This morning was all a Fall morning should be. A golden glow on the horizon as the sun opened its sleepy eyes greeted me as I drove over the country roads to Faye’s house. My mind wandered to all the beautiful sunrises I had seen in some of the places I have traveled. Sunrises along the Carolina's coastline; Breckenridge, Colorado; and especially over the Danube River in the Bavarian town of Neu-Ulm are among my favorites.
I don’t see sunrises quite so often now that I’m not working, but they’re something you never grow tired of. This morning’s was one of those extraordinary ones that make you want to get out of bed early to see it every day of your life. Then I thought about where I was headed this morning. Faye, my sister-in-law has terminal cancer and it’s necessary for someone to be with her at all times. My day is Tuesday…..today. As the sun rose over the trees, I wondered how many more sunrises she would see. I wondered how it must feel to her knowing that her sunrises are limited. I wondered…..I just wondered.
Faye has always been the type of person that every minute of the day is a sunrise for her. She loves life and has lived it to the fullest. She’s a kind, gentle and intensely giving person. I thought about what I would do in her situation. She’s limited in her ability to take care of herself fully now. She still walks, but with a walker. At the time, she is still able to take care of her personal needs and maintain her dignity. Even though she doesn't often get out of the house now, she still gets up at six a.m., bathes, and gets dressed in her beautiful wardrobe of clothes. She puts on make-up and lipstick and puts on one of her many beautiful hats to cover the little bit of new hair growth.
She still loves to be surrounded by beauty. She’ll ask us to help move around her flower arrangements and re-arrange the little decorative items on her mantle. A couple of weeks ago, I cleaned out her flower bed because she didn’t want the neighbors to see a neglected sight as they drove by her home. Her home is full of beautiful things and one room is set aside as a doll room for her doll collection. She often walks in it so that she can see, touch and feel the dolls that she has so carefully selected as her collection has grown over the years.
Today, the sight of the hospital bed in her bedroom was bothering her. She wanted to know if there was any way we could hide the stark metal and the wires underneath. I found a frilly bedspread in one of her closets that was just the right size, and “dressed” the bed with it, making sure that the exposed side was covered all the way to the floor. “That’s so much nicer”, she said, and was satisfied that it was as pretty as a hospital bed was going to get.
Would I handle my limited days that well? I can’t say that I would. I do know that none of us is guaranteed another sunrise. But I also know that Faye’s sunrises will not be over when she’s gone. They’ll only be just beginning. Her faith has kept her going and it will get her to her final destination someday – the place where sunrises begin - and with the One who makes them.
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| A sunrise from our 2007 vacation at Holden Beach, NC |
I don’t see sunrises quite so often now that I’m not working, but they’re something you never grow tired of. This morning’s was one of those extraordinary ones that make you want to get out of bed early to see it every day of your life. Then I thought about where I was headed this morning. Faye, my sister-in-law has terminal cancer and it’s necessary for someone to be with her at all times. My day is Tuesday…..today. As the sun rose over the trees, I wondered how many more sunrises she would see. I wondered how it must feel to her knowing that her sunrises are limited. I wondered…..I just wondered.
Faye has always been the type of person that every minute of the day is a sunrise for her. She loves life and has lived it to the fullest. She’s a kind, gentle and intensely giving person. I thought about what I would do in her situation. She’s limited in her ability to take care of herself fully now. She still walks, but with a walker. At the time, she is still able to take care of her personal needs and maintain her dignity. Even though she doesn't often get out of the house now, she still gets up at six a.m., bathes, and gets dressed in her beautiful wardrobe of clothes. She puts on make-up and lipstick and puts on one of her many beautiful hats to cover the little bit of new hair growth.
She still loves to be surrounded by beauty. She’ll ask us to help move around her flower arrangements and re-arrange the little decorative items on her mantle. A couple of weeks ago, I cleaned out her flower bed because she didn’t want the neighbors to see a neglected sight as they drove by her home. Her home is full of beautiful things and one room is set aside as a doll room for her doll collection. She often walks in it so that she can see, touch and feel the dolls that she has so carefully selected as her collection has grown over the years.
Today, the sight of the hospital bed in her bedroom was bothering her. She wanted to know if there was any way we could hide the stark metal and the wires underneath. I found a frilly bedspread in one of her closets that was just the right size, and “dressed” the bed with it, making sure that the exposed side was covered all the way to the floor. “That’s so much nicer”, she said, and was satisfied that it was as pretty as a hospital bed was going to get.
Would I handle my limited days that well? I can’t say that I would. I do know that none of us is guaranteed another sunrise. But I also know that Faye’s sunrises will not be over when she’s gone. They’ll only be just beginning. Her faith has kept her going and it will get her to her final destination someday – the place where sunrises begin - and with the One who makes them.
