One of things that's brought the biggest joy to my family lately is the migration of the hummingbirds. Living in southeast Texas, the annual trek southward to Mexico for these beautiful, delicate birds runs right through our yards, our porches & right past our windows. At gma's, two feeders have ensured we'd have plenty to watch as twenty or more of these juveniles would attempt to crowd around seven small plastic yellow flowers & take in as much syrupy goodness as they could before continuing onward. But after they are done, after they have had their fill, migration is the natural process that follows.
Today, I noticed there were no hummingbirds when I got there. Gma & momma told me that there have been a few today but for the most part, they are gone.
Today, I also noticed something else. That breathtaking smile that has met me there in that room is getting weaker. Today, it was much more forced than it has been. As I sat on her bed, she took my hand & told me how tired she was, how much pain she's in, how the nausea never completely went away today. Her purpose here is nearing an end. She's had a full, joy filled, life and this is the natural process.
Every night it grows harder & harder to leave her side. Tonight was exceptionally hard. Bedtime routine went by without a single hitch. She was stronger than she had been all day. There was very little pain & no dry heaves for the first time in weeks. The five of us (gma, momma, daddy, Buster, and I) sat laughing & having a good time when suddenly the nausea came back & the dry heaves revisited. They didn't last as long but the after effect did.
I have to admit I was suffering from a little bit of jealousy as momma & she sat there holding hands while I just sat on the floor beside the bed. But just as if God himself had whispered in her ear, she tapped the bed with her free hand & I took hold for dear life. I laid my head on the bed, staring at that beautiful old, wrinkled hand that was squeezing mine just as it had when I was a little girl. I watched her mouth the words to the radio - Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.
We sat there for what seemed like eternity, though I know it was only thirty minutes. A couple of times momma & I traded glances, both of us sure she was asleep but neither of us ready to let go. She was holding tightly to our hands as if she still needed us to be there with her. I found myself breathing the same pattern that she was & realized how quickly my lungs were gasping for air. Her mouth fell open like it always does when she's deep in sleep & her hands began to twitch. Still, neither of us was going to make the first move. She slowly opened her eyes & told us both to go, she would be ok & was ready to sleep now. Reluctantly we both conceded, kissed her on the cheek, hugged her one more time & told her we'd see her in the morning.
There's nothing about this process that's easy. Watching her suffer through nausea & pain on a daily basis is sometimes more than I can bare but everyday I am faced with the reality that this will too soon come to an end. Just like the hummingbirds that temporarily buzzed around her window until their purpose here was done, she too will make a migration of her own. She's just passing through. This is not her home & how selfish would I be to want her to stay one day longer than it took for her purpose to be fulfilled.
There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens.....a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.
I want to laugh. I want to dance. And I will - WHILE I'm weeping & mourning because I'll always remember the night the hummingbirds flew away.