Mom Part Two

I was a little surprised at the response to my previous post here regarding my mother. Thank you all for your kind words and some stories I've heard regarding your own relationship with your mothers.

Mom was discharged Friday and is home. She is still weak and we've found someone who can help her with the things she will need done for her. We are hoping her strength will increase enough for her to make the trek to the dining room where her meals are served.

Friday evening we received word that my father-in-law was being hospitalized.  Frankly it feels like my mother and Gail's father are in a race to the end.

Both Gail and I are spent.  I can't remember feeling so tired after doing so little.  I've slept some this weekend but am still just dragging.  We are empty.

Emptiness is something we Christ followers try to avoid thinking something is wrong, after all Christ is to be our sufficiency, right?  We feel guilty, like we are disconnected from Him in some way and therefore are empty. We see the disconnect only and try to fix it with the usual fixes, prayer, scripture, church attendance, involvement.

I am finding in my empty state a consolation with Christ. Were there not times as recorded in scripture that He needed to be alone? Did He not feel the emptiness that sometimes assails us as we travel through difficult life experiences? The consolation of His presence in these days is one of simply sitting with Him in the emptiness.  I don't even have the strength to try to fill it.

That lack of strength has brought about a deeper dependence upon Him, a dependence I would not experience if I still had the strength to try to re-arrange my emptiness to make it look more acceptable to my own harsh way of self-evaluation.

I am again, still in a very odd oasis.

Mom

As I sit writing this my mother is in a hospital. Sunday while Gail and I slept soundly in her sister's home, a delightful home set in the thick forest outside of Nevada City, a phone rang with the word mom was being taken to the hospital. I quickly gathered my things and started the trek out of the forest and into the world of a busy ER.

Mom was in bad shape. Heart failure had spiked in her aged body, fluid had filled her and labored breathing had done its deed and pneumonia was suspected. While sitting with her I watched the monitor counting her heartbeats jump from 68 to 130, then back to the mid 60's. Eventually her doctor who would manage her care came. A kind man, Dr. Rafik, explained she was also in renal failure. Her kidneys were in bad shape. After explaining all they would do to help her, we settled into waiting for a hospital room. It took a long time but eventually she was settled in.

Today at work I felt the need to be there, by her side for a while. I left work early and arrived at the hospital. My timing was perfect in that Dr. Rafik was on the floor and talked to me.  Mom is responding well and her kidneys are functioning better.  She looked good for a 92 year old.

Mom has been a difficult person. Her three children have needed to deal with the fallout of mom's mercurial personality. We never knew if we would have "nice mom" or "angry mom". Of her three children, I am the only one who is geographically close so the oversight of her care in these declining years falls to Gail and I.

This is not her first hospitalization. Numerous visits have occurred since early 2010 when she fell and broke a hip. That visit was interesting in that we had not talked for a year. We'd had an issue and she told me our relationship was over. I attempted to re-connect but she would have nothing of it. That year she sent me a birthday card, one of those flowery "Son you are wonderful" cards. She'd signed it, "You have made it impossible for me to even look at you. Mom". That gives you a glimpse into the world I've tried to navigate with my difficult mom.

Healing is interesting. With each subsequent hospitalization I've had to lay aside this fractious history between us. Each hospitalization was a stripping off of something in me. Often I've thought what it will feel like when she is finally gone. A sense of relief was the lead emotion followed by guilt and emptiness.

Today I am sensing a stab of grief. Real, honest grief. I see this tiny woman and a love for her is found. It is good to come full circle after a very long time in a journey with her.

This coming around to this point of love is interesting given where I am right now. As written earlier, I am at a place of emptiness and waiting for God's cup to drink from for refreshment. Here is one of the cups He is offering. It is a cup I did not know I was thirsty for.

Borderland

This week has been quite a ride. I am currently sitting on my front porch with a fine cigar, tall glass of ice water in hand and the white glow of my computer shining through dirty glasses as I try to piece together something cogent about this week.

I have been a loner most of my life so reflection and contemplation seem to come easily to me, or so I thought. The intrapersonal world resonates with me and the entrance into that world is simply being in a natural setting, thus I am outdoors as I write. It was good to learn about these areas and how they speak and operate for and to me. The framework has helped to define the areas and thereby shows me the areas where I am weak.

As I said, I thought reflection and contemplation came easy to me.  I am sure they still do but I hit a wall this week.  After nearly constant reflection through all the classes I’ve been through since January, I am empty of the energy needed to listen well. I am listening to my body in this and I am finding something beyond physical depletion. I seem to have come to the end of something within me in regards to this inner life.

In listening to my body, I am not finding angst over this apparent emptiness but rather peace. It is okay to find the edge of myself where, without letting God expand the border, I would not go any farther. I cannot push any farther but I am residing on the border of as-far-as-I-can-go and the-territory-of-where-God-will-take-me-next.  I am hearing Him tell me to rest on this border.

I am also hearing I should not retreat. A retreat into indulgence to relieve this emptiness would thwart the work God is intending. My past patterns when faced with weariness is to indulge in something that blunts the aloneness of this kind of desert. I sense Him inviting me to wait with Him on this desert edge and breathe in the beauty of simply being with Him.

Timing is critical, or the lack thereof. Checking my watch, metaphorically speaking, is to mark the time and He is asking me to enter into His timelessness. When He chooses to move me past the border is up to Him. In this holy timelessness I find satisfaction and peace for the emptiness. It is not up to me to refill my soul, I just need to drink from whatever cup He brings that will replenish what is depleted.

Without gentleness directed towards myself, this would be an uncomfortable place. I normally deal harshly with myself but some of this week’s work has been about gentleness. This is a new and serene oasis I once thought was not for me. I am liking this space God has created for me on the edge of what is to come.