We just celebrated our daughter’s high school graduation. She’s the last of five and ready to set out and begin her new chapter in life. My husband and I had already begun making plans. We had been waiting for her to graduate because we really wanted to relocate closer to his work and move into a more rural setting. Slowly, we had been fixing up our house to put it on the market, but we were in no hurry.
One weekend, we began looking for our next home. We discussed wants versus needs and got giddy over the possibility of traveling more if we downsized until grandkids came along. Dreams were discussed, and for the first time, it all began to feel real.
Then one Sunday, we went to visit his parents. They live in the same area which is considered a different town, but is really only a few miles down the road. Lately, my husband’s mom has been declining in health. She bravely battled cancer for the second time in her life while also being diagnosed with early-onset dementia. She has pushed through these past four years, but around Christmas she confided in me that she was tired and wanted to go home.
Slowly, she has continued to decline, and sure enough, she sat each of her four living grown children down to share the news that she had signed the papers for a DNR. She officially placed herself on palliative care.
We made certain to come after Mass on Sundays and be there when his sister brought the Eucharist so we could pray together as a family. But one Sunday, I observed a dynamic that left me ill at ease.
She is rapidly shrinking physically; however, her spirit is alive and well.
She had been using a scooter to get around the house, and when we walked in, she was at the stove. She asked if we wanted an egg. I was taken aback that she was cooking! The week before, she had been too weak to get out of the chair. This felt like an improvement.
Then she asked again, “Do you want an egg?” even though we had both answered yes the first time.
We went to greet his dad, who also has mobility issues and walks with a cane. We carried on conversation with him, not paying much attention to what was happening in the kitchen. Then I heard some banging, something falling, a bit of muttering, and once again:
“Do you guys want an egg?”
My husband and I looked at one another.
“Yes, thank you,” we replied as if it were the first time she had asked.
I got up and walked into the kitchen and asked if she needed help. She paused, sitting on her scooter pulled up to the stove, looked at me, and asked again:
“Would you guys like an egg?”
I didn’t hesitate, even as my heartbeat did.
“Yes, we would love an egg.”
And she made us each an egg.
That week, I went into prayer. I knew what we were capable of doing, but I also knew it would be a difficult road. I discussed it with Russ, and we agreed to continue praying about it. During Mass the following Sunday, the Lord laid it deeply within my spirit. Russ felt the same, and we decided to take our discernment to his parents.
“Would you like us to come live with you during this time?” we asked his mom and dad.
Without hesitation, they both answered:
“Yes! When?”
And in that moment, our next chapter changed titles.
We gave our plans over to God, and He revealed a different kind of journey ahead. Now we are full steam ahead fixing up the house, packing, and preparing to integrate our family under one roof.
Sometimes God’s plan doesn’t look like the one we carefully mapped out for ourselves. Sometimes it asks more of us than comfort allows. But when we surrender and simply show up where He calls us, He provides the courage, strength, fortitude, peace, and love needed for the journey.
Blessings,
Shannon