by Sharon O | May 4, 2010 | Uncategorized
Day four … the vigil continues.
Mom O is peacefully quiet.
She is still with us only more subdued and more ‘out of body’ then in. We watch the process and we are amazed at her fortitude. Although we are tired and weary we wouldn’t miss this opportunity of sharing something so spiritual with each other. Watching someone you love pass from this life to the next is difficult and hard on ones heart. The roller coaster of emotions so draining. But it would be ‘more’ difficult if we were not believers for we know that where she is going is so much better than where she is leaving.
We are prayerful as we watch and wait for her to ‘let’ go.
Life as she knew it is now only a memory stored in our minds and hearts. Dad still has his hand on her head and rarely leaves her side. It is a love story played out in photo albums full of black and white photos portraying a life time of family memories. It is like a spiritual journey that is now ending.
Soon she will be home with Jesus. I can see her now as she enters the gated city. The host of angels will sing and shout as she walks into a new and wonderful place. Her son will greet her with a wide smile and happy heart and say, “Happy mothers day mom.”
Welcome home.
Mom O we will miss you.
by Sharon O | May 1, 2010 | Uncategorized
Today
Was a different day for mom O. She rested more unlike yesterday when she would crochet and tear it out, crochet and tear it out ripping and tearing by the minute. She was more alert and eating too. She wanted pepsi and pepperoni and she wanted dinner. It was like a rushing moment for her and different in character. Like a strong wind outside at night moving the trees back and forth and then the next morning calm and peace as if it never happened.
Today she only had water saying ‘I am not hungry’. The dance of death so difficult to learn. The moves change so quickly when one is so close to the ‘final goodbye’.
I sit in the dining room alone in my thoughts. The house is quiet.
Others are taking a break while mom O rests.
I see Dad O go to her side; he takes his old man hand and brushes her hair on her face as he balances himself on the arm of the chair with his cane on the floor. She sleeps and I am not sure if she feels his gentle man hand on her head. He rests his hand so gently on her forehead, and moves it around to her face. Almost like he is checking for a fever.
I am in tears by now my eyes watching a gift of love and tenderness.
My heart aches for their love once known. Almost 61 years they were together.
Are the pictures flooding in his mind? Years of memories of children being raised playing as the reel to reel movie camera flood his mind. She canned and cooked and washed and cleaned and sewed. I wondered what he was thinking as he looked into her ‘dying face’. I dared not ask for I was in tears without a word I knew if he began to speak to me I would weep.
For their love was special.
Ma and Pa to six children five boys and one daughter. I could not relate to their closeness when I first met them. It was foreign to me.
I remember nightly my husband and his son would call and say ‘how are you dad?’ my mind would say… ‘you just talked to him last night why call again?’
My family not close so it was unfamiliar to me.
We lived by rules and conditions and they lived by love.
Love that spoke caring and concern and ‘how was your day today?’ questions. Every day a check in call would take place.
I have learned by being in this family that love is always.
Love is relational.
Love has no conditions only to be kind and gentle and forgiving
and to be in relationship with each other.
I have learned a lot by being near this family.
His heart will break in many pieces when she leaves her resting place to go home.
I believe he will be at peace, for her suffering will be over. But it is not to say it will be easy or kind to ones heart when a loved one passes from us. They have been together for many years through sickness and health and richer and poorer. They have been a couple till death will part them.
In tears tonight I looked across the room and saw love. It was gentle and peaceful and kind and ever so tender. I cherished the moment through my tears.
Jesus be with her as the Angels take her home. Help her to feel no pain or feel no restlessness. Give her calm. Let her go peacefully and bring to dad a new ‘soft gentle’ awareness she is home and safe and peacefully asleep in your arms. We love you mom O.
amen
by Sharon O | Apr 30, 2010 | Uncategorized
The process of leaving this life is labor intensive.
The dance of death a daily experience as the loved one continues down a path of release, of letting go and giving in.
There is a fight that goes on between spirit and will and it is so very clear to watch the battle that is raging within the one dying. It is heart wrenching and painful for those caring for her.
Unlike the intensive labor process of contractions and breathing and monitoring and waiting for the ‘new’ baby to arrive. This is an ongoing process of waiting for the last breath to take place.
In the midst of a sacred place, a spiritual holy moment, there is agony. The loved one knows they are leaving and they feel the body shifting away from what was once familiar to them.
The will gets trapped within the dying process.
Last night Mom wanted to go out for dinner again. She told her kids “dad and I are going out tonight”… we know she can’t do that so they calmly said to her,”someone else is bringing us dinner is that ok?’ … she hesitated and said ‘ok’.
The dance of death takes away what the thought process brings forward
and what was once a normal request is now an impossibility.
