This is a love story. Not the kind you would think of with a sentence like that, but one that is deeper than the core of this earth. Even though this brings me much pain to share, it is a story that needs to be told, retold and learned from. I have mentioned in an earlier post about my moms brother who is developmentally delayed due to an infection after a fall when he was four years old. Physically he is a man, but he is still a four year old in his actions and mind. In 1969, my Grandpa earned very little. He was an uneducated man, but was strong and worked hard. This and his wife raising 5 children and making everything by hand got them through. But never with extra. He lived with him until he was 20 years old. But there came the day he became too much for her. They had to send him to a facility equipped to care for him. It was like death to her. But she sent him quilts she had made by hand, fruits she had grown and canned herself. A gift worth a million hearts, but very little money. Priceless. Those quilts though ragged, and soft as angel dust, lie on his bed today. But it is still and provides comfort to a shadow, a memory providing nothing to him. Just a deserted beautiful piece of art, designer unknown except to us. The wrap touched by his mothers crooked fingers. I was called this morning that he had suffered a massive heart attack, along with a violent Pneumonia. Five months after I sat on the bed of my dying mother and promised I would take care of him. I am burdened with unbelief that he isnt long for this life. I drove to the hospital that is far from where I live. I spoke with the Doctor, and changed his status to that of DO NOT PROLONG HIS LIFE. No CPR, nothing. My dad says this the kind thing to do, let nature take its course, but for me? UI feel I broke a promise entrusted to me. When I stopped at the cemetery and funeral home on my way out of town, I discovered that my grandparents had saved and put $1500.00 for his burial expenses. Do you know how long it must have taken them to save that type of money? Years, when he only made but a small pittance of a wage. They could have done so many things with that money that probably seemed lie a million dollars, and who would have blamed them? Instead, they quietly payed it to a man in a suit with a plastic look about him. For the service of a son who would out live them by decades. They had to have known that my mom and dad would have payed for it, but there are some things that a parent has to do themselves. Burying your child is one of them. Please wish him comfort and beauty as he is getting ready for his journey. Where he will meet his parents for the first time a whole man. Not needing the quilt any longer.
Posted on: Tue, 05 Nov 2013 06:42:18 +0000
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