On Friday, Mom was transferred to a skilled nursing facility. Oh, such a mixture of emotions. I was thrilled that she was able to leave the hospital, yet apprehensive because I knew that she would be alone there and was concerned that her needs would be met. I had and still have a great deal of confidence in this facility. It is obviously well run. It is fresh and clean. The staff seems to be well trained and caring. Darla and I have had to caution them about being too rough when they reposition Mom in bed. They seemed to understand and have been more careful.
Darla spent two nights with Mom in her new ‘home’ as she calls it, to make sure the transition is smooth and complete. As she left today, Darla cried all the way to the car. So very hard.
I will be going back tomorrow to check on her, do her laundry, and visit with her doctor. Yes, the drive between Big Spring and San Angelo is going to be long, tiring, and expensive. However, I can not imagine doing it any other way.
One of these days, Mom will be gone. Our time with her on this earth will be over. When that happens, I will look back on this time, all the nights on the hospital cot, all the time away from home, all the money spent on gasoline and hospital cafeteria food, and all the hours of sleep lost, as a precious opportunity to minister to and love the little lady who ministered to me and loved me all my life.
I must share with you something that Mom told Darla yesterday. This must be prefaced with an understanding that Mom’s 96 year old mind is still very sharp. She gets mixed up on some things, but for the most part she understands and remembers events correctly.
She told Darla that when she was in the hospital there was a certain housekeeping lady who came to clean her room several times. This lady would go to Mom’s bed and say, “You are my angel. You are here for me. I am praying for you every day.” Mom did nothing but be herself. She was talking very little because of the tube down her throat. This cleaning lady recognized God’s love in Mom’s presence and was touched by it. As her granddaughters, Darla and I totally understand.