Two days ago my mom died of cancer. Four months ago we didn't even know that she was sick. This feels like I am living in a bad dream, but it is real. Jon and I have spent the last month in Albuquerque helping to care for my mom. It has definitely been the hardest month of my life, and I celebrate that my mom is free from this disease and free from this earth. There are no tears or pain in heaven. But, of course there is plenty of pain and tears around here right now. Two nights ago, my family went out to eat at a restaurant that we often went to with mom. I was okay until I went into the bathroom and saw the sink where I remember mom washing Caleb's hands a little over a month ago. Then I lost it. I guess that the grief will come on suddenly and unexpectantly like that.
On the day before mom died, we had some time with her when she was somewhat awake. She asked Katie and me to sing Amazing Grace and to pray. We sang a not so great version of it, and we prayed for her. She reached out to hold my sister's baby Kennedy, and Katie sort of set Kendi on Mom's lap. A little while later, Katie had put Kennedy into a crib in the other room. As my mom's medicine started to kick in again and make her sleepy, she said twice that she heard a baby crying. This was the last thing that I can recall my mom saying to us, and I find it so fitting. She was a wonderful grandma. She served us by helping out with our kids: washing their hands before meals, getting up with them early in the morning, and showing such love for them as she played with them on the floor. I will miss her for these reasons and so many more. Mom had two miscarriages before I was born, and Katie had one several years ago. I can imagine the joy she felt as she entered heaven and was greeted by these children. I know that the greatest prize for her was greeting Jesus, but I love picturing her up there with these three babies just doing what she loved best: being Mom and Grandma.



































