It pushes up through the barren earth and stretches skyward. Touched by warmth and light, it opens. Like a beacon tall, they speak. Pure white held by green, they stand and show. Linked like friends sharing in the beauty of together, they cluster. When did they fall? Why did I glory in their arriving, yet missed their end? How did life take my eyes off their evolving, their falling? But it did. Bursting on the scene, spring demands attention. It rings in the season by it's showy display. Then it slowly fades, the days, weeks, ebbing away. As it goes, we miss their passing; are absent in their leaving. Why do I herald their blooms then forget them soon? Why do I rush ahead and leave the present behind?
There is something for the now. A time of dropping the busy of things, to a time of
watching the dropping of spring. I don't want to miss it. The ebbing of life, the falling of seasons, the bursting of change, or the moments of passing. These lilies came for their purpose and time. I want to be present and acknowledge the little things passing my way. Details among the small, He is there. I don't want to miss it. The blooming in warmth, the ending of beginnings, and the quiet falling of change. Last year was a 9 months-long journey of caregiving my Granny. She passed away in August '09. So many miracles were involved in our times with her and our times of getting here to her. But in them was also great sacrifice. Caregiving a terminally ill family member requires much. Where each day is laden with survival, not just for her, but for us too. Days passed in the blurr of needs, hers over ours. Prayers faltered from exhaustion. Moments tangled in the mangled mess of daily decline. Our own adding with each of hers. Driven to the bottom of the pit of self, darkened by a need of help when none was available. Clawing at any hand that reached our way, so we could find hope & maybe a tinge of rest.
The days passed in a heap. Hours marched in battle weary bodies. Strength evaporated between moments of doing. Life moved on and seemed forsaken among the giving and taking. But it was worth it, in the end.
Little did I know the depths it would plunge us. The price it'd extract. But He ended it quickly, peacefully, even miraculously. Suddenly the end came and the next season burst on the scene. When did I re-enter the land of the living? How did breathing became normal and not desperate surviving gulps? Leaving the daze has been slow, fading like those flowers. I wouldn't trade one day, one hour, one aching second we spent with her. One day, I hope for a family reunion with my Granny. But for now, I'm living again. I don't want to miss it. Not just in lilies and spring but in life.
Join me in gratitude at Ann's place "Holy Experience". Mine starts here:
Gratitude in...
101. Remembering (not living) the dark days behind me.
102. Enjoying the seasons and fully embracing their change.
103. Feeling the joy bubbling over among the promises of Him.
104. Resting. And being able to truly have it.
105. Great conversations with Granny.
106. Being a part of her journey to home, even when I mourned the home we left in Indiana.
107. God’s gracious mercy that carried us through the end.
108. Eyes that see, anew.
109. Breath that feels like spring in the soul.
110. Feeling His hand in the small baby steps of care, through the darkness of needs greater than ours, and in the newness of life. I’ve been born again, not just in spirit, but in season too.
Awesome and so touching, Tammy! I haven't personally had to take care of a loved one like this but I watched as our pastor's wife did her mother in law. It was everything you mentioned. I saw the toll it was taking on her physically but also the willingness and love that kept them going. My parents are getting close to the time when they will need help and I pray that I am up to it if God sees fit to choose me for this honoring, self sacrificing task of love.
ReplyDeleteYou are precious to me!
xoxoxo
Amazing post Tammy. I haven't had to care for anyone such as that, but we did have to help out with my MIL after she broke her hip for a short time. What a glorious experience of sacrifice for you!
ReplyDeleteMari, I loved how you put it, "if God see fit to choose me for this honoring". I've never thought of it this way. Hmmm, food for thought. I'll be thinking on that one for a long while.
ReplyDeleteBut it truly was a gift, though the struggles were great. I loved her fiesty attitude (in her healthy years). But in the ailing years, it worked against us. My Mother was here also sharing the load of caregiving. We tagged team it, with her enduring even more. But I'm glad it was us who was with her to the very end.
Beth, thanks for your beautiful comments. It felt anything but glorious and how sweet of you to describe it that way! Now off to your place to see your gratitude! :)
ReplyDeleteTammy, your posts always leave me speechless, in a good way. This was beautiful. I especially love the "Remembering (not living) the dark days behind me."
ReplyDeleteSo, so good.
Tammy, once again such a beautiful description of love and service. Your words paint the beautiful way that you allowed God to use you to meet the needs of your Granny. I can only imagine how difficult it was as you cared for her, the emotional fatigue coupled with the physical exhaustion must have seemed at times insurmountable, but you persevered. What an example to those around you of the love of Jesus. Even if your Granny never told you how much she appreciated your care, never doubt for a moment the impact it had on her and those around you. As you did the routine daily care, each stroke of her hair as you combed it, each touch of her face as you washed it was a gentle caress to her heart and soul. Bless you for the loving sacrifices you made. One day in Glory you will see your Granny again in her new body and the reunion will be so sweet. So for now, sit back and rest in the beautiful memories of times spent with Granny.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this today. To love every moment. Even those that don't seem so lovely at the time. Growing always involves change.
ReplyDeleteSeveral years ago I cared for my Grandma for about a week. One night as she lay on the sofa and we watched Jepordy together, she sighed and said: sometimes I wish I'd just lay down and the pain would stop forever.
ReplyDeleteOne day it did...for which I am grateful. Ah, but the ache it left in me has only grown as I long to see her again. How thankful I am that I will.
Such experiences become memories that grow more lovely with each passing year. My parents have been gone a long while now, and I'm so grateful to have had time with them, and to care for them before they bid farewell.
ReplyDeleteNo doubt you have been specially blessed for having shared your hearth & heart with your granny as you did.
Blessings,
Kathleen