From the Heart
You know that scripture that says “Do not be anxious about anything but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God,” Philippians 4:6? Well, lately I have been struggling with it.
On many days now, my anxiety is covered with overwhelming worry.
My thought lately is that Paul never had a 94-year-old parent that he could not physically touch and love on because of a pandemic.
My prayer, on many days, is that the people who care for my mom at her healthcare campus will love on her and recognize her needs.
Some days, her need is for a gentle squeeze of her hand. It can be the need for a smile, but sadly, those smiles are now covered by a mask that muffles her caretaker’s words, making it even more difficult for her to understand what they are saying.
Two weeks ago, I recognized that my mom was getting another infection. She was confused and struggling, even more than usual, to find the right words to say. This has been, for her, the first symptom of a UTI (urinary tract infection).
I requested a test for her. Now if you think the mail is slow just WAIT until you have to deal with the medical regulations, stipulations and bolognagations when you have an elderly parent. Yes, one of those words is a Janetism.
Her care is top-notch. Her doctors, nurses and therapists go above and beyond their call of duty, giving her the care that she needs. Their judgement and understanding of the Hippocratic oath is often smothered by the powers that be that don’t have the common sense that God gave a donkey or an elephant … just my humble (?) opinion.
As Mom’s confusion grew increasingly worse, so did my anxiety. I have had many a restless night even though I fell into bed with emotional exhaustion. If only I could be with her.
Mom has tested negative for COVID, yet, she has suffered from its effects. I recognize the effects of isolation and loneliness as I look at her, helplessly, through her window. So close and yet so far away.
If this pandemic teaches us anything it is the need for physical touch and community.
As Mom has said, “I hate this thing!” Me too, Mom.
Mom reminded me of the part of that scripture that speaks of thanksgiving as you make your requests to God. Mom said she was thankful for her roommate. She is quite deaf. Mom’s legs are, pretty much, crippled. They take care of each other, even having hand signals to let each other know what is needed.
Mom said she loves her caretakers. The chef, Cherry, has bologna on the menu for Mom. Her speech therapist allows Mom and I to Facetime on Friday mornings. There is always a laugh or two to be shared. (Thank you Lord for the gift of laughter) Let’s just say that Mom and I entertain Julie with our conversations. We all get therapy on Fridays.
I know that there will be more restless nights. They are inevitable. A lot is inevitable.
Mom and I are both making the best of our circumstances. A strong antibiotic is helping her. A reassuring husband is helping me.
I am thankful for a mother who taught me the scriptures even when I struggle to understand them. My faith still holds in spite of the pandemic. I just pray it is over soon.