Tuesday, March 13, 2012

It Takes a Village

They say it takes a village to raise a child. After living in Africa, where kids roam about under the watchful eye of everyone, I've seen how it's true. What I've recently experienced, though, makes me realize that it is as much a group effort to usher someone out of life as it is to welcome them in.

It takes a husband...

Over the past 6 months, Dad tended tirelessly and without fail to Mom's every need. Day and night, he waited on her, doled out her meds, made sure she was eating and drinking, covered her when she was cold. He moved her from bed to chair and back again as many times a day as she wanted to move. He gave up his hobbies and his love for puttering outdoors to be close to her. He fulfilled his promises of 48 years ago... "For better or for worse, in sickness and in health..." He faced the worst and made the best of it.

It takes a son or two...

Both of my brothers put their lives on hold to serve their mother and father. David spent as many weekends as he could with Mom, always coming up with something he thought would please her. He painted the kitchen. He took family portraits. He brought over tidbits of anything he thought would taste good to her. He presented her with one of the most precious gifts she ever received, a video of our family that she watched over and over, insisting that everyone who walked through the door would watch it with her. He curled up next to her on the bed and held her hand. And when Mom was gone and there was nothing left to do for her, he ministered to Dad, spending a whole week helping him get adjusted.

Geoffrey made the trek down from Alaska an astounding once a month since October. It made me proud to see how he cared for Mom, how he was able to be still and quiet and minister to her, especially on his last 2 visits. He, too, brought gifts of joy to her, drawings by his son, pictures of his children, and the gift of laughter.

It takes some in-laws...

Without 3 wonderful spouses, my brothers and I couldn't have been there with Mom and Dad like we were. All three of our spouses said, "Go. I'll take care of things at home."

It takes a church...

Mom and Dad have a wonderful support groups from church, both local and universal. People dropped by with flowers, food, funny stories to share. People sent movies, cleaned up the yard, dusted the cobwebs. People surrounded us at church. A couple of ladies invited me for an occasional lunch or coffee, just to revive my spirit. People flew in from Alaska and Idaho, drove in from all over Washington, Oregon, and California. And people sent cards...dozens and dozens of beautiful, heart-felt, hand written cards that brought joy to Mom every day.

It takes a nurse...

I don't know what we would have done without nurse Cathey. She offered a bit of sanity to our Mondays over the last few months. She was the one who could answer our questions, who could tell us what to expect next, or that it was okay to not know what was coming next. We learned to trust her to do her best for Mom and for all of us. We'll miss her.

It takes a boss...

My co-workers blessed me so much with the freedom to be as available to Mom and Dad as I needed to be. They covered for me, they prayed with me and for me, they understood. My brothers experienced the same thing... "Go." When Geoffrey ran out of leave, his co-workers donated leave days so he could be here. What a tremendous sacrifice.

It takes a pharmacist...

I can't tell you what a blessing it was for Jim to reach through his pharmacy window the night before Mom died, grasp both my hands, and pray with me. If I ever hesitate to pray with someone who is hurting, I hope I will remember how it touched my heart for him to ignore the line behind me and minister not only to my mother's body, but to my soul.

It takes a generation...

The grandkids brought such joy to Mom in her last months and weeks. Even when she didn't feel like doing anything for herself, she had an ear to listen to her granddaughters. Little videos of the young grandsons were sure to bring a smile to her face. When I said good-bye to her the last time before she went to sleep, I told her I was going to pick up my daughters and I'd be back later. She reached out to me and said, "Tell them I love them very much." It's a memory I'll cherish always. My mom's last words to me were of her love for my children. I'll tell them, Mom. Again and again.

It takes a family.

7 comments:

Sparrow said...

Beautiful tribute, Patty. Both to your family and friends and to your mother.

Jenna Bunner said...

Your mom was in the arms of the God of All Comfort. That's what his kingdom looks like, and she experienced a bit of heaven even in the middle of the cancer's pain.
Love you, Patty. I'm thankful for the example your family and your community are of how to walk this hard path in grace.

Unknown said...

Beautiful, Patty. I am so thankful that your mother had such a loving home-going. What a precious gift.

My mother has been gone 10 years now. You will always miss your mother, but it gets easier. We look forward to heaven with even more anticipation now.

Kristi Weber said...

See, told ya! :)

Cheryl Linn Martin said...

Patty, so sorry to hear of your loss. I remember meeting your mom at an OCW one-day conference a while back.

God's blessings and my hugs to you and your family.

Kay said...

Patty, the beauty of your words and the heart that brings all those truths to memory help me to feel close to your family during this time. You will cherish all of the blessings of these months as you think daily of your Mom. You are a beautiful reflection of her.
I am just hearing of John's surgery. Our prayers are with him. We will look for information about the memorial for Betty.

Kay said...

Patty, I just read your message again after referring Francis to it. Especially after John's bypass surgery your words of tribute to him and your whole extended family is very touching. Your gift of expressing your experiences in words is a blessing for all of us. We look forward to seeing you again soon.
With love, Don and Kay