Saturday, September 18, 2010

Golfers, Day Fourteen of Hospice

Mother still breathes, and still moves steadily toward the end of her life, but at her own pace.  That makes sense, as she most definitely lived her life at her own pace, which, for the most part, was at high speed.

My parent's house sits on a golf course in Richardson.  They had built it 25 years ago when it was time for them to move out of their aging house in Lakewood and get into something more convenient and also closer to my sister and me and their grandchildren.

Mother really did design this house, and it is built so the outside pours in everywhere. All of the hospice care-givers have mentioned how much they've enjoyed it, as we have situated her bed in front of a window with an expansive and enjoyable view.  And, periodically, all of us head to the back porch to sit and relax a bit and watch the golfers.  

That's what especially hit me this morning.  No one knows what kinds of stories are being played out behind the closed doors of any house.  In this house, of course, we are lovingly waiting for our mother to move from glory to glory.  In others, marriages heal and break and heal again, children are reared and loved and yelled at, people get up and go to work, or get up and despairingly long for work.  

And some people get out on the golf course for some fresh air, building of skills, friendship . . . and of course frustration (we've seen some pretty awful golfers!).  

The point is:  life goes on, even in the midst of death. It must, and it is such a good thing.  My life may have temporarily come to a standstill, but God is alive and active and in the work of redeeming all things. Births are still taking place and people are falling in love and playing games and slamming their golf clubs down (honestly: I looked out the window just as I wrote this and saw someone do that!), and joy still fills the soul.  For this, I am grateful.

1 comment:

Vicki Attaway said...

Now that I can picture your mother's surroundings, I can get a sense of the peace that is to come. From what you have written about your mother, Christy, I think that she must have had a panoramic view of life, kind of like what her body now touches from in front of that window and what her mind may be remembering even now.

Interesting and unique, building a house on a golf course. Kind of like Eileen.