I wrote this Friday, then forgot to put it up yesterday...silly me!
Exodus 20:12 Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
So today we celebrate mothers. There are many kinds of woman out there and many kinds of mothers, but there is only one kind of godly woman, mother, and wife. I am blessed to have had one of these exceptional woman for my mother.
Proverbs 1:8 My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and
forsake not the law of thy mother:
There are many more similar verses in Proverbs that tell us to obey, honor, and listen to our fathers and mothers. I have given this some thought lately and I've realized that it isn't so much about honoring these wonderful people in our lives just for the sake of doing it, or even because they gave us physical life. No, but because they have raised us according to the Word of God. They instilled in us right from wrong, good from bad, they taught us the forgiveness of Christ, a humble dependence on our Heavenly Father, and they showed us how to live the Christian life by example.
God be thanked that I had a godly, Christian mother. She is sorely missed everyday and I hope one day my children can say the same about me. I am the woman, wife, and mother I am today because of my own mom. The memory of her sweet, quiet nature still bolsters my heart. Strengthening me to carry on and to do the thing that is right, but even more than just right, Biblical.
2 Timothy 1:5 When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith
that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and
thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.
This is the way God designed the home and the place of the homemaker. She has the honor of staying home with the children showing faith in Christ by example day in and day out, through the ups and the downs, 24/7. Thank you, Lord, for my beautiful, gracious mother.
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Monday, May 13, 2013
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Mom, life & Heaven...
It has been a long time since I wrote from my heart...there is a lot of sadness, pain, and things that I just don't understand in this life. I still miss my mom, sometimes as much as when she first went home to heaven and sometimes I go days or weeks between really thinking about her at all. Have you ever lost someone so close to you? Do you understand that it's not just the person, but the life you had before they died that you also miss?
We had many months and, even years, to prepare for Mom dying. She was sick for 4 1/2 years with her brain cancer (once it began showing new growth) and then her breast cancer. We spent hours, and perhaps days, wondering if today, this moment, was her last moments. She went from unable to talk and semi-conscious, at times, to being alert and even able to talk some.
Our kids were used to sitting at Grandma's side and knowing she may be leaving to heaven soon. We were used to spending many evenings singing as a family. We were used to praying fervently for Grandpa, Grandma, Marissa, and Marita. We were used to the uncertainty of the next phone call. Would this be the call that would change our world forever?
But when the time came, it was more subtle than we expected. It came so quietly that we were left wondering if this was just another bad spell or the real thing? Personally, I had prayed for years that Mom wouldn't have to suffer too much. She did though. She suffered so much. And she "chose" to suffer even more by doing radiation and chemo both with uncertain results (and at least one had very uncomfortable side effects). All for us. Especially for Dad, Marissa, and Marita. She lived the meaning of love.
I remember a phone call I had with Dad about 3 weeks before Mom died. I think it was a Saturday or Sunday morning. I may have called him to see how things were going, I don't remember. I do know that our conversation turned to Mom and he voiced how bad she was doing. She wouldn't/couldn't swallow her pills, eat, or drink hardly at all. He was worried, but he had just taken her in because of a second stroke about 1 month earlier and there was no new growth in her brain. So he was thinking that this is it. This is life. I need to "buck up" and deal with it. I told him that it was time to sit by her side and love her. I think I knew instinctively that she was nearing the end. But he was unable to believe this. I think it was a combination of not wanting to, and the fact that she had held on so long.
I believe it was this same weekend (August 20th) that we visited there and Mom was so tired. She was in her wheelchair, but she was bent almost in half, her chin practically resting on her lap. Dad was a little upset because he couldn't get her to take her pills. I bent down to look into Mom's eyes and I asked, "Are you tired?" She answered, "Yes," she was. Dad decided to put her in bed, but ran to the bathroom first. While she was sitting there waiting, a kitten came scampering through the kitchen, sliding on the linolium floor, and Mom chuckled. She was still in there, but just barely.
It was this evening that Mom told my family "bye". We decided to head out the door as Dad was changing Mom behind the curtain. So I called through the curtain that we were leaving. Our youngest, Damara, was already sleeping in the rig. And just because it was easier, we had the rest of the kids in the rig too. Dad said to wait, that Mom wanted to say bye.
So, reluctantly, we waited. I know it may sound bad, but the truth was that it was getting so hard to see Mom suffering that sometimes it was just easier to rush off and pretend all was well. So, that was my intent. To leave while they were busy and just shout bye on the way out, but God had other plans.
