Endings

When I was in nursing school, I got my first job as an LPN on a medical/oncology floor. It was the only job available and I was desperate for money. Like most nursing students, I wanted to go into obstetrics or pediatrics. Nobody says, "I want to work with the elderly and cancer patients."

But when I finished school, they wanted to hire me as an RN. I liked the challenge of the floor and the hours they were willing to give me, so I stayed, and guess what I found out? I have a talent for helping when it's time for things to end.

It's not a skill that you list on the your child's school information sheet when they ask you what talents you can share with the class. But it's invaluable when your neighbor who's caring for her terminal daughter calls you and says that something has "changed" and could you please come over and you get there and have to say, "Yes, she's close" and she passes away that night. People need someone at times like that who handle the hard things, and I can handle the hard things.

I'm finding my skill in much use these days as two essentials in my life are ending. The first isn't a person, but a place: Meridian School. I love this school. For the last 7 years, I have given my life to this school. And it is over. In the final moments, I had to say, "Stop trying to save it. It will not be what it should be. Let it go with dignity." I cannot tell you what it cost me to say that. I had to be strong and it was hard.

In the near future, this experience will be repeated with my mom, who I love more than I can express. I am grateful that I can be strong for her, can help as things come to an end; grateful that God gave me the skills to do so. I hope that she can pass with dignity and peace and that I can be there to help her.

It is difficult for me to talk about these things--my mom and the school--they are sacred to me because I have given so much of myself to them. I pray that God will increase my talent, increase my strength, that I might be able to do what must be done.

My mom and dad with Josh at his graduation from Meridian School in May.

Crying

A friend stopped me after church today to ask me how I was doing.

I started crying and said, "I want my mom!"

Now that the end is near, I find my desires becoming more and more childlike. How do you live without your mother?

My mom has been crying a lot lately. I have been crying, too. I feel....sad.

She wants to stay here with us, and we want her to stay, but that is not one of the options anymore.

Sob.

Summer

One month of summer is gone and I'm already feeling like it's rushing by.

I work like a whirlwind during the school year, so I've come to rely on the summer as a time to rest and refuel and do all the things that I have to put off the rest of the year because I'm too tired and I just can't do everything.

In this month, I've...

• caught up on my scrapbooking. Yes, I did. All six books current and cute (if I do say so myself). We couldn't eat at the table for 2 weeks while I worked, but it was worth it.


• cleaned my house. In the summer, my house is clean. Everyone does their jobs and I do more and it's so orderly that I never want to leave.


• read and read and read. I've been through so many books already that I can hardly remember what I've read. I'm actually a little tired of reading at this point - I need a break. :)


• put my house back together. Our remodel that began the first of May still lingers. I've painted the bathrooms and hung mirrors and had the carpets cleaned (so much furniture moving) - I even cleaned out David's office. The last things left are putting baseboards back and painting one more bathroom.

It is good. It is satisfying. Bless the summers for allowing me to just stay home. I'm always tempted during the summer to just quit working and stay home forever...but I know I'd soon grow tired of it and wish for something new. I need change.

So I'll just enjoy the moment and the joy of summer.

Making Plans

I am a planner.

I find it essential to my well-being and productivity to think ahead and plan what I (and my family) will be doing. Consequently, I have a very well-used planner that I always have with me that has writing on every single page (I prefer the old pen-and-paper method; it's just more satisfying to me than the electronic gadgets).

Today, my mom and I made plans.

What do you want to do as you get sicker? Be home with hospice or in the hospital?
Answer: Home with hospice.

Do you want family around as you get sicker?
Answer: I want my family to come and be with me, but I don't want anyone to do anything that makes them uncomfortable or afraid.

What do you want for your funeral?
Answer: I just want a graveside service, but I don't want everyone to be out in the heat (in Arizona). Just keep it simple.

What do you want for a casket/burial?
Answer: Don't spend a lot of money on it. It's just going in the ground. I'm not real particular about what city I'm buried in, just so long as your dad and I can be buried together.

These were hard plans to make because making them meant facing painful realities. We cried a lot...and after a bit, decided to talk about something else.

I'm glad we made plans. I'm glad I know what she wants and that she had the chance to tell me. I'm glad that we could cry together and plan for a future that isn't what we would choose, but one that we can face because we thought about it and talked about it and planned for it.

I think planning will give me strength for what is ahead.

My mom and I in 1974.

Cancer and Faith

There was once a woman with cancer. The cancer grew undetected until it weakened the woman, but once discovered, it was fought with courage and knowledge and most of all, faith. The cancer flowed at times, and ebbed at others, but at last, it seeped into new spaces with a speed that overwhelmed and frightened and pained the woman and those who loved her.

So, together, they clasp hands and pray and hope and love and look to God who is "aware of your sufferings and enfolding you in His arms."

A Joyful Graduation

Well, it happened.

My oldest child graduated from high school.

I don't think it has hit me because I didn't shed a single tear at the ceremony. A couple of people asked me how I was doing and if I was okay and honestly, I was doing great! I was happy for Josh and all the other kids, many I've known since 3rd grade. It was a cool ceremony - I wasn't even bored at all and usually, there is at least one speaker where I'm thinking, "Did we really need this one?"

I am excited for Josh and his future. I know he's ready to take the next step and move on with his life. And I don't have any regrets from his high school years because we went to everything that we possibly could: basketball games, soccer games, baseball games, drama productions, heck, I even went to his prom with a raging fever this year just so I could see the kids all dressed up (well worth it; I highly recommend it).

Maybe that's why there's been no tears. I know that he lived these past four years as fully as possible, and I was a part of that as fully as possible, and I feel satisfied and content. Like I've eaten a really good meal, just enough, not too much, and every bite was delectable.

I also know that this boy, my boy, will always be a part of my life.

So, no tears, just joy for all he's accomplished and for all his possibilities.

Josh at age 8 and ten years later at (almost) 18.

Payback

Josh graduated from seminary yesterday. It was such a satisfying moment, especially when I thought of all the mornings that he didn't want to go and we insisted that he go and I got tired of making him go. I admit it; there were times when I wanted to just give up the fight and let him have his way. I'm glad I didn't.

One of the speaker's joked with the kids that they were changing titles in the church. Whereas before they had been "young men" and "young women", they were now going to be (cue ominous music) "young single adults." Josh says he's okay with that.

Yesterday in Josh's church class, they asked for a volunteer to be in the hot seat. Josh volunteered. They then proceeded to ask him all kinds of questions about his future plans, like what he was going to do for college and mission and how he was going to live and support himself and a family. Our bishop told me that the leaders all expected Josh to flounder at some point, but he didn't. Josh told me it was because I had already talked to him about a lot of those issues and we'd discussed what he would do (I got a big smile there).

I think this week is going to be one of those gratifying ones where as a parent you get some good back for all the work you put in to your kids.

Yay!