Random Thoughts

I have spent the last six weeks taking care of my daddy and he doesn't need me anymore. He is healed - perfectly and completely. He is no longer bound to a bed with a mind ravaged by cancerous lesions and damaged lungs. He saw things in those last days that convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not afraid and that we were surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. But I'm a little lost. I don't know what to do with myself. I was so fulfilled caring for him. He was a true blessing to me and I am going to miss him. If any of you need a shave, a bath, your hair trimmed or food cut, I'm a really good caregiver. :)

Along with my rambling thoughts I thought I would tell you about the wonderful caregivers at Springlake Assisted Living in Paris. These are probably the lowest paid people in the medical profession. They are not licensed, they are not professionals - but these women and men have found their calling. They are the least of these who we will be serving in the kingdom.

One morning I couldn't sleep and arrived at Daddy's room at 5:30 am and there sat Wilma holding his hand because he was afraid and wanted company. Morning after morning Nita would bring him his coffee and eggs and cajole him into taking his medicine. Linda would arrive in the afternoon and laugh with him and sneak in ice cream. He died with a stash in his little freezer. Tabitha with her sweet country drawl washed his clothes every Tuesday and folded and put them away as though they belonged to her own family. Cecil visited everyday - often fixing the remote that Daddy would mess up and even came in on his vacation to check on him. Leah and Ronda answered his call light up to ten times in an afternoon when his mind began to slip away and he sat on the buzzer. And yet these sweet ones would come by day after day to visit and laugh and check on us. They even called us at home after he passed. What a wonderful group of people. Paid the least on this earth - rewarded the greatest in the one to come.

I would be remiss to not mention the hospice staff. They told me that there is much misunderstanding about them. That they are often referred to as angels of death - the ones to call when you are ready to die. That is such a lie. They helped my daddy live. He was able to live fully until the end because their concentration and purpose was to provide quality to his dying. Death is part of the continuum of life and it should be approached as fully as any other process. They made sure he ended his life prepared physically, mentally and spiritually. When Daddy's nurse Diana leaned over to try and hear his weak voice one day at the end, I was shocked to see that he did not speak to her ear, he kissed her cheek! That's living!

So all this is to say - things are not always as they appear to be. The first will be last; the last will be first. What appears to be the end, is really just a beginning. What seems to be sad and depressing is sometimes the sweetest of times.

Such is God's way. Don't believe what you see! Hold on to what you know is true. Look for God in everything. Believe Him! Life is good; death is not the end. I hope you enjoyed coming alongside me for the ride and.....if you get to heaven before me, Daddy's the one with the big blue eyes and the amazed look on his face!!