The Final War
Yesterday, I grabbed a few minutes to go by the hospital. It had been a hectic weekend, with my daughter's graduation from college. She and I were on our way to Dallas, and there wasn't a lot of time.
When I arrived, Richard (Karen's husband) was alone with her. I could tell as soon as I walked in the room that her condition had deteriorated severely. She gasped with every breath. He was seated by her bed, and as I walked in, he looked up and said, "Things aren't going very well today, Patsy." I held his hand for a few minutes and then sat in a chair on the other side of Karen's bed. I laid my hand on her arm and he and I talked. It was hard to see her struggling for every breath. He told me the doctor said her lungs had filled with infection, and that she probably would be gone within a day or two. After a few minutes, he said, "While you're here, I'm going to get a cup of coffee and let you have some time alone with her." It was a gift and a blessing I will treasure.
I prayed over her, asking God to end her suffering. A couple of times her breathing stopped, and I almost panicked. Not that I wasn't ready for her to go - but it was Mother's Day and she shouldn't die on Mother's Day, and her husband should be the one by her bedside, not me.
Before I left, I reached over and kissed her and told her I love her. I don't know if she could hear me, but maybe she could.
This morning about 7:00 a.m. I got the call. Karen died about 6:10 a.m. Richard was with her. Her pain is over.
God, I praise you for hearing our prayers. I thank you that Karen is no longer in pain. I ask your peace to fill the hearts of her family - her husband, her son and daughter and son-in-law, her mother, father, brother and sister, niece, cousins and aunts and all those who loved her. May they turn to you, the only true comforter and source of peace. Thank you for the example of courage that Karen was to all of us who knew her. Thank you for ultimate healing. In Jesus name, Amen
May 15, 2006
When I arrived, Richard (Karen's husband) was alone with her. I could tell as soon as I walked in the room that her condition had deteriorated severely. She gasped with every breath. He was seated by her bed, and as I walked in, he looked up and said, "Things aren't going very well today, Patsy." I held his hand for a few minutes and then sat in a chair on the other side of Karen's bed. I laid my hand on her arm and he and I talked. It was hard to see her struggling for every breath. He told me the doctor said her lungs had filled with infection, and that she probably would be gone within a day or two. After a few minutes, he said, "While you're here, I'm going to get a cup of coffee and let you have some time alone with her." It was a gift and a blessing I will treasure.
I prayed over her, asking God to end her suffering. A couple of times her breathing stopped, and I almost panicked. Not that I wasn't ready for her to go - but it was Mother's Day and she shouldn't die on Mother's Day, and her husband should be the one by her bedside, not me.
Before I left, I reached over and kissed her and told her I love her. I don't know if she could hear me, but maybe she could.
This morning about 7:00 a.m. I got the call. Karen died about 6:10 a.m. Richard was with her. Her pain is over.
God, I praise you for hearing our prayers. I thank you that Karen is no longer in pain. I ask your peace to fill the hearts of her family - her husband, her son and daughter and son-in-law, her mother, father, brother and sister, niece, cousins and aunts and all those who loved her. May they turn to you, the only true comforter and source of peace. Thank you for the example of courage that Karen was to all of us who knew her. Thank you for ultimate healing. In Jesus name, Amen
May 15, 2006
posted by pawatson at
5/15/2006 06:01:00 PM
