Waiting for Death

One of my underlying sayings for life is to choose and celebrate life. 

In doing so, I find it is a positioning of myself toward God to embrace and walk fully into what is before me and to be able to stop in awe and wonder at who God is as reflected in the world around me.

Recently I came to the realization however, that I have been waiting for death and positioning myself toward it.

It's been a difficult season sorting through the myriad of emotions that accompany caring for someone with a terminal illness, especially when it is your mom.

When I first moved back to BC last July, my mom was going rapidly downhill and there were a couple weekends where she told us this was it, she was ready to go and wanted to say her goodbyes. Every day was filled with the tension of whether or not this would be my last moment with my mom, my last memory. There were moments in the middle of the night where I would peek up from where I was sleeping on the floor and breathe a sigh of relief that she was still breathing. Every hug, good-bye or 'I love you' was potentially the last and so I treasured each one. Every action I took was preparation toward her upcoming death. My entire life was on hold as I waited for her to die.

Although she still has terminal cancer, a year and a half has passed and she is doing leaps and bounds better than she was before. For now she's stable and despite having bad days, can still do some of the things she loves, like cooking, canning or decorating.

A year and a half later and I am still positioned in a place of waiting for death. Now I say that with hesitation, because there is still a reality that she is dying and I do not want to be ignorant of this fact. But in the process I recognize where I have stopped living in many ways and tried to stop her from living. Hope has continually showed itself and I have ignored it.

My mom loves Christmas (as do I) and every year she goes all out with decorating her house. Over a number of years, she has collected ornaments and trees and has a variety of themed trees throughout our house every Christmas. Last year (along with the help of some amazing friends) I tried to decorate a bunch of them as she wasn't well enough to and although there were decorated Christmas trees it wasn't quite the same as the love and detail she poured into each tree. This year, I came home from Portland and the front entrance was ready for Christmas. It was an area that I wasn't able to decorate last year because positioning 200 white owls on a tree and hanging shiny balls from the railing is not a gifting of mine. But she spent time decorating it this year and it is beautiful. And it speaks of life, love and hope.

There have been times where I have tried to stop her from buying new Christmas decorations, because my thinking is 'what's the point?'... but daily she teaches me what it means to choose life and to embody hope in the face of death. Rather than surrendering to her prognosis, waiting for it to happen, she has been living fully in the waiting time and the unknown. Rather than succumbing to fear, she has loved deeper. She is making the most of every day she has with whatever energy and strength she can muster.

Yes, death is a reality. There are things that must be prepared for and it needs to be embraced as part of life. But a greater reality is the hope we have and this gives great reason for celebration. This is great reason to live more fully. This is great reason not to get stuck in the muck and mire of death - there is a tension to be embraced. I tend to get stuck in either/or rather than recognizing that there is life that encompasses it all. I tend to get overwhelmed with the questions and my own cynicism. There have been times where I have been too consumed with sadness over losing my mom that I fail to make the most of the fact that she is still here and we can enjoy the time we have together. There are times when I want to shut down and put up walls to prepare myself, but I realize I don't want to miss out on what the present is offering.

So every time I see a Christmas tree, I am reminded of choosing life. Of a love that is greater than I can comprehend. Of the hope we have in this life and beyond death. I have said it many times before, and probably will many times in the future, but I will say it again, L'Chaim - To Life!