Carson & I went in to say bye and Mom got upset. She started trying to say something, it came out kinda jumbled up and I wasn't sure what she wanted, but suddenly she motioned toward the door and I heard "Missy, Mindy!" Somehow I understood she wanted to say bye to my kids. So in they all came, Carson held Damara who still slept, and Mom hugged and kissed them all goodbye. I know I hugged her before we went and laid my head on her chest. I think I had tears in my eyes too, but it was so common to cry in my heart, even if it didn't show on my face, that I don't remember for sure.
About a week later, we learned that Mom was indeed dying. The growth in her brain was to the point that all we could do was wait. She would likely be leaving us as soon as 2 weeks. It was Friday, August 24th, Mom & Dad's 34th wedding anniversary when Dad brought Mom into the ER. And Sunday the 26th when we later learned that she was really dying. It was surreal. I didn't cry, moan, or wail. I think I just said, "Oh," when I heard. I was so weary of seeing Mom suffer that it was kind of bittersweet news. I had peace.
Then began the best two weeks of my life. Yes, you read that right. The very best. We were at the gates of heaven with her waiting for Jesus to come take her away from her pain and her suffering. We sang, we cried, we sat by her side. Finally we began to sleep the night there. All 50, or so, of us at times. We started taking turns sitting up at night so she would not be alone when she passed. And also so Dad could sleep in peace knowing we'd alert him right away if she was passing.
God had it planned that she would breathe her last breaths on a hot Friday afternoon in September. I don't know for sure how Dad knew, but he called the boys (my brothers) in to gather around Mom. He said the time was close. Mom was quiet and peaceful. She was on hospice so she had morphine and other drugs to keep her comfortable. We sat by her side and soon it was apparent that this was really it. Mom was meeting Jesus at that very moment as we watched!
I cried outloud for several (maybe many?) minutes before, during, and after her death. I thought, "Oh, Mom!" It was hard to finally say goodbye. My kids all heard the commotion. They said later that they thought we were laughing, but they soon realized it was crying they were hearing instead. They came in to say goodbye too. I don't really remember it all, but I do know that I was holding Damara's socks and crying into them. And amidst the sadness I remember my elation at Mom having won the victory. She now was safely on the other shore. For her, the fight was over. She had truly arrived. Words cannot tell you the absolute beauty in this thought for me. Mom was HOME!
(Mom's Heavenly birthday is coming around again....September 7th, it will be five years!)
So much has changed since then. We attend a new church, (for reasons not our own), Dad found a new love of his life, I've given birth to two babies that Mom will never meet and lost 3 to miscarriage, Clarissa has lost a baby and been diagnosed with an incurable disease, Missy & Mikey have moved away, and my brothers seem to have dropped off the face of the earth.
We do not sit at the feet of Jesus so often now. Death is a little further away from our day to day life... and we have lost something. We have lost our "vision". Our eyes begin to stray to things of this earth so much more. No one is sitting at death's door. ( I want to note here that Abigail Rose could very likely be, but she is not the Mom of this family, and does not affect all our lives like Mom did. I hope you understand, Clarissa). So we have an anchor in heaven, but we sometimes get weighed down with the burden's of this life and forget to look to our heavenly home and the time we will be going there too.
I used to think about being on the other side of Mom passing, wondering if life would ever be "normal" again. It is normal, but it is not too. It will never be "normal" again. Mom will stay in heaven, my life will continue on, my kids will grow-up and move away, the world will keep moving toward that great day when Jesus comes to take us home, and in the midst of all this the world will continue to grow worse and worse as the Bible says. But we rush on, running the rat race, and hardly giving time to God. Do we learn of Him, as he has said? Do we hear his still small voice in the everyday hubbub?
My heart cries to be freed from this crazy, busy life. Is it just me or is there others out there who wonder what is the value of this race? And is it meant to be a race? Are we meant to rush on, days at a time, giving no thought to the day we'll be asked to give account to our Heavenly Maker? Where is the daily bread? Where is the fellowship? Where is the peace and calm? Whatever happened to Sundays spent talking around the Word of God and singing? What will become of us, or our children without this "family of God"? Can we continue on so carelessly and still make it to Heaven someday?
We had many months and, even years, to prepare for Mom dying. She was sick for 4 1/2 years with her brain cancer (once it began showing new growth) and then her breast cancer. We spent hours, and perhaps days, wondering if today, this moment, was her last moments. She went from unable to talk and semi-conscious, at times, to being alert and even able to talk some.
Our kids were used to sitting at Grandma's side and knowing she may be leaving to heaven soon. We were used to spending many evenings singing as a family. We were used to praying fervently for Grandpa, Grandma, Marissa, and Marita. We were used to the uncertainty of the next phone call. Would this be the call that would change our world forever?
