Journey with My "Mama"

I don't even know if I can do this entry or even if I should, but I figure I can try it, and if I think better of it or God moves me not to post it, I can just delete it...but here goes:

As my mother lies dying, ( and everybody dies, and everybody suffers something in life, so I do not want this to be a "feel sorry for Sue" blog by any means!), I have much time to ponder and think and remember and pray and cry. I have literally cried more this summer than in my whole life combined; I am not a cry-er by nature; I always had to watch a sad movie or something to get to cry--when things were very sad in real life, I was often numb. Not so this summer. Anyway, God has been working in me through this grueling time since June 10th. My heart had actually become somewhat hardened toward my mom who has lived with us for almost 5 years and I had forgotten who she really was. However, from the first of her hospitalization, all that hardened, selfish wall came crashing down; I felt so tender toward her, like a proverbial mother taking care of her darling little one. I found myself murmuring "Mama," which I never in my memory remember calling her, but it was right and appropriate. I have seen her dignity stripped from her as she was tossed around, naked, like an Auschwich prisoner, crying out for someone to help her, someone to stop hurting her. I have looked into her bewildered, childlike, trusting, loving eyes. I have laughed at her wit when it would shine through, been proud to have her be so kind and gracious to those who cleaned her up or gave her water. I have held her hand, repeatedly told her how much I love her and Tim loves her, and the grandchildren love her and my brother loves her, and her sisters love her, and so on and on. I have fed her and I have even changed her; I have dressed her wound; I have helped her to the bedside commode in the middle of the night; I have reassured her fears after what seemed a bad dream. I never in a million years thought I would be able to do some of the things I have done, but it is true that with God all things are possible. I have prayed with her, pleaded with God for her, and read His Word to her. I remember Esther saying what a privilege it was to serve her mother as she deteriorated and feeling so bad that I did not feel that way, and then all of a sudden, it dawned on me what a miracle God has done--I honestly can say this HAS been a privilege. What more is there in life much better than giving to another human being, comforting them, connecting with them, thanking them. Wow. God did this wonderful thing for me. Not that I wanted my mother to suffer so that He could do this, but somehow in His wise plan of all eternity, it works this way. I want so badly for my mother's suffering to be over, but our times are in His hands. I thank God for the peaceful place He has allowed my mother to be in right now (Coastal Hospice on the Lake--what a wonderful place). I feel so awed that He allowed my mother to go there.
And I am thankful for my mama: she is a great mother who would do anything for her kids, she is a highly intelligent woman who painted and read and kept all the finances minutely and beat us all at vocabulary games. She has wit and grace and is a real lady. She is kind and appreciative of whatever someone does for her. She is quiet and listens. She rarely complained although she lived a life of physical pain. She loved reading to me and to my kids, and we all love reading now ourselves. She is a very strong lady, too. She lived by herself for almost ten years after my dad died. She never wanted to be a burden, and she was not one. She gave me life, she cherished me, she worked for me, she made me clothes, she sat up with me when I was very sick, she changed me and cleaned me, she comforted me when I had bad dreams or a broken heart; she taught me about God and took me to Sunday School and VBS; she encouraged me through school and college and having my own kids; she would have given her life for me if it was required and in some ways she did give her life for me; she told me again and again that I was a "wonderful daughter." But I really am not, although I am glad she thought so; I have tried to do the right things; I'm just so sorry I failed so often and was so selfish at times.
Mama, I am so so sorry the end of your race has been so hard, but you ran a great one, and I thank God you are my dear mother, and I pray for the time you will have no more pain, tears and suffering, but only rejoicing evermore. I love you.