Last December

I have a text file on my computer that I haven't opened in about a year. It was my running stream of consciousness during last December, when everything happened with Mom. I've thought about going back to look at it, but I haven't wanted to. I haven't wanted to relive that time.

But there's something about this season and the year anniversary coming up that compels me to go look. So I did.

I've debated posting this on the blog because it is special and private, and I don't want to take away from that. But then I remember the purpose for which I started this blog: preserving memories for the next generation, and I want Will to know this story one day because it is soaked in the faithfulness of God.

Not everything in the text below is a complete sentence. I haven't edited much from the day I wrote it.

Dear Will (and any siblings the Lord might bless us with),
Here's a recounting of the week your Nana went to Heaven. May you know how wonderful she was, and more importantly, may you know how faithful the Lord is.

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[Written in December 2012]

The downhill slide with mom really began on Saturday, December 8. Grandma, Grandpa, Bill, Carolyn, and Matthew had come down for the afternoon to meet Will. Mom was hard to rouse, and when we did, she was uncomfortable, writhing almost. When I tried to feed her, she would hardly eat. She chewed, but it was like she had forgotten how to swallow. I knew things were getting bad. I sat, trying to console my screaming baby in the dark living room, while I mourned yet again her obvious decline. Life was hard.

Then, the next day I called home in the evening, and dad put mom on the phone. The conversation was frantic. I hadn't heard mom talk that much, that loudly, that quickly, or that frantically... maybe ever, but especially not since she had more or less quit talking about a year ago. She was repeating herself:
"I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I didn't know it was going to be this way, but I've enjoyed it, I've enjoyed it, I've enjoyed it." I was spooked by all of this, so I asked an easy question just to change the topic and to see how lucid she was.
"Mom, have you had dinner yet?" Her response was appropriate and accurate:
"Yes, we ate late tonight." Then I asked her to put Dad back on the phone.
She said, "He's been so good, He's been so good, He's been so good. It's me. It's me."
And then before she handed the phone over she said this: "I don't know how much longer, and I need you to be okay." My heart went to my feet.
"I'm okay, mom. I am fine. You do what you need to do," I said, trying to hold back the tremor in my voice.
She came back relieved: "I know you're okay. I know you're okay." It was at this point that my heart really started to believe this was it.

Here's something I always want to remember: About a year prior to these events, when mom took a bad turn with Shingles, I feared she was about to die, like I have many times before. Although I had no reason to doubt it, I wanted to get confirmation of her salvation. Although she was somewhat sedated under medication, I remember talking to her, asking her about heaven. She immediately quoted John 14:2: "In my Father's house are many rooms; I am going there to prepare a place for you. I will come back and take you to be with me." I felt more than confirmed.

Well, the sweet, sovereign Lord used that confirmation again in my evening Daily Light devotions the night of December 9, after the "I-don't-know-how-much-longer" conversation. Here's some of what I read, on my knees, heartbroken that evening:

"The spirit will return to God who gave it." (Ecc 12:7)

"The spirit of the sons of men... goes upward." (Ecc 3:21)

"While we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord. We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord." (2 Cor 5:6)

"With Christ, which is far better." (Phil 1:23)

"I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus." (1 Ths. 4:13-14)

And then, the last verse in the series of verses that night was the one mom had quoted a year prior:

"I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also." (John 14:2-3)

Whenever the enemy tempts me to doubt and fear, I am going to go back to this December 9 evening devotion.

Monday, December 10, I made sure I got to the house in time for Lisa, the Hospice nurse, to visit. Mom was in bad shape. Writhing on the couch. Two meds, and then finally morphine. Drew, Aunt Susan, and I in the den with her. Writhing in pain. Restless, agitated. Morphine wears off, and we kiss goodbye. Awful, awful scene.

A two-day rally on Tuesday and Wednesday. I went by after Will went to bed on Tuesday evening. She was sleeping the whole time, but was peaceful. Things seemed at least okay for the moment.

Dad texts me Thursday morning, December 13 to say she had a very bad night. I go over, and the bedside vigil begins. We agree to a hospital bed in the house. She's on constant morphine. She'll open her eyes some, but they won't focus on anything. You can tell that she knows what's going on, hears you, etc. She continues in this state for a few days, and then maybe Sunday/Monday timeframe, her state changes. She seems asleep, and even getting in her face and talking to her, doesn't cause her to open her eyes. The "coma-like" state begins. Melissa, Susan, Drew, and I are at the house during the days. Dad sleeps b/c he is up all night doing the "night shift" with her. She needs meds around the clock. During the days and evenings when I am at the house, I start finding great comfort in Aunt Melissa and Aunt Susan. They are so much like mom. They are how mom would be if she hadn't gotten sick. They laugh at the same things she would laugh at, they look like her, they are the closest thing I have on this earth to her. Although the waiting period is awful... waiting for your mother to die... the time spent in the den with Drew, Melissa, and Susan day after day is priceless.

