What one thinks, when told one’s mother is dying
I wrote this yesterday, after an informative but discouraging meeting with five of my mom’s doctors, two nurses, and a social worker. Also present were my stepdad and sister. The unanimous consensus from her caregivers is that she will continue to worsen, not improve, and that her condition is not operable, in great part because her “rehab potential” is zero. It’s complicated, but she has heart issues and has suffered at least two strokes in the last two weeks. Afterward, I went to Starbuck’s for a few alone minutes, to collect my thoughts, which I always do best in writing:
My mom’s health history and current status is complicated, and so are my feelings and thoughts. There are so many angles to consider — some of them disparate and competing — when contemplating the end of her life — contemplation from a practical perspective: How do we best care for her? And from a spiritual standpoint: God’s sovereignty is impossible to quantify. All I know is that He is the king of restoration, redemption, and love. But how that is demonstrated varies considerably. I want what He intends for her. But I don’t know what that is. Bot my sis and I feel that her time, her end, is near. Yet, neither of us want to give up. Plus, there is mother-daughter, sister, relationship care to consider. And how do I minister to my children? How much info is too much? I’m not ready to mourn for myself. I have wept. And I would probably weep more if I had less on my plate and could just give in to curling up and checking out. Feeling the love of God — both from His Spirit directly to mine and His love demonstrated by others — helps immensely. I don’t feel alone, and I don’t feel angry. I feel covered and loved, and that satisfies. But there are still many unanswered questions, and I am still sad.