For “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass.  The grass withers, and the flower falls,but the word of the Lord remains forever.”    (1 Peter 1:24-25)

It was unsettling.  I stood beside my father as he bantered lightheartedly  with the monument salesman in the outdoor display yard.  We surveyed a variety of tombstones as we walked around this ‘PRETEND’ cemetery. Dad wanted something simple so as not to UPSTAGE the family marker of his ill-fated parents, brother and sister, next to which my mother’s and his shared stone would be erected within THE YEAR (whether they are dead or NOT).  

Dad made up something PITHY to be inscribed, and was pleased with himself.  I had no idea how much these things cost and was flabbergasted that my Dad just paid for it OUTRIGHT, that is, after he asked for a seniors discount.  Always a clown. My Dad instinctively began to put the monument man’s pen in his OWN pocket.  The guy had a sense of humour.  He said, “Well THERE’S your discount.”  My Dad, a retired pastor, pulled two more pens from his pocket to show them off.  BOTH were from funeral homes.  It drew out a good laugh.  When the salesman said, “IT’S YOURS!  The stone on the lot is the VERY stone that will be placed on your grave!”, it took the breath right out of me. I shuddered. Dad said, “Now your mom and I can die in peace.” “AWESOME”, I said.  “…and Nadine, since we are being cremated this lot can accomodate 4 MORE urns.” “Yup, Dad, that’s TERRIFIC news.”

I’m sure this kind of shopping trip happens in other families.  The weird bit for me is that AS WE WERE sampling textures, colours, and wording, my Mom was undergoing ANGIOPLASTY in a hospital more than two hours away.  We weren’t allowed to accompany her, so this is how we were KILLING (HA HA) time. Granted, this UNDERTAKING (Heh heh) was a PLANNED part of their trip to the area: Visit my sister at her cottage, duck into town to visit some family,  purchase their cemetery plot, and buy their tombstone.  A wholly PRODUCTIVE itinerary.

Things were going well.  They visited my sister.  CHECK.  They visited some aging family members.  CHECK.  They bought the cemetery plot.  CHECK.  This is where it all went to hell.  OF COURSE they NEEDED to go check out their new real estate!  It was a very hot day and a very steep hill.  Their grave site was down near the bottom.  Down, down they went, only Mom didn’t get back up – at least not without help.  My Mom had suddenly crumpled to the ground, practically ON TOP of her future resting place.  When her dementia allows it, and, she remembers bits of what happened, she says with a smile – “I just wanted to lie down for a while and try it out.” VERY FUNNY.  I don’t know what’s wrong with my parents.

When I got the news of her heart attack, I took a TERRIBLE 8 and a half hour train ride. My brother picked me up after midnight.  He lives 2 hours away from where my mother was in hospital, so by noon the next day we were by her side.  AND SO IT WENT.  My sister, my brother, and I, my nieces,  my aunt and uncle took turns reminding my Mom where she was and why she was there.  It got OLD really FAST. Dementia is incredibly difficult.

After days of waiting (it was a weekend), she was FINALLY transferred, alone, to the Ottawa Cardiovascular Centre where she underwent an angiogram and had two stents put in.  She was returned to Pembroke hospital at night. In the morning it was CLEAR she had been in MUCH distress and was VERY disoriented.  She embraced my Dad like a rescued child clings to their saviour.  I’d never seen either of them like this.

Recently, when I’ve had my parents on the phone,  before saying goodbye, I began telling them that I love them.  My kids, my husband, and I, tell each other ALL the time, but within my family of origin, admitting love just wasn’t necessary.  Love was always expressed in action rather than in words.  It took a few goes, but my parents had both reciprocated my profession a few times before these unfortunate happenings.  I think they welcomed it at the hospital.  In fact, they seemed a little surprised and delighted to hear those words.  It did wonders to my personal journey of healing from, well, LIFE.  

After her very hard night in the hospital, an unusual thing happened.  My parents began to recount the early days of their courtship.  I heard their love stories like I’ve never heard before.  Thankfully, my mother has retained some good long term remembering.  It was heartening to listen to them.

I had the privilege of accompanying them home to their rather isolated house, tucked into the woods near Burleigh Falls.  Things got a lot better for my mother.  Although she couldn’t recall all that had happened she eventually recognized that she was, in fact, HOME.  After a couple of days she was humming to herself and skipping around the house like she always did, feeding the birds, sitting on the deck, talking about good reads, and looking at photo albums.  This time was PRECIOUS.  I feel so blessed to have glimpsed my Mother as herself – these fleeting moments were beautiful.  All is well with the world when she is in her own home with her beloved and a sense that everyone and everything that she holds dear are all okay.  God I MISS her. (that’s a prayer, by the way)

The glory of the flesh is like the flowering of the grass.  Although a part of it withers away, God’s good purposes remain.  The Holy Spirit within continues to burn with the heat of love, and whistles out the rhythms of sweet memories that comfort us.

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” (Genesis 8:22)

I wish my parents didn’t have to change.  I know that we learn about God through the ebb and flow of nature.  The seasons illustrate the balance between change and changelessness.  At first, the idea of things simultaneously transforming and staying the same, seems impossible.  Change is impermanent and permanence is unchanging.  God is hidden in mystery AND is being revealed through it. It’s mind boggling.

My mother’s heart attack sent me down a path of reflection.  How do the joys of our lives BALANCE with the suffering?  How do we accept the change and all the work that IMPRESSED upon us?  I am relieved that nature ALWAYS finds a way to return to balance.  The difficulties we experience DO NOT last forever.  God is AWAYS taking all that hard stuff, holding it, reworking it, re-creating our lives and the world around and enables us to adapt and grow with the changes.  God is always working to make ALL things new.  My Mom is already in God’s loving care, being gently enveloped in God’s creative force.  She is not in the process of ending, but in becoming.  She dwells in love just as she always has and always will.

I am easily distracted with all the things I THINK I still have to do with my parents and my family. Sometimes I forget to appreciate everything we’ve ALREADY done; the experiences we’ve had, the memories we’ve made, and the things we’ve accomplished.   I don’t readily notice that these are the very elements that are steadily pushing us all FORWARD to new life.   

I hope that the changes in YOUR life compel YOU to REFLECT, to find all those little bits of gratitude that get LOST in the hussle.  I hope you find moments to cultivate whatever is in you that tells you that you are a part of something GREATER than yourself.  That all stages of life are sacred puzzle pieces that lead to some kind of cosmic WHOLENESS.  For me that is the ground of all being whom I know as God, and the Holy Spirit of Christ dwelling in MY heart.  Somehow this mysterious unity gives meaning and purpose to all that we experience.  Savour the earthly moments.  Delight in transformation.  Don’t be afraid.

An aside:  Being prepared for one’s funeral is beneficial to those who continue to walk the earthly walk.  I don’t, however, recommend you physically try out your purchases before the big day.