Tonight I have all the feels. I sat and popped in Kayli's Goodbye video that she made just for me...her mama. As soon as it began and I heard her say, "Mom"...I fell apart. Tomorrow marks seven long years since I have heard her voice say my name. Mom. It sounds silly to even type such a thing as small and trivial as a name. Yet, when you have been without someone you love for so very long, it isn't the big things that stir your emotions necessarily; it's the small ones. How often do we take for granted the sounds and voices of those in our home? How many days as a weary mama did I want to hide away and ignore the thousandth call from my kids as they shouted "Mom" for so many things. How many times did I not savor hearing it? I ask myself this as i watch Kayli's video and listen to her voice say my name and all that I meant to her. I wonder if I always made her know (and my boys of course) how much I delighted in them and loved being their mama.
Going through suffering and loss gives you a perspective that moves you past the superficial and dives hard into the uncharted waters of presence. You realize quickly how many things truly hold no significance and need to be let go of. Sometimes that can look like sitting in a season of doing less to accomplish more with those around you that need it. It can look like saying no to many great things to create space for time to deepen those relationships that God has brought into your inner circle. Other times, it may look like sitting in the hard with someone even though you have no idea what to say or do...that is exactly the point. In all of this, I have learned that it never was meant to be about me. It was always meant to be about reflecting Jesus to those around us, especially in our own homes first.
Kayli taught this old mama of hers to love fiercely and always go deeper with people. People are the only commodity that you can take to Heaven with you. This is where we should invest the best parts of ourselves. She modeled this so very well to me. I am so honored to have been the woman that God appointed to be her Mom and get to come alongside of on her life's journey.
As Kayli entered her final day of earthly life, she awoke with a purpose. She pulled down her oxygen mask, looked at her nurse, Tina, and said, "Today is my day for goodbyes." She knew she was leaving soon and wanted to be sure she had her final conversations with those she deeply loved. I wish I would have had presence of mind enough to ask her how she knew that it was today? What did she see? What did she hear? But, when you all of a sudden shift from the long goodbye with an indefinite ending to TODAY, your mind isn't exactly functioning sequentially and logically. I all of a sudden knew that I didn't have enough time left with my daughter. I was trying to set the brake on the day as fast as I could, but realized that I couldn't...I had to walk through it at her speed. The day was filled with family and staff coming to say goodbye to our daughter. She loved seeing each one and letting them know how much she loved them and would see them again soon if they were a Christian. If not, she would let them know how desperately she wanted them in Heaven with her and how they could have the same assurance that she had. She was incredible! Throughout the day, there were not enough moments to say "I love you" to each other and just hold each other as we had always done. She spent time with her Dad and brothers as well and wanted one last day of family time.
That night, around 4:30am...Kayli took off her oxygen as she knew her time had come. She gracefully embraced her transition to Heaven as her Dad and I climbed in her bed with her. We sang her lullaby (More Precious than Silver) and prayed to the Creator-thanking Him for the gift of 21 years of our only daughter. It was the hardest, most beautiful, most heartbreaking moment of my life. She slipped into Heaven and we felt broken for the separation that was now ahead of us. Her hard was finally over and ours shifted from watching her suffer to learning to live without her .
It's easy to focus on the huge hole that her dying has placed in our family. Not a day goes by that I don't remember and feel it. Some days are more jagged than others and that's okay. That is truly the price of great love. But, we also want to focus on some of the sweeter parts of that last day as well...banana pudding and Swenson's. Kayli had been unable to eat well for a few days prior to her homegoing due to her inability to be without her oxygen mask to breathe. Surprisingly enough, she wanted a Swenson's hamburger on that last day and Uncle Mark did not hesitate to run right out and get it for her. Even though she couldn't eat it, it was a source of levity for us and a beautiful act of love from Mark. So tomorrow...we get Swensons! The other thing she asked for was banana pudding. Now, banana pudding isn't something easily stocked at the hospital and we had no idea where the notion came from for her to crave it...but she did. Her two amazing nurses, Tina and Amy, made it happen and were able to feed her a few bites to satisfy her desire. It was such a touching scene to watch...Tina staying after shift to give Kayli a few bites of pudding...what an act of love on Tina's part and such a special way to wrap up her earthly relationship with her patient of all those years. She and Amy faithfully fought this battle with Kayli for most of her 13 years. We love them and so many others dearly!