I think back and it was only two weeks ago when she did indeed walk with her walker and sat in a restaurant chair and looked normal.
That choice is no longer an option.
I think that is part of this dance that is so painful when the choices get slowly taken away from the one dying. Last weekend she tried to stand up and walk to the bathroom, and she fell.
What was normal now is not. A catheter now helps in that process, for movement is difficult and painful. It is a slow progression of taking away something. Even pain medicine takes away a sweet personality for the side effects are not often helpful or pleasant.
Last night she became crabby and a bit snappy, I reminded them it is the medication.
Dad who is 88 can’t quite take in the changes that have removed his loved one from him.
He holds her hand and tries to calm her. When the boys couldn’t do what she wanted, she pleaded for dad to do it. He has been put on strict orders to not do anything without them.
He is very unsteady on his feet and to have him fall or get injured would only complicate the situation for the family.
Death is near. Mom lies in her bed and reaches in the air. Her daughter said she is trying to take hold of the angels. Even the dogs lie next to her chair and look above her as they growl or yip softly. They can see the spiritual around her. Her daughter says the angels are here.
Death is near.
The hardest part for those left behind is watching and waiting.
by Sharon O | Apr 27, 2010 | Uncategorized
I am reading the book ‘Waking the Dead’… by John Eldredge.
It is extremely thought provoking and I highly recommend it.
He says: “When you tell a story you speak to the heart”, which was a validation for me.
Since I began to write the intention of this blog was always to not just share or write but to challenge and provoke thought for those who are reading it. It has been the vision that the Lord has pressed upon my ‘heart’ to be authentic and real and in that process challenge others on the same path for spiritual maturity.
Speaking of heart… John says: “Without the burning in our hearts we lose the meaning of our days.”
In 2 Corinthians 4:18 it says: ‘So we fix our eyes on not what is seen, but what is unseen.’
Our eyes are to be focused on spiritual things.
The problem we face is a war for our burning heart conditions.
We can’t see clearly if our heart is not right.
John said there is a war against our hearts.
It is powerful and ongoing for the enemy does not want us to see clearly the war surrounding us and he does not want us to know about the battle or the efforts against us every day.
John says: “Gods intention for us is life so you must fight for your life.”
He says we are to join in the spiritual battle and fight for the life that is before us.
John says : “We don’t see clearly because we don’t see with the eyes of our hearts.”
Without seeing with the eyes of our hearts, we miss what is important.
In Ephesians 1:18 it says: ‘I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened.’
So it is an intentional process of focusing and keeping our eyes clear with clear vision.
The eyes of our hearts can become cloudy and blurry just as our eyes condition can become blurred. Like glaucoma of the soul we can lose sight of what is burning in our hearts.
The deep longing to be in relationship with a Holy God and to be in relationship with a Holy Spirit and a Holy Savior.
Have you ever had a professional eye exam? Can you remember the feeling when they do the check for glaucoma? How you have to steady your head on that chin rest then wait for them to blow that puff of air in your eyes? It is uncomfortable and you really take notice for it is strange and weird experience and a bit scary.
Perhaps it is a time for a puff of air into our hearts so we can see and feel the purpose that is before us.
God created us to be in relationship…
we were the ones who moved from that purpose.
In 2 Chronicles 16:9: ‘For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.’
Can you imagine with me how He searches… and seeks us out so that He can strengthen us.
Just as it is our desire to encourage and strengthen our loved ones or friends, it is God’s desire to strengthen us.
That is relationship and a powerful reminder for us of His love.
My challenge:
‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.’ Deuteronomy 6:5
I challenge us all today to love with intention.
by Sharon O | Apr 26, 2010 | Uncategorized
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back into loneliness. Of all the needs a lonely child has, the one that must be satisfied, if there is going to be hope and a hope of wholeness, is the unshaken need for an unshakable God. The above quotes were from Maya Angelou ~ a wise old soul. These words are very similar to my experience growing up. I don’t remember feeling lonely but I always remembered feeling alone. By nature I have always thrived when I am alone in the quiet. I can think and process thoughts much better than in a room full of activity. So perhaps the child hood experiences were not all without purpose. If I was alone always I am afraid my own company would become boring. As a child music was indeed my refuge. In my room it became my escape. I could pretend I was Diana Ross standing next to the mirror lip syncing to the songs. Or I could sing and meditate on the words of Simon and Garfunkel, “I am a rock, I am an Island… a rock feels no pain and an island never cries.” I never did either. Music was my escape. I could go into my room turn the record player on with the black slick albums and escape as the record would turn and turn as the needle played the songs. Escaping into quiet was my way of creating normal. A quiet normal full of music that ministered to my ‘hurting heart’.
