A few
months ago – on a sunny afternoon in September - I was driving a car full of noisy G-babes when I suddenly came to a 4-way stop.
[I don't know about you, but 4-way stop signs confuse
me the crap out of me.]
As I sat there trying to figure out when to
go, my eight year old grandson said, “MiMi, do you ever wonder about
the people you pass on the street... like that guy in the car across
from us?”
“Wonder
what?” I asked, distractedly.
“Don't
you wonder if they know Jesus? My Daddy does. He says it breaks
his heart that he might pass right by someone who doesn't know Him.”
I've
never looked at 4-way stop signs the same.
Though I'm still not sure when
it's my turn to go, now I say a prayer for the guy across from
me while I'm deciding.
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It's all about perspective.
Thankfully, my tribe is full of
Godly perspective. And working as a health care provider certainly
helps. It's easy to remember what really matters when tasked
with helping someone learn to walk again.
Last
week, that 'perspective' came home to rest.
My
Mama has been crossing the abyss of physical decline for a handful of
years... never with fear, mostly with humor, always with strength.
But
over the past month, her health
has “taken a turn for the worse” - as she so poignantly stated.
After
much thought and prayer, my brothers and our spouses made the
decision to call in hospice care.
It's
a scary word, “hospice”. One of those words that forces our hearts to catch up with
our brains. My signature on those papers was a tangible admission to Mom's mortality.
The idea of hospice makes us sad, but we have peace in
knowing there will be no regrets regarding her care and
treatment.
Don't get me wrong – Mom has no immediate plans for heaven. She promised that she wouldn't 'ruin' our Christmas and I'm selfish enough to
hold her to it.
But
my Sweet Mama is running out of air... and she is tired. She wants to spend the remainder of her time
with us on her terms, with unlimited access to Pork Skins and Cheese
Puffs.
================================================================
The
morning after we met the hospice nurse, Mom told me she had a
dream...
“I
dreamed I flew to heaven!” she said, excitedly.
“Like,
with wings?” I asked.
“No,
silly. On a plane!”
Later
that day, she wrote of her dream on Facebook:
I dreamed last night I went to heaven. I was never alone. My husband, sister, Mother and so many people I knew were there. I was so excited! I didn't miss my kids. Somehow, I knew I'd see them soon. Heaven time is different from earth so you don't worry about anyone's arrival. Everyone had on regular clothes. I didn't see Jesus, but there were angels everywhere. Love was everywhere... I think that was God. It was wonderful, marvelous! I'm gonna go there soon. It's something to look forward to. I was so happy. I know I was dreaming but that dream was a comfort, so I'm gonna take it and keep it. Heaven is where I belong, but just not quite yet.
She is an amazing woman. She is brave and strong and full of grace. The heart of a warrior beats within her broken body. She inspires me to my toes, which have bunions... just like hers.
Walking Mom home is my highest honor. Though my steps are unsure and my heart is fragile, I'm taking my cues from her - and my G-boy.
I want to grow up to be just like her, more like Jesus. To be filled with so much light and love that the guy across from me at a 4-way stop will have to wear shades.
Cause Mama's always right... heaven is where we belong.
And we sure
don't want any empty seats on that airplane.
