A few months ago, I wrote about my mother entering a nursing home and how painful and difficult that was for both of us. She was in a lot of pain and grieving the loss of her independent life. Many times I would come into her room and see her sitting in her wheelchair and staring at the wall. She slept a lot and lost interest in life. My heart was heavy when I would leave her there alone each day, but as I wrote earlier, I tried to see God in her situation and believe that He was working in her life.
As I write this now about four months later, things look much different. A medication was found that helped with the lingering pain of shingles, and, even though my mother had to give up her apartment, she has made new friends and gotten involved in the many activities the nursing home has to offer. The staff all seem to enjoy her quick wit, and she is a good listener when the staff or another resident need to talk.
She still doesn’t like the food (and probably never will). She will usually speak up when something doesn’t meet her approval, and I am glad she does. Even though she has had to let go of most of her earthly possessions, I see a peace in her countenance and a contentment that I would not have believed possible a few short months ago, and for that I am grateful. Pain does not have to be the final word.