she did or not. But she was in the mood to cuddle. It was probably only a few moments that I stood there holding her, and it reminded me of a book that I used to read to my children. "I'll love you for forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my mommy you'll be." I used to tear up reading that to them, knowing that some day that would come true. Saturday that was my reality; and it was beautiful. I am blessed.

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suffering and shame;
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best,
For a world of lost sinners was slain.
So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down,
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

It's Been Awhile.....

It's certainly been awhile since I've been here. Almost 2 1/2 years to be exact. Many things have happened since then; job changes, kids that have grown and changed and are now about to leave home, babies have been born and my mom has slipped into total darkness.  The cocoon that is Alzheimer's Disease has nearly finished spinning and enclosing her mind. 

I miss her. 

Part of not writing was the craziness that is my life with three children in about as many activities as you can imagine, but a bigger part still was that it simply became too painful to chronicle her deterioration into near total and complete darkness. On March 11, 2014 papers were signed and my momma was placed on hospice. She is nearing the end of her battle and will soon shed her cocoon.  This is what I want for her after all.... I think. I just don't look forward to the separation from her earthly body until we are reunited someday. That sounds really selfish as I type that. I don't want to hold her here, but I will miss holding her hand, rubbing her back and kissing her forehead. 

I have probably not mentioned enough about my dad. The man is worthy of sainthood, in my opinion. I believe most people go their entire lives without witnessing the type of love that my dad has displayed toward my mom in the last few years. It has been a thing of beauty to watch. What a blessing and a privilege to have a father who loves my mother so much that he would care for her like a parent cares for an infant; to the point that he was sacrificing his own health. Until January of this year, he cared for her in their home. After her second trip to the emergency department in less than a month it was time. As daughters, we thought the time had come long before that, but we wanted to respect his wishes to care for the love of his life as long as he could. It was so hard for him to realize that she would never occupy their home again and it broke our hearts as well. But mostly, I was relieved. She has had absolutely wonderful care and we are so thankful. We are also thankful that our parents had the foresight to obtain long-term care insurance. While still expensive, I cannot imagine how people do it without that. 

Daily, and sometimes multiple times a day, he goes to sit with her. She doesn't know who he is, but he knows who she is. He has tried so hard to encourage her to eat, but she no longer identifies food as a thing of pleasure and I believe her mind is no longer able to interpret hunger signals from her stomach. Chewing and swallowing is difficult and this is all a part of the end-stages of Alzheimer's. On hospice, we no longer have to feel the pressure to get her to eat. Food is, of course, still offered, but if she closes her mouth and refuses to eat, it's okay. She doesn't have to eat.  The hospice nurse has been wonderful; visiting several times a week to bring comfort, honor and dignity to mom and where she is in her life process. Gently they lead my dad through the process of saying good-bye. 

Savoring the moments is where I am these days.  When I rub her arm or hold her hand I try to memorize what it looks like and how it feels. Those hands who were so busy all her life and now sit idly. I had such an intimate moment with her a couple weeks ago, that I can't even speak of it here. For just  a moment God granted my mom clarify of mind, I believe, to tell me everything she would have told me (and all of us) if she had a mind that was well and two minutes to say everything she wanted. And then she gave me some instructions.  Instructions I will never forget and I was able to make her a promise. And then she was gone...back into the darkness of Alzheimer's. I was the recipient of a precious miracle from God and I will carry it with me always. 

I love her. 

We don't know how many weeks or months we have until her earthly body leaves us. But it's alright, because I know the One who does know. He preordained every one of her days before even one of them came to be. God loves her more than we ever could and He will gather her to Himself at the perfect moment and in the perfect way. It will be bittersweet. She has a daughter that she has never held and a mother she has not seen since she was 11. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends will greet her there and what a joyous reunion that will be.  But first, she will be welcomed into Heaven by her Savior, Jesus Christ. The one who paid a debt He did not owe because we all owe a debt we cannot pay and that it is only through His death, burial and resurrection that we can have eternal life. As wonderful as my mother was and for all the "good works" that she performed here on earth, they could never be enough. We cannot "work" our way into heaven or just hope to gain entry because we did more "good" than "bad". It's gift that is offered to us if we just accept it; our faults and all. She would want you to know that.