Peace

"The peace that passes all understanding," its a phrase I've often heard and even said, but never really felt until today.

As some of you may know, my maternal grandmother fell two weeks ago and broke her femur. She had to have an operation the following day to place two plates and 13 screws in her leg. For an 84 year old woman with Alzheimer's, emphysema, and heart problems, the anesthesia and operation were just too much. She did not recover her swallowing and soon after became less and less responsive. Last Monday the doctors referred her to Hospice care and on Wednesday she made the trip from Allentown, PA to Baltimore, MD by ambulance.

Being advised of her condition and understanding that Hospice is end of life care, I decided to fly to Baltimore on Saturday. I couldn't fully comprehend the gravity of her condition until I saw her lying there in the hospital bed at Gilchrest Hospice. She had lost more weight, had a fever of 103 and no longer opened her eyes or spoke. The thing that struck me most was the conspicuous absence of IV fluids, which for some reason in my mind I imagined that she would have connected to her arm.

In that moment it struck me that my grandmother, known to me as Nanny, was going to die. She would not be getting better. Though this had been more or less explained to me, being far away I had held on to the hope that she could still recover, enter rehab for her leg and be more or less okay. Seeing her there, sleeping peacefully, it struck me that she would never again awake and be herself. This was a difficult realization.

That night the doctors told us that she would most likely pass within 24 hours. We remained at Hospice that night and awaited the inevitable. But in the morning my grandmother, who has always been a strong woman, had normal blood pressure, a strong pulse and her fever had lowered to 101. Sunday became Monday, which became Tuesday, then Wednesday and finally Thursday and still Nanny continued to rest peacefully sleeping. In this time, myself, my mother, my sister, my aunt, my uncle and their respective families were able to spend time with her, speak to her and for my part become at peace with her dying.

On Thursday night, as my plane was lifting off from Miami to fly to Santo Domingo, my grandmother passed away. I would find out more than 2 hours later on my way from the airport to my home. This morning (Friday), I was still unable to process that which occurred. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was very calm, and had an overwhelming peace. As I mused about this it donned on my that I was experiencing that peace that defies all explanation, that comes at times when we understandably might experience a feeling to the opposite, times like this.

I know that my grandmother is resting, that she is held in the arms of her Savior, and that she no longer feels any pain. Knowing this, I am able to rejoice for her and look at her dying not as a cause for overwhelming sorrow, but as an occasion to accept the overwhelming peace that the Lord offers to us. I am secure in the knowledge that though I do not understand all of His plans, He works for the good of those who love Him.

Nanny, thank you for being my grandmother. We love you very much!