It's still not real. I don't know when I'll be able to wrap my brain around the fact that my Mom is really gone. I must have cried and yelled at the sky a thousand times now, “NO MOM! NOT YET!!!!” We all really thought we'd have more time. There's so much I wish I'd said, but I didn't want to get too mushy on her because I didn't want her to think that I thought she didn't have long, we wanted to keep giving her hope that she'd get a few more months or years. And look at her in that picture! That's how she looked right before she died, she didn't look like a cancer patient on her deathbed, and most wouldn't even guess that she was almost 80!
It happened in an instant, it must have been the blood clot, which is what took her back to the hospital on Saturday morning, this time by ambulance. We were in Chicago for the weekend and I was very upset after talking with my sister, because I was afraid Mom was going to die without me there, and I really wanted to be with her when that day came. They got her on blood thinners and she ended up doing fine all weekend. We got home Monday morning and a little after noon my sister called to give me an update on how she was and what appointments I'd be taking Mom to when I got back over there again this week. Only five minutes or less after we hung up she was calling back and I remember thinking, “That's weird, we just hung up and I thought we were done.” She was distraught and told me Mom died! Mom had been going to the bathroom, an aide was helping her while my sister stepped out to call me, and she just dropped. Before that she had been talking just fine, eating well, and didn't even have any pain. None of it was real, and it still isn't!
We are happy for Mom that her suffering is over and that her death was quick, but wow, what a road of healing we have ahead of us. I remember some of this pain from when my Dad died, but there's something even more painful when it's Mom, and how it happened so quickly, and now both our parents are gone. It's weird how the hurt is so strong that it feels like a physical pain. Sometimes all I can do is let out long pathetic groans with lots of tears and just ask the Holy Spirit to pray for me as the bible says He will in Romans 8:26: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”
Here are a few random highlights from this week, I'll try not to bore you…
- Your comments on Tuesday's post and all your emails have blessed me more than I can express to you, thank you for lifting me up my dear readers, I love you all and pray often for YOUR prayer requests. One reader friend sent a Scripture that was so comforting, it was the first one I thought of when Mom's pastor asked which readings we wanted at the funeral: 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. (Look it up!) Thank you Patti O. 🙂
- Our friends have been amazing, praying for us constantly, bringing us food, helping with the kids, and just being there. Both Jill and Nancy let me wail into the phone soon after I found out, and I'll never forget Mary Jo praying with me when I was on the way and almost to the hospital to see Mom after she passed. I was an uncontrollable mess and her prayer really calmed me and gave me strength for what was ahead.
- Mom's pastor/friend, Kathy, was so good to us – she'd been with Mom several times throughout her illness, including just an hour or two before Mom died, and then she came right back up to be there and pray with us after Mom passed away, too.
- The friends, WOW. Not just Mom's huge army of friends who have been so good to her these last couple of months, but our friends and my siblings‘ friends, too, they were everywhere we turned at visitation and at the funeral, we have never felt so blessed. You just can't believe all the people that showed up, and my brother and I were talking about how it makes you want to do better at blessing others in the same way by being there when their loved one passes.
- Mom's church was packed for the funeral — they had to seat people up in the choir area and chairs were in every single spare spot they could put them. Mom would've loved all the hubbub! She also would've loved that we got the picture she wanted with both her and Carl's grand kids together, she loved each of them so much. As I walked over to where the grand kids were all gathering, I looked up and said, “Are you seeing this Mom? We're finally doing it for you.”
- Look at this beautiful stone Kent's brother and sister-in-law gave us:
- You know what kinds of things hurt the most? The little things… Like seeing her purse. Or the tooth brush that I just helped her use a few days ago. Her bathrobe hanging in her closet and her slippers under the bed. The pill we kept at her bedside in case she was nauseous in the night. Her endless lists. (I'm like her in many ways, but especially in that way!) Her insulin shots. Her diary. Joy dish soap. I guess the worst isn't the little things, though, it's Carl…with tears rolling down his cheeks. Or her grand kids saying their last goodbyes before the casket closes.
- Here's one of my favorite pictures of Mom, with our youngest just after he was born (oh how she loved babies and she was there for the birth of all four of our kids):
- A very good friend of ours, David, sang at the funeral and made it especially beautiful. His first song was Mom's request: How Great Thou Art, and then two more: On Eagles Wings, and the song in the video below, Give Me Jesus. The version here is by Jeremy Camp, but I like David's version better.
