Every morning is a gift
Not to sound cliché, but it really is. I’ve visited my grandma in the hospital about 4 or 5 times so far, being here for about 11 days or so. My mom and I have been praying that she could stay alive for at least another few days, because my decided he is going to fly out to come see her. We have no idea how much more time she has, but we’re praying. She hasn’t been able to talk, but I know that she can hear me praying for her. Her hands and feet are swollen from the lack of blood flow going through her body. She literally has no muscles left in her arms. Needles can’t go into her arms anymore. She’s not really “sick” with anything, but she is dying.
I think this has been really hard for me because she was one of the reasons why I am doing ministry. Her heart for people. Her devotion to God. I think God wants her home soon. She’s lived 91 years. My mom, my aunt and one of my uncles take turns going to the hospital EVERYDAY. My aunt goes at 2. My mom goes at 3. My uncle goes at 4. Some of my cousins have stopped by as well. And my uncle from NY. I try to go as much as I can. Every roundtrip costs me about $9. Train fares add up, unfortunately. But I want to be able to pray for her, every chance I get.
As I sit there and watch her drift in and out of sleep, I wonder what goes through her mind. Is she dreaming about heaven? Is she thinking about her deceased husband? Or missing the food she loved. Or going to church. Or reviewing her German. Or about World War 2. Or being able to talk. I take everything soo much for granted.
