Starry Night

Grief has a way of training and transforming a person.

In my 1.5 years of being a full-time caregiver for Mom while on home hospice, it was a gradual coming to terms with grief.  Grief that she didn't want to be treated for her thymoma cancer, grief that she didn't want to fight to live to see the grandkids grow up, grief that she had maybe given up on living, anger that the living didn't have enough influence to overcome dying, grief that she was slowly dying and would eventually leave us, grief that I was responsible for making sure she was comfortable and could live the rest of her life with minimal pain, grief in not knowing how long this dying process was going to take, grief in having hope one day and then having a bad day the next with sounds of the oxygen compressor and needing more medication for pain. 

But then the stars come out and there is still hope because of God.  The stars give a glimmer of hope and purpose in grief and pain.  

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 says "Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

{Art} Starry Night cross stitch bookmark - Starry Night bookmark embroidery kit

In the last 8 months of Mom's life journey, she kept her hands busy with doing embroidery kits, crocheting, and sewing.  I did not have the skill to take on embroidery alongside her - it really was a skill with patient concentration and good eyesight, but cross stitch was a little easier for me.  I worked on this after she went to sleep at night for a little down time.