We Grieve But . . .
Not as those who have no hope.
Just left seeing my mom.
She’s ninety-seven and has not been out of bed for over two years.
She can’t remember who I am even when I see her again within twenty-four hours. I think memory of me fades in just a few moments after I leave each time.
She smiles sweetly as I tell her I’m her second son. Then I tell her where I live and that I’ve flown to see just her. I go on to tell her what a wonderful mother she was for me and my brothers and sister, and that I love her very much. She keeps staring at my face and smiling with the bright face of an innocent child. She puckers her lips and we peck a little kiss.
When will she leave us?
Nobody really knows.
What’s the point of her life now?
She inserts an important reminder into our family about what it means to be us. She asks from within her infirmity what is it we care most about. She helps us teach our children and grandchildren what love looks like even when it isn’t easy, isn’t fun.
Her irreversible condition here raises a host of emotions and prayers. We don’t like this situation and yet this is the current hand we have to play and so we will walk through this valley together.
And I know we aren’t the only ones and we aren’t the ones who have it the worse. If you have a tear for me and mom, I appreciate it, but you live in the same world we do. I’m sorry you are going through whatever it is that causes your eyes to tear up.
Now, I’m generally a pretty stoic got-it-together sort of guy. At times I just think it’s the blessing of cluelessness. Because my norm is dry eyes, when I tear, I try to imagine this to be the cleansing touch of God. I have no real proof of this, but it certainly helps me accept tears better when they inevitably come. It draws me toward my Heavenly Father instead of away, because I figure, if Jesus would go to a cross for me I can patiently wait for the better days he promises are ahead for all who mourn.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Revelation 21:4 (ESV)
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Addendum
I flew home on Sunday and my brother called me in the afternoon as is our routine. He goes into Mom’s room (she lives with him downstairs in a little apartment outfitted just for her and her needs) and he calls each of her other three children. The calls are brief but keep us all connected. Mom at the front end of today’s call thanked me for coming. A sweet little blessing at the end of a good visit.
Very kind Roseanne. Thank you.
What a beautiful tribute to your mom Ben. You demonstrate what it is truly like to honor your father and mother. But also how to honor the Lord -even in the hardest of times.