But when the time came, it was more subtle than we expected. It came so quietly that we were left wondering if this was just another bad spell or the real thing? Personally, I had prayed for years that Mom wouldn't have to suffer too much. She did though. She suffered so much. And she "chose" to suffer even more by doing radiation and chemo both with uncertain results (and at least one had very uncomfortable side effects). All for us. Especially for Dad, Marissa, and Marita. She lived the meaning of love.
I remember a phone call I had with Dad about 3 weeks before Mom died. I think it was a Saturday or Sunday morning. I may have called him to see how things were going, I don't remember. I do know that our conversation turned to Mom and he voiced how bad she was doing. She wouldn't/couldn't swallow her pills, eat, or drink hardly at all. He was worried, but he had just taken her in because of a second stroke about 1 month earlier and there was no new growth in her brain. So he was thinking that this is it. This is life. I need to "buck up" and deal with it. I told him that it was time to sit by her side and love her. I think I knew instinctively that she was nearing the end. But he was unable to believe this. I think it was a combination of not wanting to, and the fact that she had held on so long.
I believe it was this same weekend (August 20th) that we visited there and Mom was so tired. She was in her wheelchair, but she was bent almost in half, her chin practically resting on her lap. Dad was a little upset because he couldn't get her to take her pills. I bent down to look into Mom's eyes and I asked, "Are you tired?" She answered, "Yes," she was. Dad decided to put her in bed, but ran to the bathroom first. While she was sitting there waiting, a kitten came scampering through the kitchen, sliding on the linolium floor, and Mom chuckled. She was still in there, but just barely.
It was this evening that Mom told my family "bye". We decided to head out the door as Dad was changing Mom behind the curtain. So I called through the curtain that we were leaving. Our youngest, Damara, was already sleeping in the rig. And just because it was easier, we had the rest of the kids in the rig too. Dad said to wait, that Mom wanted to say bye.
So, reluctantly, we waited. I know it may sound bad, but the truth was that it was getting so hard to see Mom suffering that sometimes it was just easier to rush off and pretend all was well. So, that was my intent. To leave while they were busy and just shout bye on the way out, but God had other plans.
Carson & I went in to say bye and Mom got upset. She started trying to say something, it came out kinda jumbled up and I wasn't sure what she wanted, but suddenly she motioned toward the door and I heard "Missy, Mindy!" Somehow I understood she wanted to say bye to my kids. So in they all came, Carson held Damara who still slept, and Mom hugged and kissed them all goodbye. I know I hugged her before we went and laid my head on her chest. I think I had tears in my eyes too, but it was so common to cry in my heart, even if it didn't show on my face, that I don't remember for sure.
About a week later, we learned that Mom was indeed dying. The growth in her brain was to the point that all we could do was wait. She would likely be leaving us as soon as 2 weeks. It was Friday, August 24th, Mom & Dad's 34th wedding anniversary when Dad brought Mom into the ER. And Sunday the 26th when we later learned that she was really dying. It was surreal. I didn't cry, moan, or wail. I think I just said, "Oh," when I heard. I was so weary of seeing Mom suffer that it was kind of bittersweet news. I had peace.
Then began the best two weeks of my life. Yes, you read that right. The very best. We were at the gates of heaven with her waiting for Jesus to come take her away from her pain and her suffering. We sang, we cried, we sat by her side. Finally we began to sleep the night there. All 50, or so, of us at times. We started taking turns sitting up at night so she would not be alone when she passed. And also so Dad could sleep in peace knowing we'd alert him right away if she was passing.
God had it planned that she would breathe her last breaths on a hot Friday afternoon in September. I don't know for sure how Dad knew, but he called the boys (my brothers) in to gather around Mom. He said the time was close. Mom was quiet and peaceful. She was on hospice so she had morphine and other drugs to keep her comfortable. We sat by her side and soon it was apparent that this was really it. Mom was meeting Jesus at that very moment as we watched!
I cried outloud for several (maybe many?) minutes before, during, and after her death. I thought, "Oh, Mom!" It was hard to finally say goodbye. My kids all heard the commotion. They said later that they thought we were laughing, but they soon realized it was crying they were hearing instead. They came in to say goodbye too. I don't really remember it all, but I do know that I was holding Damara's socks and crying into them. And amidst the sadness I remember my elation at Mom having won the victory. She now was safely on the other shore. For her, the fight was over. She had truly arrived. Words cannot tell you the absolute beauty in this thought for me. Mom was HOME!
(Mom's Heavenly birthday is coming around again....September 7th, it will be five years!)
