An anniversary is coming...

It's been almost a year.

ALMOST.

To the day.

That we first heard that she had cancer, not a stroke. That she would not be able to live on her own any more. That she had a "prognosis" not a "diagnosis"...

Things have changed. The world news cycle has clanked along. We are fine, then not. Remember her and then forget. Share a memory, and then hurriedly change the topic.

SO glad that we are normal.

It's been almost a year.

And there are days it is still very hard.

To God be the glory.

Storm Walking

I understand the grieving process and its effect on the human soul better every time I process another piece of this pie.

I do not understand it all, mind you.

Recently, I heard a song by the Christian band Leeland and the words spoke to me...

When the storm is raging all around me

You are the peace that calms my troubled sea

And when the cares of this world darken my day

You are the light that shines and shows me the way.

Oh the beauty of Your majesty

On the cross You showed Your love for me...

Beautiful Lord...

...it is your mercy that has made me free...

Beautiful Lord...

I am encouraged this day. Hope you are too.

winter and never Christmas

I just pondered some thoughts on joy and grief this morning. Yesterday I found snowdrops growing beside one of the honking big snow piles next to the house.

Snowdrifts.... that seem like they will never melt.
Snowdrops... that remind me that spring will come.

We have Aslan with us... it is the end of "winter and never Christmas"

It's just that right now, there's a hell of a lot of snow to melt. On the ground, and in my heart.

Just being real.

snowed under

We have not had the mail or the paper for five days (since we just got hit with 24+ inches of snow in a county that panics with 2 inches!) The lawyer called us and asked why we had not sent back some "time-sensitive" papers. We had to explain...

Nope. No mail. No papers. No deliveries. No power (back on now). And no snow plow either...

We were talking about how a storm of this magnitude would have scared her to death. How we would have worried (does she have heat? does she need groceries?) and wondered if we could get her safely to our house.

I miss her. Still.

Feedback

Tonight we visited the high school to discuss next year's courses for one kid, and ran into several people who hadn't heard the official word that she had passed away. One of them, a neurologist, simply held my hand and said, "I am so sorry. There's no easy way to live through this." And that was all he had to say. It was enough.

You know, that was really wonderful. I didn't have to exchange platitudes about how she is "in a better place" or some well-meaning "I'm sure it will ease in time." Yes, both of those phrases are true (and I have even said them!) But what our friend said was just enough...

Afterwards, a school counselor caught me and told me that our kid had been in twice to talk to her since Thanksgiving and was in a grief group during lunch. She said, "I offered, she accepted. I hope that is OK." I said, "yes, she asked us what we thought and we encouraged it." The counselor said, "you are doing a great job - she tells the group how you process grief together and I can't thank you enough for trying to do that. I know it's hard."

I don't know as we have really 'done' much -- we talk. We look at pictures. Sometimes we cry. And then we go about the rest of the day...

But, the feedback really helped me know that she's doing OK, and we're doing OK too. I feel a bit of relief. We are a "public family" since I am in the ministry, and I know people watch to see "how does the pastor handle it." A little bruised and battle-weary, but we're doing OK.

Hallelujah.

The list goes on...

I don't know... I think I want to sell my house, "as is" and "all contents convey" when I'm about to go see Jesus. There's just so much to do to close out a home...

She did an amazing job of sorting through "stuff"... I shudder at what my children will have to do! (sorry kids...) There's really no piles of "stuff" anywhere to sort, box and bag, but there are collections of things that she couldn't part with because they were "still good."

Under that category, we have:

• hair curlers (three colors, four sizes)
• hair dryers (the old bonnet style? check. TWO of them? check.)
• ironed and folded old (used) wrapping paper
• the bags that the paper came in every morning (about two large shopping bags FULL)
• plastic grocery bags (about 10 bags stuffed FULL)
• twist-ties, neatly sorted by colors into coffee mugs (four mugs FULL)

That last one was what put us over the edge and we laughed until we cried...

But there's a lot of really really good things...

• clothes, shoes, sweaters, coats, belts, socks, panties, bras
• material, thread, findings, scissors
• books, paper, office supplies
• plastic food wraps and bags of every description
• furniture - dressers, bed, sofa, coffee tables, lamps, artwork, desk, chair, kitchen table
• kitchen - microwave, cart, pots, pans, mixer, dishes, silverware

We have to have everything out this week... We're both exhausted.

God gives grace. And provides tissues! She had 8 boxes in a closet. We've wept our way through this...

Oh. One more thing.

I'm a pastor. Not a SINGLE PASTOR that I work with has called, emailed or come to see us. Not a SINGLE PASTOR has sent us a damn flower.

It made me angry. Really angry.

And then it hit me. I'm the one who takes care of the hurting, the grieving and the hospitalized.

Who pastors the pastor??

hard to know what to say...

She is much worse, and less outgoing. Even from 24 hours ago, there has been a change.

I tried to visit her today. I held her hand and touched her a shoulder. She turned away from me and said, 'no. no. no.'

I asked, "are you hurting? do you need something?"

'no. no. no.'

"would you like me to sit with you a while?"

'no. no. no.'


I did any way. And every few minutes, she would look at me and say, 'no. no. no.'

"no" to living another day?

I don't know.

I will go visit tomorrow...

The kids...

So I took the kids to see her for the first time since she got out of the hospital. In a little over two weeks, there has been a shocking change. I guess I didn't see how BIG a change until I saw her through their eyes....

Mom. She can't close her mouth. And was she drooling?
Mom. She doesn't finish her sentences.
Mom. Why won't she walk?
Mom. She's not eating very much.

The unspoken statement was practically shouting in the silence... How long does she have??
And my unspoken answer... We don't know...

It was hard. Hard to hold back my tears in the face of theirs. Hard to explain how the body gives up life in stages. Hard to express words of hope and trust in a time of a certain end.

I explained hospice. I introduced them to the social worker. Their assessment: "She is so ditzy." (Yeah. They are right. She is!) They want to make cookies for the nursing staff.

I knew I had to be there to help them walk this road through the valley of the shadow... but it was incredibly difficult.

Thanks be to God for words and courage when I need it.

Thanks be to God...

Thanks...

Can I just SMACK someone????

I shared with a group of people that she has an inoperable tumor, is at peace, and is ready to be with Jesus. Immediately they started praying and "coming against the spirit of defeat"...

I was stunned. to. silence.

Finally, at the end of the very long-winded prayer, I said that we were happy to have them pray for healing, as long as it was for her ULTIMATE healing, when she would be in heaven.

And then I got up and left the room.

It isn't "giving up" to be at peace.
It isn't "wishing her dead" to be ready to let her go.

I wanted to just smack someone.

I guess it is a lack of life experience? Or they have never been with terminal cancer patients?

sigh...

Unbelievable. What a mess.

So today we went to try and help our relative work through some bills, because she has not yet relinquished fiduciary responsibilities to us. OK, that's fine, if she would pay the bills. But she got very upset and claimed that none of these bills were hers and someone had stolen her identity. She never ordered all these magazines and she never buys things from the TV.... (as she sits there in her QVC sweat suit with cats all over it... oy).

I stepped out of the room to let him talk her down off the cliff... and stood looking out the window at the end of the hall.

Oh, God, this is hard... I was thinking. And a nurse came up and asked, "are you OK?"

No, I said, but I will be. Then with a shrug, I told her we were trying to get our relative to pay bills and it wasn't going well.

She touched my arm, smiled and said, "I'll be right back."

And she brought me the instructions for how to file for mental incompetence...

You know, I'm just not there. I can't say it yet.

The woman with the brilliant mind is NOT gone. She's not...