A Broken Thanks

It was a heavy weekend. It was a good weekend. My time with Mom was beautiful and hard. She is doing the hard work of making life decisions. Today I feel the weight of broken bodies of people I love.

After all, these bodies of ours sag, strengthen, break, heal, wrinkle, give way, grasp, fall, jump, ache and bow. What about our souls? Are we not one person weaved together in the breaking and the healing? Though her body is weak, I see the beautiful strength come out of my mother’s eyes as she speaks words of peace with confidence to her doctor. I listen in amazement as feverishly she brushes my concerned hand and says, “This too shall pass.”

“It’s scary, Grandma,” Daughter #1 said as she looked at Mom’s IV machines. “It’s still me under here,” Mom says about her mask as she hugs my daughters close to her on the side without tubes. Mom lovingly pulls down her mask to show my little one her face. “See, I’m in here,” she says. The little one hugs her and then jumps off to play on the chairs in a row.

They go, and I stay with her. We make lists together. Mom is organized even in these moments. We watch a tv show. We look at People magazine. She tells me how she would make a gown differently. She misses sewing. “You still have eyebrows,” I observe. She smiles, “Do I?” not really caring. We eat together. She only eats the soup. I realize how much I eat.

As I hold her hand, my finger rubs over her thin skin and those veins. Those veins I would marvel at during church when I was a little girl. We pray. It’s time for me to go.

On my knees this morning trying to pray all I could say was:
The Lord is my Shepherd. The Lord is her Shepherd.
We shall not want.
He makes us to lie down in green pastures.
He leads us beside quiet waters.
He restores our souls.

That’s as far as I got. It’s where I am.

My knees protested on the tile. Bodies again. So, today I offer to God and to you this
Broken Thanks:

55. Friends who check on me

56. A mother who invests still in me

57. Daughters loving their Grandma in an uncomfortable situation

58. My big sisters

59. Palliative care coordinators who talk with me for 30 minutes

60. Psalm 23

61. Finishing antibiotics on 3 girls!

62. A Church praying

63. A husband’s love

64. Peace

65. this season of sorrow


6 thoughts on “A Broken Thanks

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