This love story is nearing its end

I'm sitting in my parents' hospice room, trying to gather my thoughts around everything that happened yesterday, and the immediate days preceding it. As always, I try to place all pieces of my life into compartments in my brain that make some sort of sense to me. I "need" to have reasons for everything.

Many of you already know and have so graciously reached out to us since my mother suffered another massive stroke late yesterday afternoon. This one bled on the entire left side of her brain, which means her whole brain has been damaged by the strokes. She has not and will not regain consciousness. The doctors tell us she could pass within hours or days as her body shuts down.

We will be spending our time at BSA Hospice for the duration. They've set us up in a double room — one side for Mom, one side for Dad. (Please, please call if you're planning to visit my dad, because this is most likely where he will be. Visitors are still great; we've just relocated.)

Even though it's not wise to spend much time trying to figure out what God is doing ... I can't help myself. But as I try to figure things out, I now am in complete trust of how this story is going to end. I've already told God, "Thy will be done" so many times in the last seven months, and now I'm sort of like an outsider watching with interest.

When my mom had her stroke in October, you know if you've been keeping up with my blog that I struggled with how things would end for my parents after being together for 55 years. I couldn't imagine or accept that they would finish their lives apart and that my mom would be left to suffer without my dad — in a state of not completely understanding why he was gone.

In this blog, I posed one question after another.

I have experienced every answer to every concern I had be answered; the answers have come as each member of this family reached a level of understanding and acceptance necessary to continue on this journey.

With both parents finally in my home, my lingering worry has been about my mother — we've all worried, including my dad. All we've wanted is for her to be OK once he's gone. I know that sounds pathetic, because people experience losing spouses every day, and in no way do I want to minimize anyone else's heartbreak.

My extraordinary concerns for my mother, however, have been for two specific reasons: the level of her understanding due to the brain injury, and the fact that she has been with him the majority of her life, taking care of him. Dad has been her life. It's as if she was born to be his wife and to take care of him (and us). She is a caregiver through and through. She stuck by my dad through thick and thin, great times and bad times. Total devotion like I've never seen.

For obvious reasons, I am no longer worried about my mother's wellbeing. While I am devastated to be losing her now, I am relieved that she and my dad will be together in a relatively short period of time, and she will not have to suffer without him.

She is going first (most likely) to that most wonderful place God has prepared for us ... In fact, we've joked that she has to go to make sure Dad doesn't get lost — he's that bad with directions. (You know what I'm saying, Jo Ann Weese and Babs Lombard.)

My mother has willed herself, and God has directed and allowed her to be safe, comfortable and at peace — finally — with all that has happened so quickly and tragically to them. I don't want to lose her, and I don't want to lose my dad — and Kim and I will be lost and empty without either parent. We never imagined this — ever. This has been the most difficult, horrible time — and blessed. Last night was nothing less than gut wrenching for all of us.

But for my parents, this is merciful, and I am so grateful to God for that gift.