Mom's had the last laugh

I posted some pics of Mom over at Writes of Passage today, and of the last picture we found on her camera.

Oh my, she's had the last laugh, for sure...

Bed Dancing and Glimpses of Home

Friday morning, a week ago, before Mom passed away on the 17th, I was getting ready for the hospice aid to arrive when I noticed Kenny Chesney singing on TV. I'd muted the channel earlier because Mom was sleeping but since she loved Kenny, I turned it up. Mom immediately started shimmying from side to side in bed, smiling.

I asked her, "What on earth are you doing?" She just smiled that sweet smile and said, "I'm bed dancin'."

We just laughed and danced together for a minute. She was such a hoot and such fun. She always was. That's one thing I love most about the relationship we shared...we loved to laugh together, and we laughed together a lot!

View from Mom's gravesite at Georgia National Cemetery. Beautiful, isn't it? She would've loved the view. Of course, she has a much better one now.

I remember Mom awakening from a nap shortly before she passed away and, with anticipation in her eyes, she told me and Dad, "I feel like a big surprise is coming!" She giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. We told her, "Well, there is a big surprise coming." "When is it coming?" she asked. We said, "If we told you that then it wouldn't be a surprise."

I've no doubt that the anticipation she was feeling was for her forever home. God was drawing her closer to Him even as she was drifting farther away from us.

As my daughter and I drove back to Nashville on Saturday afternoon, I snapped this picture as we neared our turnoff from the highway toward home. Love the sunlight steaming down.

I want to share a bit of advice that helped me so much in recent weeks and months as I helped care for Mom (and that might help you, too, if you're in a similar situation as I've been): The person dying gets to choose.

Two friends who had already lost their moms, who have walked this particular road of cancer with a parent, told me that early on and I took it to heart, and it made such a difference in the final weeks and days. It gave me a peace and a "release" in that my role was to aid Mom in her journey that God was leading her on, not to help determine the path she would take. God was already working in her to lead her steps on that particular path. My role became to help her take those steps, and to do so quite literally when she could no longer walk on her own.

Another photograph taken moments later before my daughter and I arrived home.

I treasure every moment with Mom, every overnight hospital stay, every "early wee hours of the morning" chats when she couldn't sleep and we'd sit up and talk. Every one of those times is written on my heart and has changed me and my view of this life, and I think for the better. When my time comes to cross over from this life to the next, I'll do a better job of it because of watching Mom go before me.

This picture was taken moments before we got home on Saturday. How special to witness the last light of day, and a glimpse of Home, while knowing that Mom resides in the presence of eternal Light and Life.

Mom's favorite book of mine was Remembered, and there's a passage from that book that she and I read together most recently. I had no idea, when writing it at the time, how closely it would describe my feelings right now:

"Death is but a pause, not an ending. When the lungs finally empty of air and begin to fill with the sweetness of heaven's breath, one will realize in that moment that though they have existed before, only in that moment will they truly have begun to live."

Mom has truly begun to live, and though I miss her in a profound way, and will for the rest of my life here, I'm thrilled for her and for where she is now, and for the day I'll join her there.

Thanks, everyone, for your emails and cards. My inbox and mail box overflows, and your prayers and support are making such a difference in the day-to-day. Bless you!

Much love...

Mom's safely home

My sweet mom, June, went home this morning and is now in the presence of Christ, whole and free of cancer and delighting in His perfect love. We look forward to joining her one day soon.

I appreciate your loving prayers and support during her illness and in the past few days of her being at home in "her sunroom." My dad, older brother, and I were by her bedside this morning when she breathed her last, and we know with certainty that she's now basking in the Light of Life.

More later, but for now...grace and peace. And my thanks.

My precious mom

Yesterday was an incredibly difficult day. As you may know, my mom, June, was diagnosed with metastatic gallbladder cancer in February. After a long, in some ways, yet oh so brief journey in others, we learned the results of Mom's most recent CT scan.

The scan revealed that the tumors on her liver are continuing to grow at a very rapid rate. The cancer's tenacity, coupled with Mom's already compromised strength, remove the option of further chemo. And Mom's body couldn't take it even if she chose to go that route, which she hasn't. We support her decision with all our hearts, even though it's heartbreaking.

Mom and me on the first day of a family cruise that we were

privileged to take together (May 24, 2009)

Mom's chosen to spend her remaining days at home, so tomorrow we're moving her there and will care for her with the help of hospice until the moment she steps into Jesus' arms. The doctors are hesitant, understandably, to estimate how long Mom has left here but they're saying a handful of weeks or perhaps even days. So many variables play into that, not excluding what God can and might do. Mom could be with us a while longer than that, but we don't want her to linger here, suffering, just to satisfy our selfish desire to keep her with us a little longer. So we're asking God to take her home when He wills, and we know He knows best.

I ask your prayers for strength in coming days, and a special request for my dad as he faces the reality of letting Mom go. They celebrated their fifty-fifth wedding anniversary in March, and he can't fathom what life will be like without her, and doesn't want to. Below is a picture of them together taken at their last visit to our home in Nashville this spring.

My parents, Doug and June

I'm so grateful to you, friends, for your loving support in recent weeks and months. Your notes and emails, your shared stories of having walked a similar road with one, or both, of your parents, have brought me comfort. God is gracious and full of mercy, and my family and I are resting in Him.

I'm with her in the hospital now, spending our last night here together, and I'm watching her sleep, so incredibly grateful for the woman she is and the mom she's been to me for almost forty-eight years.

Heaven is already sweeter knowing she'll be there soon, and my family and I look forward to the day when we'll be there with her.

Igbok.

Within My Heart - Coming Spring 2010

Many of you have written saying that you've pre-ordered Within My Heart (thank you!) and that you received a notice today saying that the book has been cancelled. Not so. The book's release has been delayed--from this fall to this coming spring.

For more information on the reason behind this change, click here to read the note I posted on my website today, or...simply keep reading.

Dear friends,

Many of you have written to inquire about the upcoming release of Within My Heart. Within My Heart was originally scheduled to release this fall, but due to family health issues it's taken longer for me to write this story than originally planned. While Rachel Boyd and Dr. Rand Brookston's story first captured my heart as I wrote From a Distance and Beyond This Moment, my recent weeks and months have been spent traveling to and from Atlanta to be with my parents as my precious mom battles metastatic gallbladder cancer.

My heartfelt thanks goes to my publisher for allowing me more time to finish Rachel and Rand's story, and my utmost gratitude goes to you, dear readers, for your enthusiasm over this story and for 'hanging with me' as I finish it.

Thank you also for your faithful prayers on behalf of my mother and my family as we walk this difficult road together--a road that is painfully familiar to many of you (as you've shared in your touching notes and emails). Bless you for the comfort and encouragement you've given me, to us.

I look forward to sharing yet another journey, Within My Heart, with you this coming spring. I have no doubt that God chose this time in my life for me to write this particular book, as hard as that seems to me at times. Though I may not understand His ways, I trust Him with all my heart and will continue to lean on Him for understanding.

One last note--please watch for a brand new six-book series that will follow on the heels of Within My Heart next year. More on that series soon!

Igbok, (Aren't familiar with that word? Click on it to discover the meaning)

Tamera

Timber Ridge Reflections Series

If you have a minute, check out my recent blog at Writes of Passage.