A woman who fears the Lord is to be praised...

**I've started and stopped writing this about a 100 times. It's a mess, so I apologize for that, but it's done, for now.

On the morning of February 8, 2015, I got a call from my dad. He said he had to call 911 because my mom wouldn't wake up. I immediately got mad. I yelled at him and told him I was so mad that her doctors had her on so many meds. He, rightfully so, got upset with me, because he was just worried about her. I still feel guilty to this day for yelling at him that morning. Ben and I left the boys with his mom and then rushed to the hospital. It was bad. She was intubated. They had no idea how long she had been without oxygen. The next 2 days were horrible and long. We waited with anticipation hoping the neurologist would have good news, but it was never good. On February 10, we made the hard, horrible decision to let her go. She never would have wanted to live hooked up to machines. We sang at her bedside for nearly 2 hours after she was unhooked from the machines, praising Jesus for the life He gave her, but none of us were ready to let her go. My mom was a fighter throughout her life, and she fought to the end. She took her last breath early in the morning of February 11 while we sat by her bedside.

Over the past few years, as her illness got worse, I used to beg God to "give me my mom back." I screamed and yelled many times. I screamed again when I found out she wasn't going to get better this time. I yelled and asked God why He hadn't answered my prayer. I realized I had been praying for healing, and in the midst of it all, that's what He did, but not the way any of us wanted. We selfishly wanted her here with us. 

My mom was a wonderful person. She cared for all 3 of her children (and many she loved as her own) and we never felt un-loved. She did that while getting her bachelor's and master's degrees. She did that while working full time. She was wonderful. As we all got older, she felt like she had failed us somehow. She said she knows she wasn't always patient with us and I could always tell she felt a tremendous amount of guilt for some reason. I constantly told her that she was wonderful and we all turned out to be great kids (in my opinion anyway). I hope she knows how amazing she was to us.

My mom was the serious one, at least that was what she led us to believe most of the time. My dad is the joker of the family, and I've always been told I got his sense of humor, but I like to think I got a little of her's as well. She definitely made us laugh and we had so, so many good times with her.

(Ine, mom, and me before the Komen in 2005)

My mom loved being a Nana. She was so excited when Lindsey had Elijah. He made her a Nana and boy did she love being Nana. She sent an e-mail to a friend in October 2014 and it ended like this: "I want to live longer than what is expected and be a good nana."

(Elijah, mom, and Noah-Christmas 2011)

I think one of the hardest things about losing my mom is that my boys won't get to grow up with her around. I'm so glad Noah got to stay with her the summer of 2014 one day a week. He loved going to Nana and Pops house and he still asks about her from time to time. For that, I'm so grateful. I'm glad he remembers her now, but I know her memory will fade as he gets older.

I would give anything to have more time with my mom. I'm so thankful for the promise of heaven and that she's fully healed now. That is the only comfort I can find in it all. 

Tomorrow, September 2nd, my parents would have been married 37 years. Please take a moment and pray for my sweet dad, because it will be a hard day for him.

"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised."
Proverbs 31:30

I'm participating in a blog circle with some amazing and beautiful women. Click here and see what is happening with Bella this month.  You can follow the links back around to me.