Their needs were so different, that it had become obvious my 90-year-old parents might have to be separated. But separation of these two lovers, married almost 69 years, was unthinkable! They had never done anything apart. I remember their blissfully happy retirement years in Mesa, Arizona when Dad once said to me, "There's a men's barbershop chorus here I'd love to join, but I won't cause Patty wouldn't be with me." In the same week Mom had said to me, "They have a ladies billiards club, and that would be fun, but Ed can't join so I won't either." Being together was the one thing they would never relinquish - until now - until life's "momentary troubles" forced it upon us.
Dad and I had toured many assisted living places here in the Greeley, Colorado area where they lived; but either there was nothing for dementia patients, or the cost was completely out of reach. Then the Lord suddenly and unexpectedly opened a window, and His timing was so perfect that we knew we needed to jump through the window without delay. This past week has been the hardest week - mentally, emotionally and physically - that I have ever walked through. In six short days I tossed out what they didn't want to keep, packed up everything else they owned, and loaded it all in a U-haul trailer. John and I drove them 1000 miles east to Carlyle, Illinois where my younger sister and her husband live. There we found a care center with a very nice assisted-living apartment for Dad, where he could still enjoy his stereo, his TV, his library visits, and the fellowship of others - and across the way an Alzheimer's wing for my mother, where she could get the 24/7 nursing care she needs.
The trip there was covered in God's grace, for it was not nearly as difficult as I had expected. We had to lift Mom in and out of the truck each time we had a potty or food stop; and we had to fetch both their walkers from the back and help them negotiate all the unfamiliar walkways and bathrooms; but we kept the car filled with praise, and our hearts filled with hope. On the second day Mom began to cry inconsolably, as if she sensed things were about to be very different. But Dad took off his seatbelt and leaned clear across until he could lay his head in her lap, his hand securely on her shoulder! My tears began to flow then, and haven't really stopped yet.
We all know this move was the "last stop." We all know it wasn't fair that my mother began her life in a hospital polio ward, and is ending her life in an Alzheimer's ward, suffering also from post-polio syndrome. We all know that separating the two of them was a cruel thing to have to do. But God's ways are so much higher than our ways. In a Spirit-filled prayer time with my sister, the Lord spoke to us both and said, "I AM doing these things according to My purpose. Lonnie, you are separated apart now to care for your parents until they die; Kelly, you are separated once again for the call of ministry I have placed on your life - the call to take My Truth to the nations. I am separating your parents so that I can have intimate time with each of them before I call them home - and so that they will learn to depend upon ME. Trust Me. There will be some who will be saved because of My light that shines in the midst of these places."
When I got back home last night my sister told me about the good day our parents had had yesterday. Mom was crying and asking for Dad, so the nurse called his apartment and he tottered across the path with his walker. She brought them ice cream, and put on their favorite CD - one they used to dance to! Then they each got into the two recliners in Mom's room (just like they had here in Colorado), peacefully closed their eyes, and drifted off to sleep, side by side. Separation of these two lovers? Unthinkable!
Shabbat Shalom.
