About God's messengers

March 18 mosaic
Originally uploaded by maggiegracecreates

I got nothing this morning to show you. I haven't posted a mosaic in quite a while so I thought I would jump over to flickr and make one. I am absolutely loving the red and white quilt squares and that hanging garland of hearts.

Mosaic Maker is like a digital tear sheet for me. I simply favorite pictures in FLICKR then make my mosaic from that list. I can easily see that I am very predictable in my choices. Just like the huge rolling file cart of tear sheets at home, it has helped define my color preferences and style choices.

My lovely cyber friend Corey is undergoing an incredibly difficult time right now. I am lifting her and the entire family with extra prayer as they care for her very sick father. The story she tells today hurt me so much and brings to my memory the stories of loss that we have gone through.

I will not be offended if you stop reading right here, but I have found this medium to work in very mysterious ways and I am going ahead with this story in the hope that some of these people will read or hear about this and know that they made a difference.

From March through October - my Nanny - Frances Slaton - deteriorated physically and mentally. She fell and had a hip replacement. After the surgery, she was never the same. The reason for her fall was apparently a stroke and many more of those were to come in those few months. The brain damage caused this lady, who kept the church nursery and who stayed with "old" people in their home as a caregiver, to become disoriented and even violent at times. I participated in restraining her on more than one occasion - let me just say - that was one of the most emotionally draining things I have ever had a part of. She started this phase of her journey at Athens Regional Medical Center - spent some time at an Alzheimer's Specialty Facility in Atlanta - then the journey began the end at Hart County Hospital in Hartwell Georgia.

We are a small but close knit family, my mom, my uncle and his wife, me, my sister, our families, two cousins, and their families. Someone was in that hospital everyday. We all have families and jobs and things we had to do. Many a night, I finished working, completed the evening activities with my family, then drove the 35 miles to the hospital very very late and would stay until the wee hours of the morning, go home, shower and go to work doing it all over again. Exhausting - yes - regrets - not a single one.

Now the part about making a difference. The Hart County staff was wonderful - the care my Nanny received was impeccable - the care my family received was astonishing. We knew this journey would not have a miracle cure at the end of it. We knew my Nanny was going to lose this battle. That is a gut wrenching feeling, you grieve for months, exhaustion takes over, frustrations arise, hurt feelings can happen. Not in this case, there were no family arguments, we were allowed, even welcomed into this facility and her room at all hours of the day and night. The nurses arranged a cot for me during those really long nights. There was a tray of sustenance outside her door for us. The most direct way into the wing was an entry off the balcony, just beyond the nurses station - those night shift nurses left that door open for me or allowed me easy access in through it.

Nanny's medical and personal care was handled in a professional, dignified, and caring manner. Even when it appeared she had no clue what was going on, each person treated her as if she was still fully there. They spoke to her, informed her what was happening, told her what to expect if there might be pain or discomfort in whatever procedure. For those of you in the medical field - especially long term or hospice care, my Nanny was bedridden for all those months and only developed one, less than dime sized, bedsore on the back of her heel. That sore appeared less than 10 days before she died. That should suffice as a testimony of the care she received.

Toward the end, Nanny knew none of us, she simply moaned all the time. One night, the one most prominant in my brain, she was terribly restless and seemed uncomfortable and I started singing. Softly, like a lullaby, I sang the hymns I could remember. She would settle down and rest for a while as long as I did that. Being in that mind fog of fatigue, I had a terrible time remembering words, but as I took a stroll down the hall to kind of clear my head a young nurse simply handed me a hymnal from the piano in the assembly area. She had heard me and realized I was struggling. That gesture was one so filled with love and compassion. She had no words for me - just a kind smile and the only help she knew she could give me. She was God's messenger in that moment and I will always remember that she responded to my needs. That was the longest of the nights but also the night I knew God was there and was surrounding all of us with his people.

Again - if you all are still here with me - I write this in the hope that someone will know how much each tiny act impacted us. You may have thought we didn't notice, but we did. I also want each one who reads this to know that if you feel the tiny pull on your heart to DO something, you should. It was a hymnal and a smile - but the message behind that was so much bigger than I can describe.

Reach out - you never know what God has called you to do. Hart County Hospital administration - your people are the kindest and most caring we had dealings with. I thank each one of those people from the center of my heart and soul. Thank you.

Please lift Corey and her family up at this time. My prayer is for healing for her dad, but also that they all be aware that God is there too.

Have a wonderful Tuesday.