I keep typing and erasing this first sentence. It is as if there is this flood of emotions and thoughts I need to get out so I can breath, but how do I begin? I have a feeling this is the first of many thoughts as I walk yet another stretch of this road of grief...
My mom is with Jesus. To say that she "died" doesn't seem accurate. My friend (who has lost his own mother) encouraged me with the truth that she is more alive today than ever. We are the ones that experience the death. A piece of me has died. I know, it doesn't make sense...but that is kind of like the kingdom of God isn't it? The first shall be last, the last first...lose your life to find it...love the least of these...
When my children were very young, my mom encouraged me with a scripture written out on a 3x5 card. It was Isaiah 40:11, "He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; and carry them in His bosom; and gently lead those that are with young."
The day before my mom died she had refused to eat. I had gone that afternoon to see if she would let me feed her. I tried, but she would not do it. That night I went back to try once more. She allowed me to spoon feed her a few sips of juice, but it felt like she was doing it for me, not her. My sister texted and said to tell mom she loved her. I sat and held my mother's soft hand, stroked it and told her each of us loved her. God loved her. Then the above scripture came flooding back to my mind, and I said, "Mom, you are being carried in the arms of the Lord, He loves you." I sat for awhile longer, then kissed her forehead. That was my last moment with my mom this side of heaven. I had no idea that would be her last night. I thought we'd have months, years even, figuring out how to give her joy in the midst of this dementia and immobility.
Daniel prayed tonight that Mama would be having fun in heaven...I am sure she is, and I can't wait to join her.
<3
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