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.