Life goes on...and on!

It's 1.15am.

I have come downstairs for a cup of warm milk.

The telly is flicked on and there is a programme on about Spitfire planes. An elderly lady recounts with joy how wonderful it was to be working on Spitfire planes in the war and how much she loved her job. She is a sweet little thing with a bit of chinny hair, a face-brightening smile and an unassuming way about her. You would pass her in the street without a second thought to the exciting life she knows herself to have led.

Other TV channels announce that the Sex Inspectors want to talk about bedroom blues; QVC sells us a showcase of beauty; Andrew Marr educates us about the History of the World and Road Wars continue on the streets of Britain.

Facebook has wedding and baby joys amidst a whole host of either inane or meaningful other postings. Life goes on. 

Mostly.

Meanwhile, a few minutes up the road, my feisty, 82 year old mum clings to life in a hospital bed, defying the odds - again! and is watched over by my dad - her husband of 57 years. With me today, he has wondered - again - whether this is the last call. Then she rallies - again - before slipping back into a deep sleep with the occasional twitch of a limb, just to let you know for sure that she is not done fighting. It may or may not end soon. There is no point guessing. Each evening's uncertainties, however, have given me reason during the night hours, to think over life together, smile about so much, with memories recalled and the strange joys to be found in them, despite tragedy or hardship.

This isn't meant to be a melancholy or self-pitying post but a simple recognition that everywhere in the world for many people, life goes on as it always does whilst others are in life situations of hardship, grief or turmoil that have the potential to flip a world upside down.

Mom 'n me up the Lickeys. Love you, Mom

The last 6 weeks or so have held the particular privilege of being able and near enough to give extra help in the care of my mum, aided when she can at some visits by my 'able, gutsy and get-things-moving' middle sis, though Dad has done the lion's share,  and borne the burden of our funny old bird creeping slowly deeper into the loss of memory and awareness, brought about by vascular dementia. My B&B-running younger sis has supported with phonecalls and dashed from her post when bookings allow. (I would NOT do that job)
Having nursed sufferers of dementia before, myself, it was always a beautiful duty to care for them. As nursing staff, we had hardly ever known our residents in their 'previous' life and took them as we found them but always acknowledging that often, it was great turmoil to the family, who had grown and known years and years of 'normality' with their vibrant, alert family members, only to see them now reduced to a comparatively empty shell with varying degrees still, of passion for life. Within these diminishing lives, they found their own way of doing life...from oblivious contentment to stick-waving threats and language that, out on the street, could get you arrested in the presence of a policeman! My kids laugh gleefully even now in recalling my encounter with a certain gent who took to calling me 'the blonde b*****d' and trying to whack me with his walking stick!

Dementia, cancer, any sort of sickness is an outrage. Sickness robs. Sickness threatens. Sickness cripples. Sickness is not how life was meant to be. 

This afternoon, as I sat watching the ebb and flow of life in the body of my mum, sad as it was in many ways, there was hope right there. I prayed for her out loud so she could hear me, as I have done often in past years. I know God loves her. I know she trusted Him and spoke to Him about us all every night. I know Jesus died for her to bring her eternal life after death, whenever that comes. He did the same for me; for every single person whose heart beats. 

Sickness is sad. Death is a bugger. Death can be devastating. BUT death has no dominion over us because Jesus died so that we can have the assurance of glorious eternal life. Our part in that is to give our lives to God and live them as Jesus showed us they could be lived. Abundance of life in this world. Hope for the future. Assurance of heaven - eternity with God, not the eternal fire.

On 5th December 1982, someone showed me the Bridge Illustration following a bible study I had reluctantly attended and asked me where I stood on the Bridge. I said I probably was on the left hand arm of the cross at that time and they challenged me with the question, 'What is stopping you praying the prayer and crossing right over?'

To be honest, I didn't have a good reason to say anything other than, 'Nothing.'

'So,' they said, 'Pray the prayer!'

So I did. I prayed that prayer because I was too chicken not to, though I was a bit miffed at feeling pushed into a corner.

On my way home that night, I railed a bit at God.

'Look!' I moaned, 'I don't want to do all that going to church, praying and reading the bible stuff so if this is going to mean anything, You will have to show me.'

Long story short, it was THE best and most life-changing decision of my life. Besides having the very presence and power of my Heavenly Father in my life and a beautiful new relationship with Him, I have the ultimate knowledge of life after death with Him. Beauty!

Try it yourself if you haven't already. Please. You have nothing to lose but everything to gain.

We have always joked that Mum will flippin' well outlive us all despite several dicings with death, and smoking for 70 years. Or maybe because God just isn't ready for the hassle of having her up there with Him! But for me, any sadness at finally losing her when Father calls her from this earth, will be lightened by the knowledge that I WILL see her again. And she will be well. Forever.

As a bonus, do watch this - 

https://www.facebook.com/humanthemovie/videos/468301476675049/?pnref=story