My computer crashed on January 17th.
My life crashed on February 7th.
The computer has been fixed for a few days. (Hence this post.)
My life will never be the same.
My mom died.
I absolutely hate that that is part of my story.
I absolutely hate that my mom won’t get to read this blog post.
Or any new blog post I will write. (She
thinks thought I was so clever.)
I’m sad (understatement). And I’m sure I’ll be writing about it. Along with all the other things this blog is about. But for now, I’ll write about how it happened. Because it’s a story worth sharing. And it’s my story (deep breath).
My mom broke her leg falling off a curb, and was getting better. We spent Christmas and New Years in the ICU (wrapping presents on the waiting room floor above) Then she wasn’t getting better and was transferred to Cedars Sinai. At Cedars we found out her body was rejecting the metal hardware put in to fix the broken leg. It felt (feels) very tragic and unfair.
We became quite popular among the nurses because we brought treats every visit. (Thank you to those of you who helped me out!) Even though things were so dire, I really felt like God was working. My mom was somewhat stable and my heart thought once the hardware was gone she would start to recover again like she did from her initial leg surgeries. It felt like God was trying to get as many people involved in his miracle as possible.
We prayed. And prayed. And churches all over the country prayed. We made the decision to remove the hardware. Which meant we needed to remove the leg. The leg she broke was her “bad” leg. The one that was really unhealthy from her diabetes so it really wasn’t the hardest decision to make. Especially because the alternative was give up and wait for her to die. She had less than a 10% chance of making it though the leg surgery.
She made it!
Glory to God. He was working. It felt big. And horribly wonderful.
Now we just needed to wait.
It took about 10 days from her broken leg surgeries to get back to talking and eating again, and I was prepared for about the same amount of healing time. Three days went by and she was overriding the ventilator and her blood pressure was normal – even during dialysis.
Then it wasn’t.
Her blood pressure was dropping and she would no longer sustain dialysis. We had a family meeting with her doctors and they told us there was nothing more they could do. And the week of healing ended up being the week she died. It took 3 days for her body to finally give up. She
is was the strongest woman I have ever known.
I was holding her hand when she breathed her last breath and for her last heartbeat. The people she loved most, sung her favorite hymns and ushered her into forever.
It was beautiful, and a peaceful way to enter heaven.
But I wish it had never happened.
I can’t believe it has happened.
From falling off a curb.
I can’t believe I’ll never get to sit at my dinning room table and sew and chat with my mom. I can’t believe that my younger kids will never remember being adored by her. And that my older kids’ memories will be mostly prompted by old photos instead of last week’s visit.
My heart hurts and my head keeps thinking that this just isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.
I feel very alone.
My heart knows she is in heaven rejoicing and my head says it’s not fair that such a truly good person is gone from earth.
I feel like 60-years-old is too young to die.
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-26
believes believed this. Do you?