I know God it's you again...

 My whole life I've heard great stories about the birth of babies, how a mother labors to get them here and how everyone  waits outside smiling and sometimes crying and can't wait to hold them close.  I know this because I have been blessed enough to experience this twice in my life.   A week ago today I learned that death also has a story. 

The past few weeks have been very busy at work for both T and  I.  It seemed we are running from activity to activity with our kids.  We were super excited about Spring Break and getting away for a couple of days.  At the end of the week we headed to Chattanooga with our kiddos.  On Saturday morning at 6:47 a.m. my cell phone blared my Lady Ga Ga ring tone and I went running for it.  It was my stepfather telling me that my mother was very sick and that I needed to meet him at the hospital because she had no pulse.
 FEAR - my first emotion during the week.

 I was 4 hours away.  What had really happened, was she going to be OK once the paramedics were there, is this real, is she hurting.  My head was full of so many questions and my hands were tied.  There was nothing that I could do 4 hours away! We began packing up our things and headed out in a very short time.  On the drive home so many thoughts filled my head.  The unknown was awful!  I was so upset anyway but many of you that know me know that I get car sick very easy.  Well of course on this day I was certainly sick. I've never been so glad to see the McCracken County line before in all my days.  If TS heard "I'm going to puke" once he heard it 1000 times. We dropped our bags and kids and headed to the hospital. 

As we walked in the ICU door there were many family members in the hallway but the person my focus was on was my 80 something year old Granddad.  I will never forget the terror and worry in that man's eyes.  He was motioning me to come quick, as he grabbed me by the hand he said "Sis, this is bad". 
Not a whole lot could have prepared me for what I was about to see.  As the curtain opened there laid my mom with ventilator breathing for her, completely motionless, non responsive and a blood pressure of 86/47.  I kissed her head and told her I was there. I sat with her trying to talk to her and get some kind of motion out of her to see if she could respond but unfortunately she showed no sign.  The tests that they had done while I was trying to make it to her showed that she certainly had severe brain damage from the lack of oxygen from the time she was found until the paramedics made it to her. 

The next day was Sunday, April 10th.  When I came in the room just as I did the day before I kissed her head and told her I was there.  It was what I thought to be a day and night change.  I felt like she recognized me when I spoke to her.  She even got a little bit hyper, you could almost see her trying to wake up.  Her blood pressure was up and her color looked so much better than the day before. We were told that she had pneumonia but this was something that was definitely treatable and they began treating immediately.

 HOPE - was the second emotion that I remember having during the week.  As I sat beside my mom's bed holding her hand I talked to her and there were times she would raise her arm.  My Grandparents and Step Father tickled her feet, which she was very responsive to.  She was swallowing on her own and was definitely resilient to pain. We spoke to the nurses about what we were witnessing.  They explained that her movements were involuntary movements and that the brain damage was so severe that if she lived she would have no control over her eye movement. Even so, I still hung on to hope.

Around 6:00 p.m. she began to pull at her tubes uncontrollably.  We got the nurse and she asked us to leave and come back in about 10 minutes.  When I came back around the corner the fear was back again.  Almost every nurse from the unit was in the room and as I stood there I overheard the speaker call a code to her room.  I watched as the nurses flew in and out of the room and my head was once again full of questions.  I can't remember a time I've ever felt so helpless. We were all called in the room as we began to say our final goodbyes.

The ventilator stayed on for almost 2 1/2 more hours as we watched her struggle for each breath that she made.  We cried, and laughed and told stories and most importantly told her how loved she was.  The most important part of this was that I was able to hold her hand the whole time.  And involuntary movements may have been the medical term, but she squeezed my hand several times as she struggled and I know that she was with me. Since I was a little bitty girl I have always known that God was real, but on that night at the age of 30 years old I looked him in the face. My mom's eyes had been closed for two days straight with no sign of her opening them.  As she begin to fight for her breaths she opened her eyes and she began to cry.  I couldn't help but think she was in some kind of pain.  My pastor walked in as she was passing and this was the first question I asked, he said, "don't you know, she is seeing heaven."  I have to admit I have researched this for a week now and can't find any better truth! After a long struggle with the ventilator on it was turned off.  I held her hand and laid on her chest as she took a few more breaths and was gone.  The whole time all I could think was "just one last hug". 

This week has been so very hard, I've never felt heartache quiet like this ever before. I tell myself I am OK and really believe it but when my house settles down and it's time for bed I cry like a baby. It's funny how much different you look at life after you loose a parent. It puts into perspective just how precious memories and the small things really are. The memories of growing up with her have come flooding back like they were yesterday and for that I am thankful.

 My 3rd grade teacher came in the funeral home on the night of visitation and  her comment has stuck with me more than she will ever know. She said "that woman worshiped the ground you walked on". My hope is that whenever I'm unsure or loose complete faith that I will try to see myself through her eyes and try to remember that she thought I was one of the most special people on earth.

When I was a little girl my mom would play the piano and let me sing.  As I sat in church this morning I thought to myself about our favorite church hymn and how strange it would be if we were to sing it.  As the choir director called out the # I couldn't help but laugh a little, sure enough we sang it in church this morning and all I could think was "Yes God I see ya"!

Thank you Lord for the woman who gave me life and made it a little sweeter.  I will carry the memories of her forever in my heart!