Today, heaven gained a saint, but I lost my mom.

When mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in Feb 2005, we learned the 5 year prognosis for women with her stage & level was only about 20-30%.   Mom lived 4 years and 3 months.

She did remarkably well the first several years, really only suffering from the effects of treatment.  In the past year, the cancer proved more resistant to treatment and began to affect her quality of life.  It spread to her bowels, causing an obstruction and requiring ressection surgery last fall and continued to impact her overall health.

As things progressed, I knew we were at the beginning of the end.   In April, a catscan revealed that the cancer was invasive in her abdominal region, and it had caused another obstruction and a perforation.  Although the doctors performed surgery, they were unable to make the necessary repairs and we learned just how bad off mom’s health was.

In the ensuing month in the hospital, and the weeks mom spent at home, I knew time was running out.  Each time we got bad news, I grieved, and then acclimated to the “new normal”.   In this past week, I saw that mom had declined even more and realized we probably only had a few weeks left, but didn’t fully appreciate it.    Yesterday, when I learned mom had to go to the hospital, I was looking forward to spending time with her, letting her know I loved her.   I was unprepared to learn when I got to the hospital that she was “unconscious and unresponsive” and there would be no last words.

I had already told mom I loved her and I know she knew it, but I regret that I couldn’t say good-bye.  I am comforted to know that she no longer experiences pain and I believe her soul is with Jesus.  I believe in heaven (and hell) and am thankful for mom’s release from sin and pain.

But … I miss my mom.  I grieve for the moments we won’t get to experience together, the memories my children will make that she won’t be part of.  I grieve that my children will not remember who their Grammy was and how much she loved them.  I ache at the thought of not being able to call her and get her help with a recipe, or draw on her wisdom on so  many things.

I know there are many verses of Scripture that I could cling to, but right now, my heart is filled with words of Rich Mullins’ song, “Hold Me Jesus.”

Well, sometimes my life
Just don’t make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small

CHORUS:
So hold me Jesus, ’cause I’m shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace

And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It’s so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart

CHORUS

Surrender don’t come natural to me
I’d rather fight You for something
I don’t really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I’ve beat my head against so many walls
Now I’m falling down, I’m falling on my knees

And this Salvation Army band
Is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin

CHORUS

You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace

Help me Jesus to need you more than I need my mom.

(If you are interested in details about the memorial service, please check back at her caring bridge site)