Tuesday, July 5, 2011

prayer - part 3

Shortly after returning from the festivities in Baltimore, we would get a phone call from Steve's sister. Something wasn't quite right. She was taking Steve's mom to the doctor and would let us know what they figured out.

Beema had been doing so well that we were not prepared to learn the news that the cancer had returned and this time with a vengeance. There must have been a renegade cell left behind after surgery and it had spread throughout her body. There was no fighting it this time. Hospice was called in. Steve flew to upstate New York to be with his mom and a short time later she fell into a coma.

This was not at all what we were expecting. By now, you'd have thought I would have learned not to answer the phone. But I hadn't learned that lesson, so I picked up the receiver the next day to hear Pere (my step-Dad) on the other end. He and my mom were at the ocean house, about 3 hours from Baltimore, but were heading back home early because Mom was having trouble breathing. He'd call me after they saw the doctor.

God blessed me with some wonderful friends in Tennessee. Here I was, husband at his mother's side while she was slowly fading away, two small children at home, and my mom, possibly having complications from the disease that I had hoped she had kicked in the butt. I needed to be in Baltimore to know what was going on and my friends knew that. They swooped in and took care of everything on the homefront, including our kids, who were 4&2 years old, and they put me on a plane and told me not to worry about a thing. If you looked up Godsend in the dictionary, you would see a picture of these friends.

While I was in the air, somewhere between Tennessee and Maryland, my mom was being admitted to the hospital. I arrived at her bedside in time to have a few hours with her before she lost consciousness. She died the next morning, June 9th, at 9 AM, with her husband and children around her bedside.

I called Steve from in NY. His mom was still clinging to life, though she had not been conscious for sometime. Steve left his brother and sister to keep vigil over their mom, not knowing how much longer she'd hang on, and flew to Baltimore to be with me and my family as we prepared for my mom's funeral. Steve's mom passed a short time later, in the wee morning hours of June 1oth. Not even 24 hours after my mom had died.

That was it. Either I lost my voice or I was so mad at God that I just couldn't speak to him. Who loses two grandmas in one day?????

to be continued (and concluded - really)

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