A year ago today I sat with my dad and brothers and, together, we planned my mom’s funeral. She was on life support for the 2nd time in 3 years and the dr’s were confident her body was going to fail this time around and she wouldn’t survive another day. We sat in my parents living room and grieved together. We found a place to have her cremated and decided where we would hold her service, who would speak, what photos we would share and so on. I slept in her bedroom that night with Rubina. I held my little girl and cried onto my mom’s pillow and was more overwhelmed with sorrow than I ever had been. The following day when we arrived at the hospital, prepared to say our goodbyes, her dr said she had miraculously (his word) shown some improvement. He was shocked. We were shocked. And so I spent the day holding her hand and singing her favorite worship songs as confused dr’s and nurses came and went while monitoring her slow, but steady, progress.
Over the course of the next 2 days she improved drastically. On the 3rd day she was taken off the ventilator. She was breathing on her own. She was awake. She was alive. I can’t describe to you the emotion that filled her room when we were all able to see her beautiful blue eyes again; to hug her, speak to her and kiss her cheeks. Her dr’s remained baffled but each shared how they love medical miracles. I fully believe in miracles.
My mom is a miracle.
My mom still suffers most days but she endures more graciously than anyone I’ve known. Most of her days are filled with pain but she recognizes that she is a miracle and that there is great purpose in her pain. My dad serves her the way Christ intended a husband to serve his wife; it’s one of the most incredible and sacrificial gifts I’ve seen one person give another. In the coming months I’ll share more details with you about her battles with health and my thoughts on long term suffering; I’ll share with you how our family has learned that the Lord is in control of all things and how there is much JOY to be found in the midst of struggle, pain and suffering.
This is one of my FAVORITE photos of my my mom and Rubina. It was taken 6 months after we planned her funeral. We are SO thankful.