Mom

My mom is dying. I thought I was prepared, but the other day the Hospice nurse called me and when she identified herself, my heart stopped for a second or two. Then she told me mom is fine, she was just calling to update me on her medical status--and I breathed again.

I have been spending as much time as I can with mom these days. She has been in Bethany Homes for around six weeks now. Yesterday we moved her to a private room. We are hoping to make it seem a little more like a bedroom than a nursing home room by hanging some old pictures and family photos and making it a little more comfortable for her (and us). She seems so sad.

I'm always surprised at how so much time can go by when I am with her. I might stop after work, planning to stay an hour, and before I know it a couple of hours or three have passed. It seems so right for me to just sit with her, even though she is not very responsive, has a difficult time talking, and mostly wants to lie down and sleep. We still go for some walks outside on these beautiful days, but she has a difficult time holding her head up for very long and gets tired easily. She eats little and is small and frail.

The other night I was with her for a few hours and found an old hymn book. I read hymns to her and even sang a few. Anyone who knows me fairly well knows I'm not a great singer, but no one was in the room but my mom and me. I think she liked it.

Mom is so precious to me. I was thinking about why. I know I'm "supposed to" love and honor my mom, but it's beyond that.

Moms love. Unconditionally. I remember myself as a young adult trying to work through some of my emotional baggage from my past that seemed to be keeping me from functioning well in the present. At times, I was so frustrated with my mother who would never acknowledge that I had some serious problems to work through. I was always perfectly fine in her eyes. If I did have any problems, it must be someone else's fault.

It's surely true that some of her way of thinking was denial, which can be unhealthy. But I also think there is something inherently wonderful (full of wonder) in the way a mother has faith in her child and sees what is best in them. No ones loves like a mom.

Except God. And while a mother's love can--and often does--fail, God's love is unfailing, steadfast, true. One of my favorite passages is in Isaiah 49:15, where God says

Can a woman forget her nursing child
     And have no compassion on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
    Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;

I praise God today for my mom, for her love and her life, and for His unfailing love.