"Is there anyone else she would be waiting on", the nurse asked me sometime around three am Sunday morning. His question interrupted a flood of thoughts that came to a sudden stop when he questioned me. I explained that we had a few more family members coming home today and she may just be waiting on them.
He left the room and I thought, "So this is what it feels like to be on the answering side of that question." I can't count how many times I've asked families this. I held tight to Mamaw's hand, thankful that she was peaceful and appeared comfortable. I let my mind start it's flood again, one raindrop at a time.
I'm sitting at her counter with Andrea, Matthew, and DJ. We are tasting the hot homemade rolls and blackberry preserves freshly made from the blackberries we picked this morning.
I'm on her couch with the flu watching Mamaw call my mom and tell her how high my temp had gotten.
I'm fussing about going to see the movie Little Women cause I wanted to see something else.
I'm in her living room on Christmas Eve opening presents.
I'm celebrating with her because her magic potion (baking soda and vinegar) saved me from what my cousins called a "killer bee" sting.
I'm learning how to play checkers.
I'm giggling watching her chin quiver when she tries not to cry at something sweet.
I'm just swimming through my childhood and adulthood, amazed that God would give me such a Godly Grandmother.
Then I wonder how in the world we got here.
I was supposed to be off this week to help Mamaw get settled in at home. She was supposed to leave the hospital on Monday to go home with hospice. Last Thursday she had asked Mom how many more nights until she got to go home. Together, Mom and Mamaw counted the nights until Monday. Mom told her that she would be leaving the hospital at eleven am Monday morning. Obviously, we all knew she wasn't well. But this was not in the plan. Then Friday morning, mom calls and tells me that Mamaw had developed a bit of a rattling sound and her levels weren't good. Mom was trying to decide if DJ should come home. I went ahead and called Sarah. I told them that if they wanted to have a good conversation with Mamaw they should probably come on home. It just worked out perfectly for them to fly in on Saturday. Later Friday night, I was driving around wondering if I jumped too soon. Wondering, if they really should come on home. I prayed and asked God for a message. Within a few minutes a devotional came on the radio. It was all about the quote, "enjoy yourself, it's later then you think." Message received, DJ and I both need to get home. I decide to go on home on Saturday now too, instead of Sunday as planned. Then late Friday night, Mom calls me and says the hospital had called them. Mamaw was only breathing four breaths a minute. Instantly my mind was racing. I couldn't sleep, couldn't focus. So at four am I got up, finished packing and left with Micah to get home as fast as possible. I happened to drive through Charlotte perfectly to pick up DJ and Sarah and we made it to the hospital. After one look at Mamaw I could tell, it was indeed much later then I thought.
The nurse came back in. I don't know what time it is, but I'm still holding her hand. She's comfortable so he leaves and I go back to my thoughts. As I start to drift off to sleep this song, There is a Redeemer, started going through my head:
"thank you oh my father,
For giving us your Son.
And for leaving your Spirit,
Til your work on earth is done."
Random enough, but I found myself singing it over and over.
I pondered Mamaw's last words to all of us, "tell the grandkids to be good to each other and to love each other."
Now it's six am Sunday morning. Mom and I are both very confused about the time change. I watched as Mom read Mamaw her Bible, her devotional, and prayed with her. Sunday is such a blur of visitors, changes, and emotions. Sunday night, it became very obvious that Mamaw would not be with us here much longer. That same wonderful nurse had the night shift. He encouraged us to sleep. I just couldn't. I held her hand again and reminded myself to breathe during the pauses that she didn't.
My racing thoughts now turned from memories to faith. A faith that Mamaw lived all of the time. I thought about how much God was there. His work was all over Mamaw and everything around us. I saw God in my rockstar sister in law, Sarah. She managed to seamlessly take care of Micah, Annalee, and all of us while very much grieving herself. God was with each visitor as they walked in with food, encouragement, and most of all love. God was allowing us to read the scrapbook to Mamaw so she at least got to hear how grateful we all are for her life. God kept Mamaw from being in significant pain. God allowed Papaw to sit beside her as she journeyed away from this life. God allowed the immediate family members time with her, and got us all home. Looking back, I see His fingerprints everywhere.
Mamaw died at 11:02 Monday morning. Surrounded by her family, with a room full of people, she simply stopped breathing.
"Thank you Oh my Father,
For giving us your Son,
And for leaving your Spirit,
Her work on earth is done."
We are all so worried about Papaw. He told all of us that they were married for sixty six years, two months, and seven days. He is sad and grieving. This morning, however, he tells me, "I'm just looking to do God's will." He is forever a follower of Christ. His work, for whatever reason, is meant to continue and he can already acknowledge that.
Yet again, I see God. I will never stop learning from God or from Papaw.
I too want to seek God's will. I can't shake the feeling that, for all of us, it really is later then we think.
Maranatha!
