Last night another church here in East Texas was burned down. This makes the tenth church on the past month. On the way to get breakfast before I headed up to the Hospice center, I passed by one of the churches that was torched last week. It doesn’t make any sense. Right now, in this phase of my life, I’m mad at God. I’m mad at life. I’m mad at the horrible disease Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis and the fact that it takes its victims one piece at a time. I’m mad that Mazha will never see my little girl grow up and jealous that Simone had that opportunity. While I have this anger in me, I would never demolish the faith that others have. I wouldn’t take their feelings of peace and comfort away from them. Watching the news, I saw one of the local pastors recite 2 Corinthians. "We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” I envy him - for someone who has gone through such heartache to have so much optimism. For me… I am crushed. I am in despair. I feel abandoned and destroyed.
“Do you mean in here? Or do you mean in general?”
I stayed the night on the cot, again, you kept reassuring me that everything would be okay. The sweet smell that was vacating you, comforted me. Mazha tossed and turned all night. She was in so much pain. Even though the wonderful nurses would come in every two hours, it seemed like every other hour I was standing at the nurse’s station asking for something else. Help moving her. Help adding pillows under her. More muscle relaxers. More pain meds. I didn’t, and haven’t, cared how I’ve looked. Tonight was my UVA shorts, slogan t-shirt and socks. Hair in a hot mess. Unshaven for the past week. They’ve seen it all before, I’m sure. Every time I would come out, they’ve gone to get another nurse or nursing assistant to read my shirt: Fiscally Republican, Socially Democrat, Sexually Liberal. One of them gave me a high-five. Something I wasn’t expecting, or desired, at 3am. I would have changed it, but the only other thing I had was covered in cheese ravioli from a little chickpea who wanted to share her lunch with me.
The room has been set to freezing, by Mazha’s request. Around 5am, she said her legs were cold, but she still wanted the fan on and the temperature at stay set at the level it was at. So I shared you with her. I wrapped you around her legs hoping you would give her the same compassion as you’ve given me.
Lois, who were you? How did you pass? Why did you choose me? Us? I don’t know these answers, yet, but I can only say thank you.