Good morning…
Over the past several months, we have prayed diligently for my mom to pull through surgery after surgery and, gratefully, she is now slowly healing at home with my dad. At the same time, two other friends have said “goodbye” to their mothers on earth, releasing them to God’s eternal care in the home of heaven.
“Good morning Sue,” one friend wrote this week from Florida. “My heart breaks for the University of Georgia community and all those who suffer in confusion. I’m finally coming up for air after 6 days in hospice with Mom after a sudden turn followed by her finally going home to be with Jesus on Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day. The past two weeks have been two of the hardest losing my Mom not even a year after losing my father. I read an article recently that said dementia is “one of the most unsettling ways to leave this world.” There is just no easy way to go through it. But Proverbs 20:13 is a promise God fulfilled: “open your eyes, and you will have plenty of bread.” It came in the form of nurses, and sermons, and prayer cards, and hymns, and friends, and strangers. God wove it all together to sustain our family in the most precious way.”
She went on to explain one portion of bread she received on a day she needed it most.
“As we were moving Mom from assisted living to inpatient hospice, I took her Bible with me,” she explained. “It was filled with funeral Mass prayer cards from friends and loved ones. One in particular would become a special part of Mom’s funeral service. My grandfather on my father’s side had this beautiful poem on his Mass card.”
******
Togetherness
Death is nothing at all – I have only slipped away into the next room. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is absolutely unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of your sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near just around the corner. All is well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before – only better. Infinitely happier and forever – we will be all one together with Christ.
******
The mother of another friend recently passed away after being depleted by Alzheimer’s for years. She wrote me this week: “I thought you would like the poem in this email…I cut and pasted it for you here…”
******
some types of sadness by Cleo Wade
some
types of sadness
appear and vanish
a quick hello & goodbye
some
types of sadness
linger like a moon
cycling through its phases
in your being
full
half
a sliver
barely there
but there
do not lose hope
for on the darkest night
the lightless moon
is also
the new moon
something is on the way
******
While my mom gains strength and balance and regularity nestled in their earthly home in Ohio, other mothers have slipped away into the next room. We do well to listen for the whisper of their resurrected voices.
Something is on the way.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
All is well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost.
Jesus said: “Don’t get lost in despair; believe in God, and keep on believing in Me. My Father’s home is designed to accommodate all of you. If there were not room for everyone, I would have told you that. I am going to make arrangements for your arrival. I will be there to greet you personally and welcome you home, where we will be together (John 14:1-3, VOICE).
Whether healing whole on earth or waiting expectantly in heaven, we are all one together with Christ. All is well. All is very well, my friends.
…Sue…
P.S. Another portion of bread my Florida friend fed from regularly is the Christy Nockle’s version of “Be Thou My Vision.” Might you also let your soul be fed for a few sacred moments?