The morning of Friday, December 21, Diane came by my house and brought me a copy of mom's testimony when mom shared it at a women's retreat in 1997. I wasn't going to read it right away because I was afraid I would be too emotional. But, I'm sure it was the Holy Spirit's prompting -- I sat down and read it. I was so moved. This wonderful woman whom I had cared for the past 5 years was nothing short of amazing. Her testimony was so powerful. She was such a strong Christian lady. I got on my knees, thanked the Lord, and asked Him to finish my mom's testimony, to complete the good work He had begun. Not an hour later, my phone rang. It was Dad. When I saw the call from him, I knew what it meant. He told me they thought mom had passed. The Hospice nurse was on her way over to confirm. (It might sound weird that we needed "confirmation," but her breathing slowed so much at the end -- three or four breaths a minute -- that we did need a nurse's confirmation.)

I've thought about this several times since and the way God uses prayer. I'll always remember this event in my life when I think about prayer. I think God used my prayers (all of our prayers) to accomplish His ends. For about a month prior to mom's final weeks of decline, I had begun praying that the Lord would accomplish His purpose for her suffering -- whether it was in my life, her life, Dad's life, Drew's life, Melissa's, Susan's, or someone else's, or all of our lives -- that He would accomplish what He was doing and then take her home. "Lord, whatever it is, accomplish Your purpose with mom's suffering and then end the suffering." I just remember so fervently praying that close to the end of her life, and even a little before she took the bad turn in early December. I believe with all my heart that the Holy Spirit put that prayer on my heart. And He used those prayers to bring about the fulfillment of His will.  Just a little deeper understanding of how the sovereign God uses our prayers.

We had the burial on Sunday, December 23. Small, private group of us: Melissa and her family, Susan, Dad, Drew, Ashley, Ryan, and me. Marty Jacumin officiated. Chad Hood was there, too. Was a short, sweet service. Buried in the BayLeaf graveyard. Dad is so happy that he and mom will forever smell the cow pasture across the road when they're both finally laid to rest. They better never get rid of that cow pasture.

Then we had the memorial service on Saturday, December 29 at BayLeaf. TONS of people came. We ran out of programs and room in the guest book. Marty opened by saying that mom had planned her own memorial service. Everything we read and sang came from things she had written or marked in her Bible. Three hymns: How Great Thou Art, Great is Thy Faithfulness, and Because He Lives. Christie spoke and it was fabulous. I have a copy of what she said. And then Marty shared from John 14:1-6. Mom had written "You MUST believe" in her Bible by this passage. This was the same passage she quoted to me when I asked her if she was saved and the same passage from my Daily Light devotion that I wrote about earlier. Wow. What a passage I'll forever hold dearly. He shared some things from her testimony. And spoke of the peace that passes understanding that she had. He spoke of Jesus being the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Everyone later said how much Anne would have approved of that service. It really was beautiful. The Gospel was clear, and it was obvious that my mother was a woman of God, a funny, spitfire, strong woman of God.

The thing that has stuck out to me the most since she went to Heaven is how she never complained. She really had so much to complain about. We've spoken of this several times in the past week. Dad has said it, too. I've actually tried to rack my brain to remember a time when she complained about something: her less than fashionable hairdo, all the MRIs, tests, recurrences, medicine, doc appointments, lack of mobility, etc. She truly never complained. Wow. I want to carry on that legacy, starting now. I've not done a good job of that in my 30 years, but it's never too late to start.

Also, the other thing is how she never really worried about stuff. Her testimony speaks of this. And for all intents and purposes, she had plenty to worry about. Next time I start worrying about something, I'm going to ask myself: Is this as scary as facing brain surgery? That's what mom faced, and she didn't worry.

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The text file goes on for several weeks after she passed. I am so happy to have these thoughts recorded. On the one hand, sad memories. On the other hand, the faithfulness of God to carry me through.

June 1996.
3 months before the brain tumor diagnosis.
This was her obit pic.

Anne Pittman Hardison went to be with the Lord on Friday December 21, 2012, after a 16-year battle with cancer. Anne was the daughter of the late Kenneth Worth Pittman and Elizabeth Coleman Pittman of Rocky Mount, NC. She is survived by her husband of 38 years, Richard Everett Hardison of Raleigh; her son Andrew Worth Hardison and his wife Ashley of Apex; her daughter Susan Hardison Thomsen and her husband Ryan of Raleigh; her sister Susan Elizabeth Pittman of Raleigh; her sister Melissa Pittman Smyth and her husband Ted of Raleigh; and her two grandsons, Graham Worth Hardison and William Robert Thomsen. Anne was born June 9, 1951 in Rocky Mount, NC, and graduated from Meredith College. She was a loving wife and mother who raised two children and created a family that loved and adored her. She was active at Bay Leaf Baptist Church, a leader of many adult Bible study classes, and a president of the PTA at West Millbrook Middle School. Anne never met a stranger. She never complained during her battle with cancer. All those who knew her will remember her great sense of style and humor. She had a sweet spirit of being the person God chose her to be, a sweet word, a kind touch, a smile that only Anne could give, and a sparkle in her eye. She will be deeply missed by all.
The family will have a private graveside service. A memorial service to celebrate Anne's life is planned for Saturday, December 29, 2012, at 2:00 PM, at Bay Leaf Baptist Church, 12200 Bayleaf Church Rd, Raleigh, NC 27614. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made to Bay Leaf Baptist Church or to Hospice of Wake County, 250 Hospice Circle, Raleigh, NC 27607.