My Dad died in 1992 on one of the coldest February mornings on record in the Midwest. He never got out of the ICU. For 21 days we stood by his bedside. And a number of nights as well. During that time I never stopped praying. Every conscious moment I was storming the gates of heaven. I was a wild animal, flinging myself at the door, over and over. Pleading.
There was nothing devout about it. If Satan himself had shown up offering deals I would have switched teams in a heartbeat.
I had a bitter and angry period afterwards. My father was a good person and we needed him. It was way too soon to lose him.
Later, I realized a calm mind is necessary to recognize grace.
Earlier this month both our mothers landed in the hospital with the same thing – pulmonary embolism. An extremely serious and life-threatening condition. Richard’s mother is still in the hospital in the UK, but doing well. Richard just got back after spending some time with her – we hope she will go home any day now. We are so grateful.
I am in Tucson with my mother. Her recovery has been progressing normally, but it hasn’t been a straight line. It’s a frightening condition – not being able to breathe properly and severe chest pain. She’s having to give herself injections in the stomach. A punishing trade off for getting out of the hospital early. She’s an extremely active person – the exhaustion has been frustrating.
But she is slowly healing and I’m so thankful for that and for her doctor. We’ve been seeing him every day. He’s exceptional – thorough, communicative, skilled. And what’s most impressive, he has the ability to say exactly what the patient needs to hear. When my mother skipped one of her injections he became Dick Cheney, “You need to do this or you will die.” Go Doc! I know she heard that. But on the other hand, when the anxiety starts getting overwhelming, he becomes a young Dr. Welby, a reassuring hand-patter. And we need that too.
To everyone who has inquired and expressed concern – thank you. It means a lot to us. I know people worry about saying the right thing. But we shouldn’t. It’s all about showing solidarity. Just being there.
I recognize grace now.
1 comment:
There was never a doubt in my mind that you are a graceful one. Your unwavering support for your family -- indeed, all humanity -- in times of need require huge amounts of energy. By now perhaps you're on the road home: I hear Sedona is a great place to recharge your batteries!
Love.
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