My mother will soon be 89. Her cognitive function has been slipping sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly. It is harder and more challenging for her to remember how to take a shower, how to fix breakfast, when to take her medicine, to distinguish between the phone and the TV remote. My sisters and I planned a three-week visit. I came from Georgia ten days early to give Kelli who lives near mother and deals with her increasing dementia every day. Then Shannon came so we could brighten the dark winter month for Mama and visit with one another, something that does not happen frequently. Also, we could talk face-to-face. All of us about what is coming. The need for change, for more support, for increased assistance in daily living.
It’s funny how God is always there before us and has us just where we are needed when the need is greatest. The day before I flew in, Kelli took Mama to the emergency room. Kelli and her husband canceled their retreat, and the three of us took shifts at the hospital for the next ten days, making sure Mama was never alone. She was so sick that the last two days she was hospitalized, Mama did not know why she didn’t remember the week before, at all. She didn’t remember any of the touch-and-go moments of pneumonia, enlarged heart, kidney failure. In a way, it was good not to recall the pain. The struggle to breathe. Not understanding why she couldn’t just get out of the bed and go home – sometimes to her apartment; sometimes to Texas where she grew up and raised her family but had not lived for years. Confusion, fear, not knowing where she was or why she was there.
We three sisters texted, emailed, talked on the phone, and concluded: now was the time. Mama was no longer safe in her apartment. She needed skilled nursing when she left the hospital. Mama wasn’t even strong enough nor cognitively functional enough to go to assisted living. She needed to be in a nursing home. Shannon arrived the day we moved her to her new environment. The visiting we did the next ten days was mostly over emptying her apartment and deciding what of her belongings should go where. It was overwhelming. It was amiable. It was hard. Praise God we had already planned to be together. As she asked years ago, we made the decision, even though she couldn't. Mama needed more, and we could provide no less.
Since we left, Kelli and Mama have been on a rollercoaster ride of emotion, confusion, and realizing just how right the move was. Will she recover her cognitive function? Maybe, but not enough to allow her to live independently. Shannon, the geriatric nurse practitioner, returned to remote support – always a challenging role, especially for Mama’s baby. I, the oldest, staring down 70 with a compromised immune system, came home with acute bronchitis. Mama has been on a roller coaster of emotions with her sock monkey, Buddy, always by her side.
A month later, my gracious, God-given husband, made a weekend round trip and brought home boxes and boxes and boxes. I watched the stacks of photo albums and genealogy files go to the attic, dishes to the dining room, linens, quilts, furniture … And as our wise and thoughtful son-in-law who came to help unpack the truck was leaving, he said, “Nana, remember, it’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.”
With that, I think I can start one box at a time.
God abundantly supplies the needs of his children. He promises fountains, springs, rivers of water to provide for an overwhelmed and parched people. He reminds them.
It’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.
"I am your God ... Listen to me in silence … Renew your strength … Each one helps the other, saying to one another, “Take courage.” … do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand …
It's just boxes. It's not your Mama.
"For I, the LORD your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Do not fear, I will help you.” … When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys, I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water…
It's just boxes. It's not your Mama.
"I am your God; I will renew your strength … Do not be afraid … I will strengthen you … Do not fear; I will help you." (Isaiah 41)
Remember. It’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.
