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We walked into the exercise room at the Mountainview Rehabilitation Center
where my mother-in-law is recuperating from surgery. (They unclogged
arteries in her stomach). The south side of the room was windows from
ceiling to baseboard. The desert of the Southwest lay as winter's barren in
a picture frame of scrubby growth.
I searched for her. My mind still could not accept or understand why she
had to have physical therapy. My husband of forty-one years walked across
the room to a little ole lady dressed in a pink sweat suit lying on a
table. There was an attractive, young woman stretching her feet and legs.
I could not believe this one-time bully and control freak lay like a heap of
limp rags. She looked like a kitten curled up.
My husband turned and motioned for me to come over
where they were. I was so stunned at her appearance; I felt like the floor
was moving and before I got to his side it would open and swallow me up. In
a flash, I remembered her sharp tongue and all the things she had done and
said to me over the years. By the time I reached his side, I felt like the
heap of limp rags.
"Carol, how are you?" She asked.
"Fine." I knew I had to ease my tension so I added,
"Are you ready to run the fifty-yard dash?" The therapist smiled.
"I can't even walk. I can't do anything. This is a
horrible way to live." She looked up at me as she spoke, and I remembered
the clich?, SHE IS NOTHING BUT SKIN AND BONES, but I had never seen anyone
quite like this.
"That's why we are working with you, Mrs. Archibique.
We want you to be able to take care of yourself when you leave here," the
therapist said as she continued to stretch her legs.
Immediately, her doctor was by our sides. I could tell
she didn't like him. "Her deterioration process came about by
malnutrition. She is wasting away and needs lots of family encouragement."
I moved so Pat could hear what he said.
"Are you her son?"
"Yes." Pat nodded his head and brushed his hair with his hand the way he
does when things get hectic.
The doctor took us into a small cubicle. "I sense you
have not seen your mom in a while."
"That's right, since August," Pat said as he brushed
his burr haircut again with his hand.
"The lack of food has affected her limbs. She has no
circulation in them, nor any feeling. This will be long-term rehabilitation
for her, and she is not being cooperative. The surgery she had was
dramatic, but she came through it in fine shape."
I watched Pat as the doctor talked. Tears filled the
eyes of this man who once lived his life as she had. He was a principal of
a school for thirty-plus years, and to put it bluntly, IT WAS HIS WAY, OR IT
WAS THE HIGHWAY. His mother was the only person he had no control over, but
his stroke and kidney problems have brought him to his knees. During these
hard times he accepted Jesus into his heart, and it has made him
become a new creature.
In II Corinthians 5:17, it says, THEREFORE IF ANYONE IS
IN CHRIST,
HE IS A NEW CREATURE; THE OLD THINGS PASSED AWAY, BEHOLD, NEW THINGS HAVE
COME. When Pat accepted God into his heart, he changed as his daily
relationship with His Lord increased. His mother never understood his
change.
We all had dinner in the large dining room. I fed her
chicken-noodle soup, potato salad, and peaches. I watched as she ate like a
baby bird; just opening her mouth when I got the spoon to it. My years of
dislike for her drained from me, as I realized we had wasted lots of years.
She was frustrated because Pat and I had minds of our own, and he stood up
to her as much as he could. I was exasperated with all her advice and her
trying to run our life. Pat tried to stop it, and I knew he tried. It was
tough saying NO to her.
No matter what she had to do, she would have her way.
That is how all this got started. She wanted her three boys to move back to
their hometown. They had jobs and a new life and ignored her pleas. This
was a new experience for her. She got sick. She lost more than 100 pounds
in two years. Finally, losing weight controlled her.
The ones she controlled since birth are making her
decisions now. In my hatred for her, I suddenly realized, yes, she had
controlled me also. I'm going to share Jesus with her now. Perhaps she'll
allow Him and the Holy Spirit to control her last days.
© 2006 Carol Dee Meeks |
