7 years ago today, my mom stopped breathing.
We had carried her upstairs, and we were watching the Yankee game.
The seizures had never lasted this long before.
My dad went to the bathroom.
Her breathing got strange.
And then it stopped.
Nurses and friends came,
gave CPR so hard it broke her ribs,
I felt a panic so intense I thought my head would explode,
and then, she died.
So late at night, or really, early in the morning,
on this day, seven years ago,
I woke my dear brother and sister up
to say goodbye.
It's a pain I have trouble putting into words.
[and if you know me, you know that doesn't happen often.]
But in my pain, I say:
Thou Eternal God,
Thine is surpassing greatness, unspeakable
goodness, super-abundant grace;
I can as soon count the sands of ocean’s ‘lip’
as number Thy favours towards me;
I know but a part – but that part exceeds all praise.
[Valley of Vision]
God was good to me, even in my mother's death.
In my pain now,
in the strangeness that it's been 7 years,
in my wishing that she knew who I turned out to be,
in my wishing that she knew the people I love today,
he is still good to me.
Your prayers are appreciated, my dear friends.