Our Blessed Nest: March 2013

Though things are still kind of rough around here (well, at least for me, the kids seem to be doing well), life continues to go on, and here we are at the start of Holy Week.

Holy Week and Advent are my two favorite opportunities each year to really focus our home on Christ. We've started our Ressurection Eggs, and this week we will be reading some special Holy Week readings through the Gospel of Matthew.

Tonight also marks the start of Passover. To honor this, we watched a video that taught what Passover is, highlighting that Jesus celebrated Passover, and how we can do our own Passover celebration and Seder meal.

I'm hoping to do our own Seder this year, but we'll see.

Today we remembered the first Passover, and how the Israelites used the blood of the lamb painted over their doors to save them from the tenth and final plague. By the blood they were saved.

It's easy to make the connection: by Christ's blood we are saved.

He is the Lamb of God that has rescued us from death.

We will keep this over our door to remember, and to say our house will follow the LORD.

I hesitate to journal about this, because my words are so inadequate, and because part of me wants to forget March 10, 2013. It was the worst, most painful day of my life. It was the day we had to say good-bye to my mom.

My mom has been in a battle with metastatic breast cancer for about a year and a half. Throughout this fight, she has never let the cancer control her life; she has lived her life the way she chose. Though it may have slowed her down-she had to use a cane and could only work half-days-she never let it get the better of her, and she believed that in time she would beat this.

She lived with strength, love, and dignity. I am thankful for all that she has taught me-especially how to be a mother, to work hard, to not complain, and never give up.

Saturday, March 9 my mom couldn't get out of bed. She was very dizzy, and my dad was forced to call the ambulance, despite my mom's requests to just let her rest a little longer. When she got to the ER in De Smet her blood pressure was 40/22 and her pulse varied from the 30's down to the mid-teens. She needed to get to Sioux Falls, but the weather made that very challenging. After failed attempts with the helicopter and hospital airplane, my mom was taken to Sioux Falls by ground ambulance, arriving at about 3:00 p.m. Though she was tired when she arrived, she was responsive to medications, and became stable after only a short time. I even had tickets to a concert (Sara Groves, my fave) which I had decided not to go to, but changed my mind since she was doing so well. I left at 6:30 p.m. to go to the concert and she was fine. I called after the concert to see how she had been doing, only to discover things had been interesting while I was gone. They had to shock her heart to get it into rhythm. So, I went straight back to the hospital, but again, she. was. fine. Her heart rate and blood pressure were fine. Her potassium which had been elevated had come down. Her kidneys were in shock, and she would likely have to do dialysis-but in time like always, she would be fine. I said good night again. This time it was 10:15 p.m. My mom said it was getting late, and we should get home and get some rest. She was tired too, and we would see each other the next day. I hugged her and said I love you. I told her I was praying for her. She said thank you, and Love you. These were the last words I heard her speak. I got another call at 5:40 a.m. She had coded during the night and had to be intubated, but was now (again) stable. I was worried, but she was always okay when I saw her; she was strong; she would fight back. She fought most of the day Sunday. I believe she tried, and I know the doctors did everything they could. But, Sunday afternoon we lost her. She couldn't keep a blood pressure or pump blood throughout her body. We had to say good-bye. She had machines keeping her alive, but her life was gone. With tears, hugs, and even wails of pain, my dad, my three sisters, my aunt, and myself let her go. We joined hands around her and prayed, and quietly she went.

All the dads and kids came in the room shortly after. All 10 grand kids got a chance to say good-bye to Nana-though most of them weren't able to make much sense of it.

So, now I figure out how to move on. I know there are bigger tragedies in this world...I've seen the newspaper...but not to me. It doesn't seem fair right now. She wasn't done with this fight, and she wanted to be here. I prayed for miracles, and it feels my prayers went unanswered, unheard.

I don't like where I am right now, but that is where I am. I miss my mom, and I see the voids that she has left. My heart breaks for my dad, and how is life is forever changed.

But, I will cling to the little bit of hope and faith that remain. I pray that God will grant comfort and peace during this time, to me and also to all my family. So, hopefully I'll have something more inspiring to write another day.

I decided to post this picture of my mom. She's holding Evelyn this past summer at a cabin in the Black Hills, wearing some new glasses Amy thought would look good on her. :)

I think it shows how she lived. She was all about family, she was a "go-getter", a leader, a fighter, she enjoyed life, and together we had some cherished times.