Days

When I think back and try to remember days of my life it is hard to distinguish certain days and events, but I have a few that stand out. Some of them blend together as a clump of days in a specific month, like March of 1994. There was so much "stuff" that happened that I can't remember what the details of each day were. I can recall some. I had my first surgery on March 25th. I started chemotherapy on March 29th.

There is another time period of my life when time seemed to slow down. It was August of 2001. Grandma was finally dying after a long battle with Thyroid and liver cancer. It was the middle of the month when we signed up for hospice care, the 14th to be exact. I knew time was limited and so did she.

We wasted no time. Every moment she and I were awake, we were talking and laughing. We went shopping for lysol and paper plates. We talked to God. We celebrated pain free days and restful nights. We cried when the pain was bad and things were frustrating. We stayed up late into the night watching TV and talking about "current events." We cleaned and organized her "papers". About a week into my time staying with her, we watered flowers and moved potted plants closer to the glass door so she could see them from the house. I loved my time with her. All else seemed insignificant.

Starting on August 14, 2001...We got up early everyday, had coffee on the porch and enjoyed those summer mornings... One at a time... Waiting...

Those mornings, all 46 of them, were a gift. Birds were singing and playing in the bird bath. Squirrels chased each other all around the yard. Jackson would watch at full attention. The neighborhood children arose from their sleep and started playing outside. The flowers smelled sweet and the coffee did too. Sometimes it was chilly and wet and other it was hot and muggy. Some mornings smelled of fresh rain. Others of freshly mowed grass. In the distance the train went by. During these time I begged God silently to spare her life, to make this my eternity. For it was here that I felt love.

September 29th was our last morning on the porch. When the day began I knew my alone time with her was close to an end. This was the day that all of her friends and family came to visit. She was a wake and had no pain all day. She waited on people and cooked food. She welcomed each visitor (If I were to guess, I would say that we EASILY had 50 people in and out that day!)with a hug and a smile. When each guest went through the doors I saw a piece of her leave when they did. By the end of Saturday, she was so tired. She went to sleep that night and didn't get out of bed again.

Sunday was the last day I saw Grandma. No coffee. Just words of love and a kiss. It was so perfect I didn't go back. I couldn't bear to ruin it.

Grandma died on October 2, 2001. When my dad called me I sad OK and hung up. I was at a friends house that day. I looked at her and said "It's finally over."

I have learned a lot since my mornings on the porch... More than I thought I could ever learn from such joy and such pain.

The most significant? I can pursue God on my own. I don't need to be told who God is and what He does... I can know on my own.