Life and...

I've avoided writing this blog, mostly because I just don't know what to write. I'm finally committing to it because I have too many thoughts in my head and need to get some of them out of the way. As I type this, I'm sitting at my grandmother's hospital bedside. I've been here since Sunday night, aside from going to my parents' home each night to sleep. Although it's hectic here, and there really isn't a lot of sitting time, I feel like my brain has been in overdrive with so many thoughts that I've had difficulty keeping up with my own mind.

I should give some background... My mother's mother, Wanda, suffered a massive stroke three weeks ago and has lost the use of the left side of her body, developed pneumonia and is dealing with other complications as she attempts to recuperate. My mother, Ann, has served as the primary caretaker the past three weeks, and I owed it to her to relieve her as much as possible for this week. My schedule will hopefully allow me to return over Easter.

I arrived on Sunday, not really knowing what to expect, but assured that anything I could do would help my mother. However, after three days in this hospital room, I think I am the one who has benefitted most from this encounter. You see, I've not had a positive relationship with my grandmother since I was a child. It's not just me, I don't think anyone in my family has enjoyed their relationship with my grandmother. It's quite the novel itself, but the story of my mother's family is dramatic and not positive in any light. My grandfather is but a memory as he passed away when I was a toddler. I'm sure that his death contributed greatly to my grandmother's demeanor over the years, but that is not important at this juncture. The drama of the past, scars of relationships lost and feelings betrayed by hurtful words are no longer the story.

The story now is a woman who just three weeks ago was a very prideful and independent woman substitute teaching at a high school now lies helpless in a hospital bed. I've spent my week washing her face, covering her with blankets, uncovering her from blankets, cleaning her teeth, brushing her hair, calling nurses time after time to reposition her in the bed and so on. I've entertained with her favorite pasttime of listening to sermons and my own favorite of worshipping through praise music. As I type this, we are listening to a Third Day CD that she has enjoyed today. (Fortunately, she has good taste in music.) On the first day, I would repeatedly look up scripture when she called out a passage and asked me to read it, but after that day of her reciting the verses before I could locate them, I just started asking her what the verses said instead of looking them up. (I'm quite certain she could record the text for an audio Bible without having to read it from a printed Bible.) I introduced her to YouTube, and we've enjoyed watching Gaither Family performances online. She is working up to taking another swallow test later in the week so that hopefully she will be allowed to begin taking in fluids orally, so she is practicing her speech therapy exercises throughout the day. When I stepped out last night to cook dinner for my parents, I turned her TV to Fox News and told her to do her favorite exercise every time they said "healthcare" on TV. She did it and was still doing it when I returned after dinner. That was just one of the many times I have giggled this week. Although there is certainly no humor in the situation, she has still cracked me up on a daily basis.

Although she is very demanding and needy, I still admit that I am the one who has benefited from this time. Servanthood is an unexplainable feeling, and though I usually have no problem putting words to my feelings, this is the rare occasion when I have absolutely no words. What words are there to explain the feelings of seeing someone so helpless? Sorrow. I definitely am sorry that she is in this condition. No matter what kind of person she is or was, no one deserves this condition. Remorse. I definitely feel remorse, even if it is just on her behalf. I have heard her thoughts this week and definitely see that she has regrets and would maybe have treated people differently if she had life to do over again. Sympathy. If you have no sympathy for elderly and aging and disabled people, I think you must have a heart of stone. Exhaustion. The thoughts of what the next step is and how the rest of her life will play out absolutely exhaust me. I'm not one of her children who will be making those decisions, but the complexity, emotion and labor that is and will be involved exhausts me just thinking about it. Sadness. There's really nothing to elaborate on this emotion. Aging, sickness and death are sad to watch. We did spend some time talking about the beauty of heaven today and how many people she is looking forward to seeing, but it is still a sad process though we know the culmination is anything but sad. However, I wouldn't have missed this opportunity. I don't know why, but now that I am in the midst of it, it seems vital. It's an emotion I feel strongly attached to and I think it is a part of life that makes us feel deeper and love stronger. I find it intriguing that the cycle of life truly is a complete cycle and it is fascinating to see in action. I've found a deeper meaning in Ecclesiates 3:1-8 this week.

For everything there is a season,
A time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.