In the book of Revelation it speaks about how the Bride, the church, will be prepared to be received by her groom, Jesus. As we know, when it comes to weddings, most of it centers around the Bride. What colors will she choose, the style dress she will wear, where is she registered, is she a bundle of nerves, is she still sweet and loving or has she become Bridezilla.
When it comes to preparing us for eternity in Heaven with Jesus, those issues carry no importance whatsoever. He will not care if we provided the wedding of the century, served champagne and caviar, or how many attended. All that will matter is if we knew our future groom and if He knew us. This is the story of how my mom died. How God prepared her for her acceptance and entry into Paradise. But let me backtrack a little.
Anyone who know me can attest to the fact that mom and I did not have a cozy mother/daughter relationship. I spent the last ten years feeling resentment toward her for always needing my help. I had made the selfish decision that since I now had my own family, all my time and energy should be spent on them. I wanted nothing outside my idyllic bubble to inconvenience me. So, as soon as I would recognize her number on caller ID, I would set my tone accordingly: Oh no, not mom again. Talk about the very definition of a brat.
The last two months of my mom's life were not very good. It began when she fell out of bed and hurt her leg. When she called I sent my husband, since he was more compassionate towards my mom, over to check her out. I had just literally started a new job, so really could not take time off. Remember: I am an only child. He decided that mom needed to be taken to the emergency room to have her right leg looked at since he felt it might be broken. A few hours later, they determined it was only badly bruised and sent her home.
Over the next few days it got worse, until she could no longer put weight on it. She wanted a wheel chair, to which I responded: And you could maneuver that around your apartment.......how? Nice attitude, I know. Once again I sent my husband. He took her to a completely different ER, and they decided she had a hematoma that formed in her lower leg, and it was infected. Yes, I know feel like a heal for not checking in more often that week and believing it was getting worse.
She was admitted to the hospital and put on a course of antibiotics. There was worry because of her diabetes. She was not responding to the meds, so surgery was needed. I realized at this point we had a long road ahead of us, and when my new employer was anything but sympathetic, I quit. Mom came through surgery fine, and she was transferred to a nursing home for respite care til she could come home. However, her trigeminal neuropathy that afflicted her for the past 10 years went crazy. She could not handle anything touching her face or inside of her mouth. Not real helpful for a diabetic who needs to eat, take high blood pressure meds, and follow-up antibiotics post surgery. After about two and a half days of this the resident physician and I decided mom needing a feeding tube temporarily until the neuropathy calmed down and she could eat normally again. So it is back to the hospital.
This brings us to the final two weeks of mom's life. She was transported back on a Tuesday and set for surgery on Wednesday, however, the attending took it upon himself to refer her to a neurologist who thought he was God and would cure mom. Never mind that we had already seen many and had numerous tests done. He cancelled the surgery and put her on drugs. Here would be the issue, they were oral drugs, and remember she could not handle anything in her mouth. I was livid. I complained and he told me: people can live indefinitely on IV fluids, to which I replied, yes, and that will help her leg heal.....How? Meanwhile, she is getting weaker.
My husband was livid and took matter into his own hands and had the neurologist thrown off her case. We had the surgery for the feeding tube rescheduled. We are now in the last week of her life, except we did not know it.
That Monday while I was visiting her she aspirated a mucous plug. They called a Code Red, never good and in minutes about a dozen nurses and doctors were in her room. The ICU doctors took me aside and explained that because her inactivity the odds of a recurrence were strong and what were my wishes. Yes, that's right, here it comes, the big decision. They told me she had double pneumonia and needed antibiotics. The also asked about life support, to which I said NO. Mom had suffered so much in the past 10 years with her neuropathy, that I decided if it was God's will no doctor should take that away. She had surgery the next day to put in the feeding tube, was put on oxygen to aide in breathing and four different antibiotics to try to combat the pneumonia.
After surgery she never really gained her consciousness. Her body was not responding to the antibiotics at all. I called my mom's sister and asked her advice, because I didn't want to make it alone. We decided to stop treatment and institute comfort care only. I asked the doctors for the honest truth, and they told me it was the best it was ever gonna get.
Monday morning, November 15, I got a call from the hospital to come. They told me her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low and that it would not be long. I raced to the hospital and arrived around 8:30 a.m. I told her I was there, prayed with her and gave her permission to leave, to go be with Jesus. I read scripture to her and sang all her favorite and my favorite praise and worship and christian music. It was as much for me as it was for her.
At 9:15 a.m. the sunlight came through her window to shine at her feet. Over the next two hours it slowly moved up her body. I believe this was God. He was getting my mom ready to walk down the aisle and join with Him. He was transforming her earthly body to make it ready and acceptable. I was reading 1 John 3 which begins: See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! Then I started singing "Amazing Grace: My Chains are Gone". At the last chorus I got choked up, but kept my eyes closed and kept singing. When I finished the song, the sunlight left my mom's face, traveled to her pillow, she stopped breathing, and entered into God's glory.
I feel so blessed and honored I had those two weeks with mom. I am so grateful to God for giving me those last two hours with her. It was so beautiful to watch her no longer suffer, to be at peace, and go where she longed to be, in Heaven.
It is never to late to say you are sorry. It is never to late to ask God to soften your heart. Nothing is impossible for Him. He is bigger than everything. He is mightier than anything. He is more gracious and loving than anyone. He can melt your heart of stone, heal you, comfort you, and lead you. He will use you if you let Him. He will and can prepare you for something bigger than yourself.
I know I will see mom again one day!
No comments:
Post a Comment