So much has changed since then. We attend a new church, (for reasons not our own), Dad found a new love of his life, I've given birth to two babies that Mom will never meet and lost 3 to miscarriage, Clarissa has lost a baby and been diagnosed with an incurable disease, Missy & Mikey have moved away, and my brothers seem to have dropped off the face of the earth.
We do not sit at the feet of Jesus so often now. Death is a little further away from our day to day life... and we have lost something. We have lost our "vision". Our eyes begin to stray to things of this earth so much more. No one is sitting at death's door. ( I want to note here that Abigail Rose could very likely be, but she is not the Mom of this family, and does not affect all our lives like Mom did. I hope you understand, Clarissa). So we have an anchor in heaven, but we sometimes get weighed down with the burden's of this life and forget to look to our heavenly home and the time we will be going there too.
I used to think about being on the other side of Mom passing, wondering if life would ever be "normal" again. It is normal, but it is not too. It will never be "normal" again. Mom will stay in heaven, my life will continue on, my kids will grow-up and move away, the world will keep moving toward that great day when Jesus comes to take us home, and in the midst of all this the world will continue to grow worse and worse as the Bible says. But we rush on, running the rat race, and hardly giving time to God. Do we learn of Him, as he has said? Do we hear his still small voice in the everyday hubbub?
My heart cries to be freed from this crazy, busy life. Is it just me or is there others out there who wonder what is the value of this race? And is it meant to be a race? Are we meant to rush on, days at a time, giving no thought to the day we'll be asked to give account to our Heavenly Maker? Where is the daily bread? Where is the fellowship? Where is the peace and calm? Whatever happened to Sundays spent talking around the Word of God and singing? What will become of us, or our children without this "family of God"? Can we continue on so carelessly and still make it to Heaven someday?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Mom
I just spent the last half hour reading the memory book my sisters and I started about Mom. So I am missing Mom...not that I don't always miss her, but the memories are such a reminder. We had such good times as a family and Mom loved us so much. The younger girls have different memories than us older girls, but not any less special. And so nice to see and read from their perspective.
We were a farm family and lived next door to Dad's parents. Dad didn't work off the farm back then and him and Mom worked so hard. We worked hard, but we played hard too. We always took a week or two off after the summer harvest to go camping in the wilderness.
Mom and Dad dreamed for years about buying a ranch somewhere far away. Finally, due with their youngest baby, they bought their dream ranch in eastern Oregon. That was over 14 years ago now, but we had so many happy times and good memories there before Mom passed away in Sept. 2007.
Those who have never lost someone so close to them may think 3 1/2 years is a long time since someone passed away, but in some ways it's harder now than it was right away after. Dad has since remarried and for me that has been the hardest part of losing Mom. Mom suffered with cancer for years, but the last 4 1/2 years were the hardest. When she finally won the victory, I was SO happy for HER, even though I grieved for myself, Dad, the little girls at home (Marissa-14 and Marita-11), and all our family, my joy for her outweighed my grief for us.
We had other trials we faced soon after Mom's death that I don't think anyone should have to endure, especially not right after a death, but God used it to draw us closer to Him and one another. And through that trial we found a wonderful new church family. Today we are in a place that we would never had been had we not endured such a grievious trial, and despite it all, I thank God. He has been our strength, our anchor when none else could be found, and our hope and slavation. He has never left us, nor will He. We have a great God!
We were a farm family and lived next door to Dad's parents. Dad didn't work off the farm back then and him and Mom worked so hard. We worked hard, but we played hard too. We always took a week or two off after the summer harvest to go camping in the wilderness.
Mom and Dad dreamed for years about buying a ranch somewhere far away. Finally, due with their youngest baby, they bought their dream ranch in eastern Oregon. That was over 14 years ago now, but we had so many happy times and good memories there before Mom passed away in Sept. 2007.
Those who have never lost someone so close to them may think 3 1/2 years is a long time since someone passed away, but in some ways it's harder now than it was right away after. Dad has since remarried and for me that has been the hardest part of losing Mom. Mom suffered with cancer for years, but the last 4 1/2 years were the hardest. When she finally won the victory, I was SO happy for HER, even though I grieved for myself, Dad, the little girls at home (Marissa-14 and Marita-11), and all our family, my joy for her outweighed my grief for us.
We had other trials we faced soon after Mom's death that I don't think anyone should have to endure, especially not right after a death, but God used it to draw us closer to Him and one another. And through that trial we found a wonderful new church family. Today we are in a place that we would never had been had we not endured such a grievious trial, and despite it all, I thank God. He has been our strength, our anchor when none else could be found, and our hope and slavation. He has never left us, nor will He. We have a great God!
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