- This next video is one of my favorite songs by Matt Maher. I played it over and over as I drove to the hospital Monday, I wanted to remember that as much as it hurt, I know that God really has defeated death through His Son Jesus, and I will see my Mom again. (If that lingo is foreign to you, don't worry, you're not alone, read these Christianity FAQ's over at my other blog.)
- At the graveside a few of us were sitting in chairs and everyone else was gathered all around in a big circle, I felt surrounded by so much love and it got me wondering… Do you think when we get to heaven we're surrounded by loved ones in a huge circle, or do you think they come one by one in a long line to get a big hug? I'd love to know what Mom saw as she crossed from this world to the next.
- Following is the eulogy I wrote for my Mom. A family friend read it out loud so I didn't have to, and he shared some neat stories of his own, too. Also at the funeral a good friend of Mom's shared her eulogy and a few more friends got up to share some memories too, how brave they all were! I had planned to finish it and read it to her before she passed. Hopefully she could still hear it from heaven…
None of us can believe we’re here right now. You probably wonder why we’re so shocked, when we knew Mom had advanced cancer, but we didn’t expect it to be so fast or for her to die suddenly the way she did. However, we all know that it was a gift from God, so that Mom didn’t have to suffer anymore. No more needle pokes, no more knee or back and hip pain, no more nausea and vomiting, no more worry about what’s to come. Now there is just peace and joy and love and reunions with family and friends.
We just can’t imagine life without her, though. To think that it's been 16 years since Dad passed, years that we've all moved on with our lives, it's so hard to think of how it will be the same as time passes with Mom gone. Life can be pretty awesome here on earth sometimes, but it can also be pretty heart-wrenching, to say the least. While death is a part of life, and we are very very sad today, we are not in despair… Sadness and despair are two VERY different things. To be in despair is to be without hope, but we DO have hope and assurance that THIS isn’t all there is. We know we’ll see Mom again because she believed in Jesus and what He did for us. Mom loved God and her giving spirit came from Him. She would take me to church right here as a little girl, and she helped plant the seed of faith in my heart from when I was young by her example of daily sacrifice, and how she loved and gave so generously to others in her life.
Now we ask for your prayers for us, but especially for Carl. He has been an absolute gift in her life for the past 12 years — we all love him and his giving spirit, and know he will feel lost without her. Mom loved how well our families blended and was very proud to tell people that she had 20 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren. They were her greatest joy and she especially loved going to their sporting events.
It’s sad that she didn’t have the chance to do the one thing she really wanted to get to before she died, which was to sort through her files! However she did do the more important thing, the thing she valued more than anything on earth, which was being with her family and friends.
Mom was blessed with an army of good friends, all of you blessed her so much throughout her life but especially in the last couple of months since her diagnosis. The cards, phone calls, visits, and food meant a lot to all of us. We know that you would say how much she has done the same for you throughout the years. She was the best example of how to love others and serve God with your life, by the way she filled her days with helping and giving and loving others with her time and especially with her great cooking and baking. One day early on we needed to get the CD with Mom’s PET scan to her oncologist. We'd already had Carl on another errand and the rest of us were either out of town or working. When they asked if we had someone who could pick it up in Mt. Pleasant and bring it to Alma I said, “Yeah, I can come up with about 25 people we could call.” Eva ended up getting out of work early to grab it, but just knowing we had the support of SO many of you meant the world to us. As time went on and the cards and calls and visitors came in a constant stream, and every one said, “Call if you need anything,” and we knew you all really meant it, we realized that number was closer to 50 or more. But this is what happens when a life is spent giving to others, it always comes back a hundred-fold. Whether it's unending meals for our sweet 99-year-old friend Eva, or sitting with her dying friend, just days before her own diagnosis when she already wasn’t feeling well, or taking care of our Dad before he died (and before that, both our Grandmas), or being there when any of us kids needed her throughout difficult pregnancies and raising our kids, she was a true blessing to so many. That’s why it has been an absolute blessing to be able to care for HER in her last days. We truly learned from the best.”
- Here's the post about her diagnosis if you missed it.
- My Mom just died of breast cancer, and yes, I do still have the same politically incorrect thoughts about breast cancer.
- Are the pink ribbons a big scam?