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Sunday, October 13, 2013

Blank Slate

Not sure what this day will bring.  It is Sunday, but I am ill prepared to go worship.  It will be a challenge as we relocate to initiate commitment to a new congregation.  Finding a faith practice home will be a part of the relocation of our physical home.  An important part of the process of the challenges that lie before us.   It is so much easier to just sit and write about all this than to get off my duff and get started.  Of course, I am waiting on the boxes for packing to arrive.

Tomorrow will be the last day for our dear relatives to be here visiting from other states.  They have come to spend time with Edna.  Their visit on Friday was as good as it gets now.  Edna was awake and talking.  Some sentences made sense, most were incomplete or incoherent.  BIL is back there this morning.  He has text that she was asleep and he could not wake her.  Husband text to get the staff to help.  With the oxygen back on her, which she will try repeatedly to remove, she is up but not responsive.  Sentences are not much more than sounds.  Not an easy thing for family, sons and granddaughter to see the slow descent of the family matriarch.  It seems almost cruel that she remains in the neather world between between life and death.

I wonder if Edna wished in her mind for a blank slate instead of the garbled visions and words of her 99 year old slate.  A slate that sees people she recognizes for a flash and then loses in the darkness of her mind.  It is as if she is seeing life with an intermittently flashing strobe light.  The confusion of total darkness punctuated by a bright flash of memory.  No wonder she stays confused.  No wonder she prefers to safety of almost comatose sleep.

T - 16 days till movers arrive to pack the delicate things.  T - 17 days till moving van loading.  T - 18 days till closing and a Blank Slate staring us in the face in the full light of day.  We are anxious for that day to arrive.

The Matriarch in August, 2010, still living in full light just 3 years ago.  

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