Mom

A week before I left for Africa, my mother, Margaret Hlebakos died at the age of 86. She was one tough cookie who maintained her sense of humor to the end. She died on her own terms and in her own time, and there is much to be thankful for. Here's to you, Mom.

Lent 2010

Lent has taken on new meaning for me this year.
Oh, it’s still about waiting,
but this time instead of Jesus’ death and resurrection,
I waited for Mom’s.

Her kidneys shut down,
and she was expected to die about a month ago.
As soon as I got the word,
I went down and spent several days with her.
It was a good time of closure and good-bye,
in what we thought were her last hours.
But several weeks later,
until this past Wednesday,
she was hanging on.
not even in a coma yet.
She slept most of the time,
only waking every now and then to sip a little orange juice.
Everyone was amazed at her tenacity.

About thirty years ago on Easter Day,
when she was very drunk,
she shot herself in the chest with a revolver.
The bullet went right through her,
just missing her heart and lungs.
She survived with no ill affects
and people were amazed then as well,
and rightfully so.

But perhaps the most amazing thing to me,
is that she was given this second chance.
She now rests in the hands of God,
comfortable and at peace.
Quietly, she waited for Him to call her home
secure in his love and perfect timing.