I feel really bad. I am laying in bed, unable to move. I am drugged from the night before, my anxiety was overwhelming and could only be quelled by sleeping pills. Hans has been calling me for hours. First calling my name, then "honey", then my name. In a stupor I get up and try to help him. There is nothing I can do for him. I can't lift him, I can't move him, I can't make him comfortable. I move him to the left and cover him and rub his head and return to my bed. Immediately I fall asleep. Then I hear the cowbell go off again. I get up, rearrange his legs, tell him why we can't move him to his chair and cover him up. I return to my room and fall into another sleep induced coma. Later dimly I hear my name. We go through the same process again. This time he wants water, or a tissue, or the clipboard. It is five in the morning, I am drugged and he is restless. I don't know what to do. The caretaker has given up the ghost. I am a walking zombie. In the distance my cat, Raisin, is howling. She is hungry and we are out of cat food. I know that she will not stop until she is fed. How can I go to Walgreens now? Hearing a throng of birds outside, II open the window to her and say, "Go, kill and eat!" Later she returns completely happy and sleeps at the edge of my bed. Does she have a stash of meow mix outside? I wonder.
I return to my sleep soaked bed and once again collapse in a stupor, making a vow to never to do sleeping aids while Hans is alive. We are pitiful. I want to cry. Hans says, "Why does no one come? Where is everyone? Do you have no helpers?? I feel terrible but there is no one, everyone is sleeping deeply, tired from the caretakers journey. I only want to sleep. I am reminded of being a brand new mother to an infant that cried all through the night. Desperate for sleep, I tried everything to make the child stop. but she is not soothed by anything. I am wild with need. Today it is the same, I cannot make Hans stop calling my name, "Juuuudy" with his slightly Dutch accent.
Then in the distant background I hear guitar music, someone is worshipping the Lord. It sounds like an angel singing. I start to cry, I see God bending over his two pitiful servants. I hear His tender voice soothing us. "There, there." And just like that my sleep stupor dissolves and I am in my right mind again. Hans sleeps for the first time since 5, it is now 7. I think to myself, how does anyone make it in this world without God?!! When we can no longer manage or cope He comes. He comes without even a lot of prayer on our part, because there has been a lot of prayer by the saints, who have been to us like a whole squad of spiritual nurses. But He also comes to us quite naturally, because it has been His role in our lives for so many years. The path of His coming is a deep groove in our hearts, how could He not come? He is a hesed God—a God who is pure loving kindness. I do not choose to wrap myself up in self pity but in His loving embrace.
I cannot imagine doing this for a living. All this care and effort when the end shall be death instead of life. You are only bringing comfort in the storm, but you cannot end the storm. I am, by gifting, a person who helps people achieve victory, overcoming, and triumph in their lives, how can I cope when none of these things will be the end result. I see how much like God I am not. God helps us without any reward, without any result often. He does this because He is love.
A voice says to me gently, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Mercy is a God attribute. But one must be in their right minds to exhibit the attributes of God and not on some drug induced adventure. l resolve to get more sleep, be less organized (well a tiny bit) and laugh more. Be gentle with yourself, says the hospice booklet. Ok..I'll try. Forgive Hans and forgive yourself. Allow yourself to be weak so that He can be strong, Cry out so that He will hear your voice. Sing out so that He will know that you need Him.
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