The oxygen pump pulses in and out...
The hospital bed takes center stage where her favorite chair was...
The open window lets the musical tingling of her cherished wind chimes fill the air.
I sit in the living room wishing there was more I could do.
Wishing I could take the pain away.
Wishing I could give her back her voice.
Aching for her.
Aching for him.
As I read what a friend wrote as he dealt with a loss such as I am facing, I found his words described so perfectly what I am feeling now...
The worst part is that emotion—that dreadful little feeling of helplessness, that deep understanding that there is nothing I can do—I can only be. Doing is the easy part; it’s the being that is the hard thing. It’s so much easier to run someplace, to buy something, to go on an errand; but to simply be there…that is the hard part. To be there when her eyes open, to see her when she smiles or grimaces, murmurs..., and falls back asleep; and through it all, to not have the ability to stay the inevitable.
I do not know how much longer my mother will remain on this side of the veil. Even though I believe that this life is not the end...that my mom will be welcomed home with outspread arms...that we will be together again as a family after this life...I cannot help but wonder why it must be this way. I cannot say I understand why she has been asked to pass through this trial. I only know that I have to have faith that the Lord who sees the end from the beginning has a purpose for this.
I cling to the idea that...
"...We are made of the stuff of eternity. We are eternal beings, children of the Almighty God, whose name is Endless and who promises eternal blessings without number. Endings are not our destiny...Endings here in mortality are not endings at all. They are merely interruptions—temporary pauses that one day will seem small compared to the eternal joy awaiting the faithful...In His plan there are no true endings, only everlasting beginnings.” - Dieter F. Uchtdorf
...Only everlasting beginnings...
What a promise...
