Strength

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."

-Ernest Hemingway


I have forgotten to mention that in October of 2009 I also lost my job. The company I worked for was making a lot of cuts and I became one of those cuts. At the time I was not happy, but later I realized that the Lord was in that too. What if I had been working when this happened with Mom? I might have gotten fired because I spent every single day of December by her side. This way I had been given some severance and was able to draw my unemployment.  Sure there are things that happen we will never understand, but God knows, we just have to trust him.

The first week at the hospital the doctor assigned to Mom's case, the head neurologist was not optimistic. She had had a massive stroke.  For two days we had no response, and when she did open her eyes, she could not speak and seemed confused. He pushed us to make a decision- she couldn't eat, there wasn't much to do unless we put a feeding tube in her stomach, but he didn't recommend that.  Why? I asked.  He did not really clarify but he wasn't giving her any hope.  I found out later that the doctors didn't think she'd make it past that first week, but there was a younger doctor there, fresh faced, and red headed.  He was concerned that I wasn't getting the whole truth, and he had more faith in Mom.  One day he stood by her bed, and then looked at me.  "Mary, look at your daughter." He said sharply clearly, her eyes went directly to me. He smiled at me. "She knows what's going on. I believe it." He told me quietly.  We had the feeding tube put in. If the Lord wanted to take Mom, he could, but it was not going to be because we starved her to death.

After a week she was released to come back to our home town to a nursing home. She still hadn't spoken, or moved her right side, but her vitals was good. She was not happy to be at the nursing home. When they wheeled her into the room where I was already waiting, she looked at me and sighed. I knew that look. Frustration. She couldn't tell me what she needed, but she didn't like this.  "It's just for recovery, and rehab." I told her, but she pursed her lips and turned her head away from me.  I still had hopes that maybe she would completely recover.  I knew that she didn't like strangers, would not enjoy seeing new faces all the time, but we didn't have much choice at that point. I went home and cried myself to sleep.  Everyone tried to comfort me, my kids and my husband, but I felt like a failure leaving her there. I got up the next morning and went back to the nursing home, which was less than three minutes from my house.  I spent the next month there and most days she would just sleep.  She wouldn't wear her glasses, they thought that her vision had changed. I brought her teeth, she wouldn't put them in.   She refused to do rehab most of the time. It was so hard watching her struggle and feel hurt.  I hated seeing her so tired and unhappy, but mostly I missed her voice. I would talk, and talk, and talk, until I grew tired of hearing myself.  It wasn't the same, sure I had done a lot of talking when we had our conversations before, but it was her voice I longed to hear, her voice that reassured me and her laughter, I missed that too. I was wearing myself out emotionally and physically. The doctors and nurses kept telling me I had to take care of myself too. I now had two weddings to help plan. I had a family at home. She would be ok if you missed one day. But I thought of the time I broke my leg in 2007, and how when I was still in the ER I called my Mom to tell her, she said tell Earl to come get me. My husband and my son were already at my side, but she didn't say "Ok honey, let me know later how you are. After you have surgery maybe I'll come up and see you." No she  said tell Earl to come get me, and I said "Please hurry, go get my mother." I wasn't going anywhere.