Holding Her Up

She taught us many things that cannot be measured. Many things that could never even be explained. One important, vital crutch to her last days, was she taught us how to hold her up, and in doing so, now, she holds us up. She is our strength and our pilar and we are strong. Yes, weak, but strong.

It came when the body could no longer function well. It came when she was weak and pain had over taken her limbs. It came when she could not even roll herself over in bed. It came when she could no longer lift her dog to the bed or maneuver her way to privacy. And it came when we least expected it. Cancer had taken over a body that was never to be more than a shell. But we still didn't know. Because there was still life and as long as there is life there is hope. And we learned, that hope goes beyond this life, and in to the next.

She taught us how to not only get her up, but to hold her up. We were the parents, weren't we supposed to know how to do that? But no, we knew, by then, that any touch in the wrong place, any fabric that wasn't comfortable, any scent, any change could be the wrong one for her ailing body. Still, she ever so gently would let us know that those things weren't comfortable and that it wouldn't work for her at that moment. Subject to change, of course, always, subject to change for the next minute, life would take a different course, and she wanted that familiar blanket, that scented candle, the aroma of bubble bath.

So there she was, showing Joe and I how to lift her, how to stand at the bedside in makeshift fashion, to serve as her anchor and let her pull herself up. She taught us how to hold her as she shuffled to and from the places in the house or the hospital. And we held her up in comfort as best we could, two parents desperately wishing and praying that this was a dream, a momentary inconvenience, a nightmare. But it wasn't, and still isn't. But she taught us how to hold her up. And now, she holds us up, she gives us strength to hold ourselves up, and each other. As an individual, as a couple, as a family, she is leading the way. In learning how to hold her up, we have learned how to hold ourselves up, and shuffle, sometimes slowing down, sometimes changing course, often, resolved to tears, but finding laughter and purpose and strength and wisdom, and living in God's grace. A grace that is there for the asking and the taking, a grace that is His greatest gift. And there is enough for all of us. It will never run dry. He will never forsake. We will never forget. And we have today to put the lessons to good use. We held her up, and now, unexpectedly, and very brilliantly, she is doing the same for us. What could be more beautiful?