(ROCKWALL/HEATH, TX – May 8, 2015) I sat up late one evening thinking about my 90-year-old grandmother; she had just been placed on life-support. Hundreds of miles away from her, all I could do was pray.
I’ve lived away from extended family for all my married life. I relied on church friends and neighbors to fill in for family, especially while my husband and I raised our three children.
One friend introduced us to his grandmother, Faye, who lived near our home. Faye was happy to serve as our kids’ babysitter. On her baking days, she made extra zucchini muffins or cinnamon rolls to share with us. She frequently surprised us with crocheted items too—pot-holders, purses, and colorful Afghan blankets.
Faye lost her husband during those years, so she appreciated our attention in return. I took her to the grocery store or bank when needed. Often, while driving to her house, I thought of my own widowed grandmothers; I asked the Lord to watch over them and supply their needs.
Faye eventually moved across town to be closer to her family, and we later moved to another state. She wrote to us regularly, even after a broken hip kept her in a rehab facility. When her letters quit coming, I called her grandson, who said that she slept much of each day now, but still perked up and showed a good appetite at times.
Days later, my mother called with the news that kept me up late. My grandmother, hospitalized after falling on a rain-slicked parking lot, fell again after getting out of bed without assistance. Now unconscious, she needed a ventilator to breathe. Of further concern, my father faced giving his consent to Grandmother’s pre-written directive to remove any life-support.
Instead of going to bed, I sat on a den sofa, asking the Lord to take Grandmother if the time was right, or else revive her before Dad needed to act. But I did not expect God to show His plans to me.
After praying, a scene played before my eyes—like a wide-awake dream. Someone came walking from the left, as on a dark stage: my grandmother. Then, from the right, someone else approached. It was Faye! The two of them, strangers to each other, met in the center of my sight and then turned from me. They walked away together, out of view. The brief vision amazed me and I went to bed with peace.
The next morning I left home early to take my son to school; then I helped coordinate a morning event at our church. Afterward, I checked for phone messages. Mother had called to say that Grandmother was gone. But my parents were relieved that she first began breathing on her own without the ventilator. She died peacefully several hours later.
Standing with the phone in my hand to absorb the news, I noticed a second message. Then I listened as Faye’s grandson let us know that our dear friend had just passed away.
By Blue Ribbon News guest columnist Patti Richter of Heath. Read her Good Faith columns at BlueRibbonNews.com.
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