In 1993, both my parents’ health declined dramatically. My dad continued to grow weaker from a slow-growing non-Hodgkin lymphoma immune disorder. His weakened condition contributed to a near fatal car accident leaving him immobilized. We moved him to a nursing home close to us.
At the same time, we learned my mother had blocked carotid arteries. She underwent surgery, and though she recovered nicely from the surgery, the strain on her already weakened heart pushed her into heart failure. We set up hospice in our home.
I would leave my 9-5 job, go to the nursing home, go home, check on mom, then do whatever else had to be done (cooking, shopping, paying bills, laundry, and sometimes sleeping). It was a very difficult time.
One morning the hospice nurse said, “your mom will pass soon.” That same night I remember praying that Jesus would carry her home in His arms and end her suffering. The next day I left work early not knowing how long “soon” actually meant, but mentally getting ready for a long haul. For some reason I moved back to her room, laying down on the couch in her room to rest. I never closed my eyes, but sat up and then saw her take her last breath on this earth. It was as if her spirit lifted from her body. She was at peace. That was November 3, 1993.
In late December, my dad went to the hospital for pneumonia. On January 4, 1994, he passed away.
The loss of both parents within a 9 week period was a double whammy. I didn’t have time to grieve for mom before facing the loss of dad. After both funerals I realized I no longer had a “home” to run to. I was now the “matriarch” to my own family and I wasn’t ready for that. It was time for me to get my “house” in order.
However tragic 1993 and 1994 were, they were but stepping stones preparing me for bigger trials to come.
Tagged: grief and loss, mothers