I share all this to remind you to live in the little moments of life and choose to really listen to those around you. Don't grow weary (even though it's hard) in hearing your kids or spouse say your name a million times a day. Someday those voices may not be there and you will be me...longing to hear their voice say your name just once more. Love big and celebrate the ordinary. Live poured out for Jesus.
Going through suffering and loss gives you a perspective that moves you past the superficial and dives hard into the uncharted waters of presence. You realize quickly how many things truly hold no significance and need to be let go of. Sometimes that can look like sitting in a season of doing less to accomplish more with those around you that need it. It can look like saying no to many great things to create space for time to deepen those relationships that God has brought into your inner circle. Other times, it may look like sitting in the hard with someone even though you have no idea what to say or do...that is exactly the point. In all of this, I have learned that it never was meant to be about me. It was always meant to be about reflecting Jesus to those around us, especially in our own homes first.
Kayli taught this old mama of hers to love fiercely and always go deeper with people. People are the only commodity that you can take to Heaven with you. This is where we should invest the best parts of ourselves. She modeled this so very well to me. I am so honored to have been the woman that God appointed to be her Mom and get to come alongside of on her life's journey.
As Kayli entered her final day of earthly life, she awoke with a purpose. She pulled down her oxygen mask, looked at her nurse, Tina, and said, "Today is my day for goodbyes." She knew she was leaving soon and wanted to be sure she had her final conversations with those she deeply loved. I wish I would have had presence of mind enough to ask her how she knew that it was today? What did she see? What did she hear? But, when you all of a sudden shift from the long goodbye with an indefinite ending to TODAY, your mind isn't exactly functioning sequentially and logically. I all of a sudden knew that I didn't have enough time left with my daughter. I was trying to set the brake on the day as fast as I could, but realized that I couldn't...I had to walk through it at her speed. The day was filled with family and staff coming to say goodbye to our daughter. She loved seeing each one and letting them know how much she loved them and would see them again soon if they were a Christian. If not, she would let them know how desperately she wanted them in Heaven with her and how they could have the same assurance that she had. She was incredible! Throughout the day, there were not enough moments to say "I love you" to each other and just hold each other as we had always done. She spent time with her Dad and brothers as well and wanted one last day of family time.
That night, around 4:30am...Kayli took off her oxygen as she knew her time had come. She gracefully embraced her transition to Heaven as her Dad and I climbed in her bed with her. We sang her lullaby (More Precious than Silver) and prayed to the Creator-thanking Him for the gift of 21 years of our only daughter. It was the hardest, most beautiful, most heartbreaking moment of my life. She slipped into Heaven and we felt broken for the separation that was now ahead of us. Her hard was finally over and ours shifted from watching her suffer to learning to live without her .
It's easy to focus on the huge hole that her dying has placed in our family. Not a day goes by that I don't remember and feel it. Some days are more jagged than others and that's okay. That is truly the price of great love. But, we also want to focus on some of the sweeter parts of that last day as well...banana pudding and Swenson's. Kayli had been unable to eat well for a few days prior to her homegoing due to her inability to be without her oxygen mask to breathe. Surprisingly enough, she wanted a Swenson's hamburger on that last day and Uncle Mark did not hesitate to run right out and get it for her. Even though she couldn't eat it, it was a source of levity for us and a beautiful act of love from Mark. So tomorrow...we get Swensons! The other thing she asked for was banana pudding. Now, banana pudding isn't something easily stocked at the hospital and we had no idea where the notion came from for her to crave it...but she did. Her two amazing nurses, Tina and Amy, made it happen and were able to feed her a few bites to satisfy her desire. It was such a touching scene to watch...Tina staying after shift to give Kayli a few bites of pudding...what an act of love on Tina's part and such a special way to wrap up her earthly relationship with her patient of all those years. She and Amy faithfully fought this battle with Kayli for most of her 13 years. We love them and so many others dearly!
I share all this to remind you to live in the little moments of life and choose to really listen to those around you. Don't grow weary (even though it's hard) in hearing your kids or spouse say your name a million times a day. Someday those voices may not be there and you will be me...longing to hear their voice say your name just once more. Love big and celebrate the ordinary. Live poured out for Jesus.