Her breaths are stable, steady. It's the best hope we have to hold onto right now. Grandma had a difficult night. The infection made it's way into her blood. Slowly pacing it's way through her body, weakening her. Such a sick little lady. And I stood there, helpless, wishing and praying I could make her feel better. Her arm so swollen from a blood clot it was twice the size of mine. All the hand wrinkles smoothed into the touch of a child. So soft.
And yet, I was talking to my mom this evening and she told me my Uncle John had found a book on Grandma's nightstand she had been reading before she got so sick. He took it with him and gave it to my mom. The name of it - "Heaven Is For Real."
A four year old boy recovering from a burst appendix witnessed the beauty of Heaven and shared events he couldn't have otherwise known. A beautiful true story.
While I've been so distraught over how much her life has deteriorated these last 6 months, she's comforting me from her hospital bed and doesn't even know it. A grandma to the core.
"I'm not crying because I feel so sorry for you...I'm crying for me."
No comments:
Post a Comment