Goodbyes

Thank you so, so, so much for all your kind words yesterday. I didn't get home in time to respond to each of you personally, but we both soaked up every word and felt so loved.

When we learned of Nita's diagnosis back in late October, the whole term "glioblastoma" was new to us. We researched, and we knew. We knew it wasn't good. It wasn't survivable, short of a miracle. Ryan understood that from the very beginning and made his peace with it, trusting God with the outcome of her life each step of the way.

She had two options. Have surgery and try to have a little more time, or not have surgery and probably say goodbye in a matter of weeks...or less. She chose surgery. She wanted to fight. She wanted to live. She wanted to be healed here on this earth and enjoy many more years of life.

Her surgery was successful in terms of the doctor removing the tumor, and we were amazed at the life we saw back in her eyes just days after the operation. Life and light we hadn't seen twinkling from those eyes in many weeks had returned again, and that made us so happy.

The plan had been for her to start chemo and radiation - just to try to slow the regrowth of the tumor - but over the course of the next few weeks, each time she stood poised to begin treatment, she faced a medical setback that rendered her unable to begin.

In January, she faced the biggest setback yet, and it was at that point that her husband asked all of us not to talk about the specifics of her condition on any form of social media. Nita lived on Facebook, but he isn't a social media guy and I think the publicity of it all was too overwhelming for him. We respected his wishes, but oh my goodness, how hard it has been for me to not write more fully about these last few weeks. I process my life by writing, and while I journal every day, there are some things I process better here, in this space. To not have that freedom nearly took my breath away.

When we saw Nita in the hospital down in Indianapolis at the beginning of January, after the last setback, we were quite certain she would never come home from the hospital. It was so bleak. So scary. So unexpected. But she rallied, and after about a week and a half in the hospital, the doctors sent her home, on hospice care, and they gave us a timeline of about two weeks.

God gave us almost eight.

The last eight weeks have been utterly exhausting and utterly memorable. While she was home, she required round-the-clock care, which her family and friends took shifts doing. Ryan and I spent every Monday and Thursday evening from about six in the evening to one in the morning caring for her, and then we'd come home, get a few hours of sleep, get up, and do another day's work.

My part of that was actually incredibly easy. I made a meal at home and packed it in the car to take for us to share with her. I talked to her if she felt like talking, took pictures to capture memories (since we knew our time was short) and helped Ryan however I could. He, though, had the bulk of the responsibility, and I will have to devote an entirely separate post to his remarkable compassion and care of his mother.

I didn't go with him last week for our two shifts, because we were watching Deuce, and I didn't want him to be in her way. Ryan sent me a selfie with his mom on Thursday, and though she looked tired, she was smiling and sitting up at the table, trying to eat dinner with him.

Ryan's sister called over the weekend and said she seemed to be worse. She tended to vacillate between up and down days, so we thought she might just be having a bad day.

When we went Monday night, the change in her was marked. She was completely bedfast and sleeping most of the time. (Her body REFUSED to let her rest for most of the last eight weeks. She rarely slept, and if she did, it was not a deep, sound sleep.) She did awaken for us, looked us both in the eye, called us by name, and told us she loved us.

Ryan had the privilege of spending three whole hours with her that night, just the two of them. We had no idea in the last half of that shift, she was less than one day away from meeting Jesus.

Ryan went to work on Tuesday, and we planned to go back out to her house that night for just a couple of hours to see her. After work, he asked me if I wanted to eat at home or wait and eat at his mom's house. We had leftovers I could have easily heated up, but I knew there was food out at her house, so I suggested we just go on out and eat there.

At 6:05, we were about a mile from her house when I asked him to stop the car so I could capture this beautiful sunset.

We got inside the house about five minutes later, and we found her even worse than the day before. The hospice nurse said in all likelihood, we had about 24-48 hours left. Ryan went into her room to see her and sit with her, and about 6:30, he asked if I could call his boss and a co-worker to tell them he couldn't come to work the rest of the week. He needed to be with his mom. I went upstairs to call, and at 6:40, while I was still on the phone, Ryan sent me a text that told me to come to his mom's room immediately.

I ran downstairs and found the family gathered around the bed. Twelve minutes later, Nita was in Heaven.

None of us knew it would be that day. But I'll tell you this. From the very beginning, Ryan said he wanted to be with her when she passed away, and he was. He sat by her side, held her hand, and prayed her Home.

Our hearts hurt, but oh my goodness. We cannot wish her back into the fight she's had over the last eight weeks...four months...even the last 25 years of debilitating asthma.

In the days to come, I'll probably tell you more pieces of the story, now that I'm free to process it here again. But I wanted to try to fill you in a little bit, and I wanted you to know how thankful we are that the Lord gave us a beautiful evening to say our goodbye, and He answered our prayer to let Ryan be with her for the final moments.  I'm so grateful for all the little decisions we made (like not eating at home or running errands on the way) that made that possible.

God is always good. Always faithful. Always leading in the details.

(This photo was from our wedding day in 2012.)