Sorry that I have been missing from my post for a few days. On July 4th, just as the fireworks were bursting forth across the country, my mother-in-law, went home to be with her husband and son in heaven. As one gentleman said, "She was born on Abe Lincoln's birthday and went out, with a bang, on our nation's birthday". Born of Swiss immigrant parents, she lived nearly her entire life, in Lincoln Co., Ky. , just a few miles from where she was born.

She was a great mother and mother-in-law. I can honestly say I can't remember her ever saying a catty or mean thing about someone. She tried hard to never be unkind or rude. She was the perfect mother-in-law who never favored one daughter-in-law over another. (With three sons, this was a huge gift to us.) I once gave her a yellow skirt and blouse for her birthday. Every time we were home, she would wear that yellow outfit and tell me how much she liked it. It was years later I learned that she hated yellow.

She was 97 years old. Wow! She lived for 19 years as a widow. The last 10 years she lived in ever deepening dementia. We were blessed that it wasn't the wilder manifestations of Alzheimer's but more a regression into the past. It was a sad and tragic time for her sons. As she moved back into her past she was more and more frequently a young woman or even a child in her mind. When these middle-aged men would present themselves and call her "Mom" she would often just be confused. However, we often saw that what the mind can't recognize the heart can. We noticed that when my husband would sit and hold her hand for a while, she would often rise above her dementia and know him again, even if only briefly. On her last night, we were monitoring her blood pressure and noticed that her highest readings were when her sons were there with her. The heart knows.

She quietly quit breathing about 8:30 in her own bed with people that loved her with her.

I was the person primarily responsible for her during the last seven years of her life. People have asked me how I managed the stress of being "on call" 24-7. There were times when it was a strain on my family. I could never commit to doing long-term baby-sitting for the grandchildren, because I might have to go to Grandma's on a moment's notice. Every trip became a challenge to get somewhere and not be called home. Every dinner or party was planned with a back-up plan, in case I had to leave suddenly. I live an hour from her home and would often find myself making two or more trips a week to run errands, go to doctor's appointments, interview sitters, fill in for sitters who were ill or quit, take care of her property, and on and on. Yes, it was stressful--but it wasn't Mother that was stressful, but the situation.

The biggest stress was finding sitters who could cheerfully and lovingly deal with a little lady who might wake up as a fractious 8 year old. Over the years we have had good ones and bad ones. For the last three years, when her dementia has deepened, we have been blessed to have a woman who has cared for Mother with the love you usually reserve for your own loved ones. She called her "Granny" because as she said, "she is now MY Granny, too". When it became too difficult to find quality sitters, we reached the decision to move her from her home to a nursing home. Debi came to us with a request to take her into her own home and care for her 24 hours a day. We agreed to do it on a trial basis. It lasted 8 months, until her death. I don't know how she did it but it was the best thing we could have done for Mother. Thanks to Debi she was able to live in a loving family atmosphere and die in her bed surrounded by love. Debi opened her home to us so that we could spend as much time as we wanted with her and made us feel welcome to do so. As she often put it "This is her home now, so come whenever you want." And we did.

We have been blessed. Someone asked once if I didn't wonder why God had let her linger on in this twilight world? She was as devoted to her God and church as any human could be. A lifetime church attendee, her faith was deep and complete. So, why was God leaving her and not taking her home? It took me years to realize that she had been left, not as punishment for her but as a gift for us. Through her, I have learned patience and peace. Many days I would arrive frazzled and stressed. I would spend an hour or so sitting with her, sometimes just holding her hand, sometimes talking about things long in her past, sometimes just playing "finger games". Always, I would leave feeling peaceful and blessed by my association with this little lady. She has made me realize that love is not just the easy kind when you love the ones that are good to you. Real love is when you know you might not get anything in return--sometimes not even the acknowledgement of your presence. It's when you just .....love, like God loves us.