It was around this time last year (December 2014) when mom casually said,

2015 is going to bring about a major shift, Giselle.

At the time she made this seemingly odd, yet prophetic statement, it was in the context of a conversation the two of us had about several things.  For one, significant events would occur in 2015 in all of our families (Rick’s, mine, and hers and daddy’s) that would require careful planning and proper allocation of money, time, and energy.  She was working on her 2015 calendar then as we were talking, but in retrospect, I remember her also throwing in comments about possible/impending issues with her health, and she needed Rick and me to know what was going on so that we’d be prepared.  It wasn’t a doom and gloom conversation concerning that though; it was more matter of fact . . . an FYI, if you will, so that we wouldn’t be caught off guard.

In my and my extended family, this was our short list of celebrations:

• Ashley’s (mom & dad’s oldest grandchild) 18th birthday in March;
• My father-in-law’s (Fred T. Jones Sr.) 90th birthday in April;
• Ashley’s graduation from the Early/Middle College at Bennett College in May;
• Morgan’s Sweet 16th birthday in July;
• My in-law’s 70th wedding anniversary celebration in August;
• Ashley going off to college in August;
• My Emmaus walk in September;
• Ron’s 50th birthday in September; and
• My and Ron’s 20th wedding anniversary in October.

Then add to that —

• The birth of mom and dad’s youngest grandchild to Rick and Lynette, Jairus Arthur Jones, in March;
• Mom’s 50th Class Reunion at Bennett College (and reuniting with her college roommate Dianne) in May;
• Mom going back to her high school (the historic Allen High School in Asheville) to deliver a keynote address in June; and
• Mom and daddy’s 50th wedding anniversary (a week after ours) on October 23rd.

Celebrating events was always important to mom.  No matter how busy she or we all may have been, it was important for us to slow down, to etch that particular event on the Master’s timeline, and to celebrate.  My husband would often chuckle and remark that our family would just “create occasions” to throw a shindig, but as trivial, maybe, as Ashley losing her first tooth or little Ron scoring his first basket in rec ball, and then us going to have dinner to celebrate may have been, I was happy to be a part and I would give my pinky toe now to have those times back.  Sending cards for all occasions was also a hallmark of my parents, and it was actually that activity that consumed her on the night of October 25th that led to her demise.  She was writing out her message to go on “Thank You” cards for those who had attended the 50th wedding anniversary and who had given gifts . . . making personal phone calls and such.

On the night of the 23rd, this is the immortal message she texted me:

These words meant the world to me then and even more now, especially knowing that just three days later she would make her final transition to her heavenly abode.  Again as I think on our conversation a year ago,  I not only remember sending mom that email she requested from me on December 30th detailing all the dates of the events that were forthcoming for 2015, I also remember that during this year our worlds would be shaken when mom got ill . . . and I mean severely ill.

Things flowed smoothly throughout the first half of the year; however, I noticed mom’s pace slowing a little and observed some swelling, but she kept moving about with purpose, still doing and still moving.  On Wednesday, June 24th, I recall receiving an email from her to all of us in the family giving an “update” on her health at that point, which she noted was declining, but that all would be well.  She and her doctors were on top of the issue causing the collection of fluid around her lungs, and she was informing us of her scheduled Pericardial window surgery that was to occur on June 26th.  And of course, in Lillie style, she gave us a thorough definition of the procedure (as she had done her research) to reassure  us that everything was under control.

That surgery was successful and she started recuperating nicely, but I made it a point to stay near her and to help daddy more because I hadn’t seen my mom like that before. . . never that frail.  She was getting weaker physically, but her spirit was strengthening like I’d never seen before.  Still our earth didn’t really begin rumbling until two weeks later when mom was rushed back to ER needing to have the same surgery, and this occurred right near the end of my immediate family’s vacation in Orlando.  We rushed back on that Saturday and drove straight to Moses Cone.  Mom’s attending nurse tried to keep me from going in the room to see her; I insisted and was shaken by what I saw.  This time the earth did quake.

Her recovery would be slower this time; the added weight to this scenario would be dialysis treatments three times a week.  To mom, she thought that dialysis was the major shift that she and we would have to face and adjust to.  Initially it was an adjustment, but with time, mom would begin to treat those appointments like a “job” – it was merely something she needed to do to sustain her life.  While at the hospital the last time though, I remember her telling me that the Lord had to be preserving her and allowing her to live because her work wasn’t finished.  There were so many lost souls out there in the world, she said, that needed to be saved.  It would be her focus for her remaining days to spread the Gospel of Jesus.

And she did just that not wasting any time.

I watched her steps very carefully from that point and was there, even closer this time by her and daddy’s side, to help how I could.  To be honest, I was often amazed at how much she was still accomplishing . . . how passionate she was about her relationships . . . how intentional she was about reaching that last milestone with her husband and having all of her loved ones and family around her.  The 50th wedding anniversary was the last major event for 2015, and God allowed her to reach it.

And she was simply radiant. 

So now, as I sit here reflecting upon 2015, I recognize that as earthshattering as losing mom was on October 27, 2015, I’m not broken . . . we’re not broken.  We were wounded, but time is healing us.  The major shift is still occurring as we are all making adjustments in our lives without the physical presence of Lillie.  God promised to be with us as we make our way.

In love and charity,

Giselle