Ramblings from the ICU

I write this as I sit in a recliner, not sleeping at 1 am, by the bedside of my mother-in-law in the ICU at Skyridge Medical Center. 

A few days ago she was present at my youngest daughter's high school graduation and the next day at our graduation party, smiling, enjoying. Less than 24 hours ago my father-in-law found her unresponsive and not breathing when he tried to wake her. She had not been well. She had a cold. She was diagnosed with an Alzheimer's like dementia a couple of years ago. Still, none of us expected to be sitting by her side in the hospital so soon. She lays in a coma, a machine breathing for her. Her body twitching constantly, almost violently.

It seems ironic that she spent 40 years tenderly caring as a nurse, and now she is helpless to do anything for herself.

I grieve for my dear father-in-law who has walked tenderly by her side for 55 years. His heart is so visibly breaking as he grapples with the reality that he must soon kiss her goodbye for the last time.  He has spent his days this past couple of years doing more and more of the most mundane tasks for her. Still, he aches for more time with the wife he loves. He chokes up and his eyes fill with tears when he explains that he had planned to help her wash her hair first thing yesterday morning.

I grieve for my husband who loves his mother so deeply and so well. I grieve for her grandchildren.

Tonight I have the privilege of being alone with her as the rest of the family hopefully gets some sleep. She is the third person I have sat beside through one of their last nights on earth. All three have loved the Lord, all three had bodies that didn't quite want to let go of this world, all three had children and grandchildren who were not quite ready to say goodbye.

I am not quite ready to say goodbye. I only really knew her for a few months before insidious disease imprisoned her in her own body. I feel cheated out of the friendship I sense we would have shared.

I don't quite know what to do with this close up view of death. I can see that death itself is an enemy, not the original plan, even though it ushers us into the presence of the lord. I can see that the truth in Paul's words "to live is Christ, and to die is gain" becomes easier to embrace when we have walked the long desert roads of life on this planet for many years. I can see that someday, some day soon in the accounting of eternity, I will be the one saying goodbye to my earthly life and loved ones. With that realization a desire to walk the days I have been given holding tightly to my lord wells up in me.

Thanks for taking time for my middle of the night ramblings.

Beth

P.S. She departed to be with the Lord  about 12 hours after I wrote this post. Now we grieve our loss and celebrate her entrance into heaven.