Facing Death

As I write this, down in Florida, my mother, her brother and his wife and their daughter sit, in a hospital waiting. They are waiting for the passing of my grandfather or they are waiting for a miracle from God.

As I write this, I am faced with a flood of memories of my grandfather when I was a child, while my grandmother was still alive and the life and love expressed to us through them was unshakeable. There could be no two people who loved their grandchildren more.

At the age of 10 I lost my grandmother to liver cancer. We watched her fade with each day until we were told to "leave her alone" to rest. It got to the point where a home full of so much life and love became cold and silent. My grandfather grasping for every moment he had left of her. My mother and Aunt keeping vigil over her until finally, one night, us kids were escorted from the house to a neighbor's and my parents and aunt & uncle waiting with my grandfather. Waiting for that moement, where my grandmother was no longer present with us.

When us kids were shuffled back to my grandparent's house, we were told of my grandmother's passing. I wase crushed to the bone and at 37, I still feel her loss as it was yesterday.

At 10, I had no idea what was going on with my grandmother, nor did I even consider the reality of her death. Grandparents never die. They can't! Who will take care of the children whose parents tell them "no"? Who will sneak the children an extra slice of cake? Who will get on the floor with the children and play any game asked?

At 37, I have too much of an idea what my grandfather is going through. He's 88, battling the after math of surgery to remove a tumor in his colon. The questions that come into my mind and I am not there to ask the doctors. I ask a barage of questions of my mother, medical terms and what ifs? I'm not a doctor, but it has always been a kind of hobby of mine. I don't practice but I read and take it all in. I wanted to be a doctor but was discouraged.

As my grandfather lay in a bed in hospice and the minutes, the seconds are ticking away, we wait. A pain staking wait. We know it will not be long but when?! The torture of not wanting to put your head on the pillow in case the phone rings, you want to be ready for the bomb to be dropped, again.

As kids we did not know what was about to take place and were sheltered from the ticking away of time, waiting. But now as an adult, every second of his life counts.

This is time to take with God, to pray for those precious last seconds. Are those seconds going to be the time that God reveals something to my grandfather? Are those seconds going to be used to reveal something to us?

We are saved, we are Christians. My grandfather, we don't know. As Christians we know there is no death. We pass on to be Home with Christ. It is a transfer from here to there. There is no fear in death for those of us who believe. But what about those who don't? What if he does not believe? We pray that he does, we pray that it is not too late if he's not.

So, as we play the guessing game and pray with tears pouring out of our eyes for many mixed emotions, the ticking becomes deafening. The seconds tick down until.....