A Beautiful Summer

Summer. This is the first time that I've written anything about those 3 crazy months, so it may be a bit scattered and lengthy.

I went home for the summer, something I wasn’t exactly wanting to do, but nothing else really worked out. I spent the first two weeks home job hunting. Yay. I put in application after application to anywhere I could think of. What I ended up with was a part time job at a hotel. It’s a nice hotel, the best in Las Cruces even, but as for the job…not so glamorous. I was housekeeping and laundry lady. And I worked evenings. Nothing like spending your summer nights washing nasty hotel sheets and cleaning up after rich people. I really didn’t like it and I was frustrated that I wasn’t being trained in other things, like I was told I would be. My friends told me to quit, my parents told me to stick it out and quit being so prideful. So I sucked it up and kept on working. I also took a summer class. Math. I went to class from 8:30-10 five times a week for five weeks. So between all the homework for that and working late nights I knew this would not be the summer I had anticipated.

But one of the biggest things I could never have foreseen was the hospitalization of my grandmother. She went in for back and stomach pain, which ended up being shingles and ulcers. Nothing that couldn't be treated, but things to be cautious of nonetheless. After a week or so there she was moved to rehab. She was only there about an hour. I got a text message just as I was lying down for a much needed nap. I wanted to ignore it, but I knew I couldn't' sleep unless I knew what it said. It read: “Mam-ma had a stroke, go to the hospital”. (Perhaps I should insert here that I was one of the only family members in town, as the rest were at camp in Colorado.) So I rushed to the ER to see my grandmother significantly paralyzed on her left side and unable to articulate any comprehensible speech. I’m 19. My family was gone. People were calling me for updates. How the heck was I qualified to answer them when I myself had so many questions and the nurses wouldn't give me the time of day?

I had to sign papers, make phone calls, try to find my dad a way back home, try communicate with my grandmother and give her what she needed, take care of the 2 houses I was watching, keep up with a fast paced summer class and work. This was insane. I spent hours and hours at the hospital: the ER, ICU, Telemetry. Room after room, hospital after hospital and rehab center after rehab center--it seemed like she was in every hospital in the city at least twice....oh right, because she was. Every great day of progress was followed by 2 bad days. Some days she would eat, others she couldn't. Some days she would walk, others she could hardly move. Some days she would talk, others she would just listen. Some days she was hopeful, others she was frustrated. But one thing never changed from day to day and that was her unwavering faith in her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I asked her what she did and thought about when she didn't have visitors. She said she recited Scripture over and over in her mind. And she prayed. She prayed for her kids, her grand kids, her church. She lived a life of constant prayer.

I saw her everyday this summer. Not because I had to, because I wanted to. I knew that when I left for Covenant I may not get the chance to just be with her again. She taught me so much in just a month and a half. I got to see a side of her that I had missed out on while I was selfishly busy with other things in my life. I saw her sense of humor, her love, her humility, her sincerity but most importantly, I saw Jesus in her. She would never want life to be about her or the things she had done, but her main goal in life was to honor and glorify her Savior and share the Gospel with her family. She made life about others. She gave everything. The ultimate servant.

I will never forget the last 36 hours of her life. The risks of busting her out of the hospital and taking her to her favorite (our favorite) place on earth were astronomical. We would be without monitors and hours from any hospital or clinic. The conditions would not be clean. It would be noisy. The idea of rest was highly unlikely. She would have to fully rely on my mom's nursing skills (which really isn't that hard, she's a great nurse). But when my mom sat down and firmly explained the risks to her she said, "Terri, I'm ready. I want to swing by Bloys on my home." Filled with tears and worry, my parents consented.

I went early to get our cabin in west Texas ready for her. Though some may have thought we should not have let her go, I will never think we did the wrong thing. It's exactly what I would've wanted if it was me. I will never forget that beautiful Friday night when I came back from church to find at least 40 family members standing outside our cabin singing hymns into Mam-ma's window. I will never be able to fully express what that hour or so meant/means to me and my family. It was beautiful and right and good. I remember my grandmother lying there, weak as ever, tapping her hand on her thigh to the music and even requesting songs!

It was amazing to be wrapped in so much love and to see all the people that had been so blessed by my grandmother give some of that back to her. She got to see her family and say goodbye to friends that would have otherwise been unable to make it to Las Cruces. She even slept the best she had in 2 months. It was exactly what she wanted.

She spent one night in her cabin and then my parents took her back home. I was going to stay in Texas another night to close up the cabin then come back early Sunday but an aunt told me that I did not have time and I needed to go back that day. I stayed a few extra hours to close and say goodbye to good friends and family. I got in late Saturday and decided to stay at my grandmother's, where my parents had been living, instead of going back to my aunts, where I had been living. That night my parents and my cousin Lecy sat around my Mam-ma's bed. We knew she did not have much time left. She was unable to speak, though we knew she could hear and understand. I read Psalm 121 and Psalm 28 to her (some of her favorite passages) and we spent some time in prayer. It was powerful. I had been avoiding my goodbyes, but I knew they had to be soon. I got to sit with her alone for a while that night. I could never have thanked her enough for everything she had done for me and I admitted that we would never be able to let her go, but that I knew she was ready and she needn't hold on any longer for us.
I hardly slept that night. It seems like none of us could. The next morning was Sunday. My dad played guitar and sang some songs. She was almost completely unconscious at this point, but as we sang and I held her hand she gently patted it with what little strength she could muster and we knew she was with us. She passed just a short time after that in the quiet of her own room in her own bed. It was peaceful. Easy. She was home, and just in time for church!

It was a beautiful process. Painful, but filled with joy and hope. She would hate for her life to be recognized as things she had done, but she would rather us focus on what her Savior has done. She showed me Christ in a new way and I am so thankful that I got to be there for it all. God's timing is perfect. He sent me home for the summer, he allowed me to be there when none of the other family could and he let me be there to say goodbye. God is so good and I forget it so often. I pray that I never forget how he has used my Mam-ma and the testimony she was able to be to me. I pray that I will constantly remember that my help is not of me or my strength, but that my help is of the Lord.

Psalm 121:1-2
I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made the heaven and earth.