Where, O death, is your sting?
Right here!
The original verse in Hosea and the reference to it in 1 Corinthians 15:55 is meant to give the reader great hope in the victory of Christ on the cross. He crushed death and left it powerless against those who believe.
These last ten days though have left me feeling only the sting, not the victory in death.
Over a month ago a friend had a miscarriage and she chose to boldly and honestly
blog about it. I have no idea how she is so brave, but through her blog she has touched so many people, myself included. I have never suffered a miscarriage or even talked openly with a girlfriend that has, but somehow Jennifer's words stung my heart. The death of her precious baby stung! I had a hard time feeling the victory. Today she held a memorial service for Avelyn Grace.
I grabbed my phone and said hello to my sister as I rushed around to get out of the door for a playdate I had organized with our staff and board ladies and their young children on Wednesday, June 19. Candice's first words were something like, "now don't get emotional because I need to tell you something." Ryan was motioning that he had to leave and I tried to steady myself to hear the news. My Granddad, my mom's dad, had a stroke and it wasn't looking good. We didn't know much else.
My immediate thought was to do laundry. We were already planning a trip to his house that Sunday, the first in two years, but I wanted to be ready to leave early if we had to. I stayed by my phone, constantly texting my mom and sister and trying to figure out what was going on. In a fog I made it through the next few days and we left for Texas on Sunday as we planned. We checked into our hotel and went to the hospital. My granddad was transferred out of ICU that day, but he was on a no-children-allowed floor. The very kind nurse let the boys sneak into his room to say hello. They were cautious, but so brave.
Great Granddaddy with first Great Grandson
Sting!
Trying to put on a brave face for my boys was a little harder than I imagined. My Granddad was somewhat alert and nodded his head yes and no when I talked to him. He had use of his right arm only and was able to squeeze my hand. I was holding Nate in my arms and told the boys that Granddaddy used to pinch me on the behind when I walked past his chair as a little girl. He immediately reached up and pretended to pinch Nate on the leg, slowly and with much effort. Nate wasn't a big fan, but it made my heart rest a little easier. He was being his ornery self.
Granddaddy took me on rides all over to "show me off" to his friends.
He seemed to be responded a little better and improving some. Plans were being made to transfer him back to his hometown for months of therapy. He would have to relearn everything, including swallowing and breathing when sleeping. Having once been through this all before when he was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome a few years ago, I wasn't sure he had that much fight left in him. But, he seemed to be fighting!
We were able to go back to see him on Tuesday and I had a chance to sit and hold his hand while Ryan played with the boys in the waiting room. He smiled at me, a real genuine smile, but only with one side of his face because of the stroke. He seemed in good spirits and I honestly thought I would see him again in therapy on another Texas trip. When it was time to leave he was trying to lift his right arm that was tethered to the bed. My Grandma noticed and unbuckled the strap and he wrapped his one working arm around me and squeezed me tight. Real tight.
Sting!
My Grandma called about an hour later and he was regressing and went downhill quickly from there. Thankfully, he was able to be kept comfortable, transferred to a nursing home in his home town and able to die peacefully among so many people that he loved and loved him on June 29, the day we drove home to Kansas.
That really stung. And it still does.
As I type the memorial service for him should be wrapped up. My Grandma, mom, and two uncles set up a lovely display and were present for friends to come offer their condolences. I can only imagine the outpouring of love for such a wonderful man. At least 200 people attended.
Ben (and uborn Nate) got to take a quick sit on Duke, the horse that I learned to ride on!
I felt like I needed to write all this for my own memories and just a sense of "getting it out." It has been a strange week, trying to vacation with my boys, going along with the fun we planned while we were in Texas (a future blog post ) and yet checking my phone constantly and riding the waves of his improving and declining condition.
The Lord was gracious to allow me that one last hug and for my boys to see him. There is a piece of me that wants to believe that he waited to see me and my family before giving up the fight to stay on this earth. He knew we were coming to visit and he loved me and my boys so dearly.
I generally am a very heaven-focused person, knowing very well that this world is not where I really belong and there is so much more waiting for me in heaven. I am actually a little surprised at the sting I have felt from my Granddaddy's death. He was the man that taught me to ride a horse, showed me how to serve and love his wife every time he washed dishes, even stepped in after my dad died and walked me down the aisle, something I know was very hard for him to do. Almost all of my childhood memories are at his house. I am so incredibly blessed to have been the first Grandchild of such an amazing man!
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Christ is victorious over death and it's pull is only temporary. But, it still stings a little.
