The Afternoon of Life

  “Speed up past this vehicle.” (I was already driving the speed limit)   “Change lanes.” (There was a car on my passenger side bumper that she couldn’t see)   “Hurry up and run that yellow light or you’ll have to wait forever”...this just an hour after   “Lauren!   Stop...the light’s yellow!”   “We don’t drive 70...we drive 60 to save our natural resources.” (I’d just passed several vehicles...I moved into the right lane and let them all pass me.   “In Louisiana the police will pull you over if you stay in the left lane.” (She couldn’t see the four cars lined up behind me in the right lane that I’d had no room to move in-between).   This morning she *PROMISED* not to give me any more driving instructions...after telling me to hurry up through the left-turn arrow that I had.   I said, “There is no way you can keep that promise.”   I was right about that one.   After her snapping at me and snipping at me this morning I finally said.....

  3:30 a.m. and mom comes into the living room, whimpering, moaning...when asked about her pain level she says softly, "I'm not hurting...I'm just scared."  I move from daddy's chair so she can have it...I get her some pain medication...I get her a glass of cold water...and then I try to get comfortable on the couch that's just not long enough for me.  She says, "I don't know if I can get back to sleep" and I promise I'll stay awake and keep her company.  I'm relieved when 5:00 a.m. comes and she's finally resting...I have no problem closing my eyes and falling back to sleep.  I wake only 2 hours later and get up to read the Scriptures and catch up on e-mail.  She is sleeping soundly in "her" chair...kitty planted on her lap.  It's nice to see her rest and she wakes refreshed, almost unaware that she had been struggling just a few hours earlier.  Our morning is pleasant...reading magazines and talking about what we see. ...

I find myself on the verge of tears every moment of the day now.   She was up early and had a “best-start” yet since the news.   She came down the hall about 7:00 as Richard was leaving for school...and fell quickly back to sleep once she got “her chair” back from me...where I’d slept comfortably last night.   It’s actually Dad’s lift-chair...and somehow I think we both feel closer to him and comforted by him when we’re in his chair.   A wonderful friend (read that angel in disguise) provided us with a rental vehicle to use while I’m here with mom.   It solved so many problems.   Now Rich can go back and forth to school without complications while I chauffeur mom to all her appointments.   It’s hard to find a thank you card that expresses anything close to what one feels when someone offers a gift like this.   I did my best...but it falls so short of the astonishment and overwhelming feelings of love that I feel.   It was the offer of this g...

I don’t know the right thing to do.   I know I’m supposed to “listen” to her...but does that mean that I remain silent and let her just lament.   I put her in bed, tucked her in, gave her a kiss...she’s so beautiful.   But I had to crawl in next to her and wrap my arms around her and let my fingers slide through her hair to try to calm her down.   How I wish I could be the mother and she could be the child and I could kiss away her “owies”.    She has asked to hold my hand 3 or 4 times today.   How I wish my strength could pass to her...and then I wonder, “What strength?”   Now she’s saying, “I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re not here.   David won’t be able to help me like you do.”   How do I leave her for two weeks when the time comes? I read the Hospice Manual today and I’m frightened for her.   I don’t want to see her slip away.   I don’t want to watch her lying in a coma...hearing us but not responding to us.  ...

I wish someone would tell me how I can put the book down and stop reading the story of my life now.  I wish I could freeze time...that there was a way to stop it from going forward and bringing about a conclusion I don't want to see.  This week with mom only makes me not want to lose her more.  I am seeing a whole new side of her.  Gone is the woman who can handle anything thrown at her...the superwoman in my life...the you-do-what-you-gotta-do spirit...the "whatever" award winner who has always just accepted her lot in life, but done it with class.  Instead I sit by a woman who cries to go home and not go through what's happening, who wakes me in the morning with soft moans, who asked me to crawl in bed with her this morning as she shared how scared she was about what's to come.  She asks me to do something for her and then apologizes immediately for asking me to do too much.  A trip from bedroom to living room seems to wind her. Her dog, Penny, and ...

I sit at my computer tonight an emotional wreck!  Good wreck, I think...so overwhelmed at what I saw today and caught up in the amazing love of the Creator in continuing to bring new life into this world.   Shannon Elizabeth Freedom Sadler is going to be a life-changer for me, that's for sure.  She popped out of mommy (with quite a bit of excitement when she made her first appearance with the chord wrapped around her neck not once, but twice, and her face looking a drastically horrible shade of purple).  Jen's doctor never panicked...he knew exactly what to do...and as soon as the chord was cut and lifted from around her little neck, she turned the prettiest shade of pink I've ever seen.  Shannon set to squalling when the nurse so rudely tried to clean her off...can you even imagine?  Dark eyes peering out from under a headful of dark hair...and growing quiet at the sound of her mommy's voice.  But for me the miracle was watching my oldest so...