Honor

Norma Rushing

October 19, 1945 - October 3, 2014

I've been silent on my blog for a while. A few months ago I got word that my mom was sick and had decided to go home on hospice care after a long hospital stay. We all knew what that meant. We all knew that she'd struggled since before Jace got sick with her own health. What many did not know is the behind-the-scenes of my relationship with her. I tried to be very careful and respectful of her about our struggling relationship. 

Much of my life was spent trying to make that relationship exactly what we both wanted. It was difficult on both of us for a long, long time. Months before she got sick we had stopped talking. I know why she shut me out and I know that I was only coming from a loving, caring place. There were some toxic people talking to her telling her things that were untrue about my motives for visiting. I struggled weeks before she passed with deciding the right time to travel the 11 hours to see her; to say goodbye. I knew my visit would cause stress and didn't want my presence to create any tension. 

As God always does, I finally felt led to make that long journey. I knew it was time. 

Thursday, I drove with my cousin to visit. We were prepared for what we would experience. We'd both been bracing ourselves for the reality of the future. 

Thankfully, we both made it in time to tell her we loved her and to say goodbye. 

I will never forget that moment. I took her hand. I looked into her eyes and said "I love you." She nodded and raised her head closer to mine and said "I love you, too." I kissed her on the forehead and stroked her hair. 

We left Thursday night knowing that would be our last visit. We got the call the next morning that she was gone. 

I've been preparing myself for this for a long time.  I knew what this would mean for my family. My mom was the caretaker of both my brother and my dad. Without her, we knew they would both need things put in place for their care. 

Many of the things normal families discuss and put in place were not discussed at all. 

I've had a full range of emotions since the time I knew she only had months left. Anger, sadness, hope. . . 

The thing about both of us is that we both said exactly what was on our minds. We both lived different lives. We both approached pain and struggle differently. 

She tried so hard for many years to escape all the painful experiences she had, including my brother's death.

Here's what I read at her memorial earlier this week: 

Unfortunately, my dad is unable to be here today. He is struggling with Alzheimer's and is, currently, in the hospital in NM.

"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creating, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

Romans 8:38

The moment right before my brother died was the very moment I realized just how loved I was. It was the moment I knew God was in the middle of everything we experience. Nothing can separate us from the love He has for us.

Everyone sitting here today is a testament of just how loved my mom and our family was.

Each one of us have different memories of her and had different experiences with her.

What you may not know is just like in any family there is the highlight reel and then the behind the scenes. My relationship with my mom was a difficult one. Like some of you here, I continued to try to reach out, love her, pour into her and remind her just how cared for she was.

My brothers death was a pivotal point in our family. My mom struggled very much to come to terms with that day. And though we have been lucky enough to still have our sweet Jace, I do know how difficult that journey was for her.

Those experiences can cause us to isolate ourselves from everyone and everything. It can cause us to believe no one cares and is just going on about their lives. 

Since that day I have prayed so very hard she would realize that abundant love. I'm choosing to believe the minute she was gone from this earth, she not only realized it but opened her arms and ran to it.

Thank u to each of you for your presence here today and for loving on my mom one last time. 

There were so many people that loved my mom and reached out to her often. Some got through and some didn't. It didn't make them love her any less, including me. It's been heartwarming to read and hear stories of how she helped others, made people laugh, or just made them feel special.

In this season of my life, cancer with Jace, losing my mom, losing my dad also in a sense, and being so far from my brother, some look at me from afar and probably say "Man, I'm glad that's not me!" 

I say, "THANK YOU, GOD! In this season, I'm closer to You. I am closer to Your miracles. I'm closer to others. Thank YOU for showing up every single time I've needed you and for leading me to honor not only my mother, but the life I have and, ultimately, You. " 

One thing my mom did for me every year was try to join my 40 Days of Thankfulness Challenge. We would love for you to join us this year! 

October 8 - November 16

www.facebook.com/40daysofthankfulness

RIP Mom. You and John-John are together again finally. <3 

Knowing

I knew. 

There may be some reading this with doubts, but I knew Jace had #leukemia before the doctors and the blood test confirmed it. The weeks and months leading up to January 26, 2013 were a time for God to prepare my heart, mind, and faith. I had A LOT of "talks" with God and somehow I just knew cancer would change our lives. I did the bargain prayer. I did the questioning: We've been through this, and this, and this, but do we really have to do this now, too?

My conversations with God would read something like a Francine River's novel. 

I knew something in our lives would change. I just didn't know exactly what. 

10:20 pm the night of Jan 26th: I knew we had to get him to the dr immediately. I knew I would have to wake him from his sound sleep. In my core, I knew we didn't have a lot of time. As we drove the tollway to Children's Hospital in Plano, I reviewed the last few hours. 

"Jason, I know you will think I'm crazy, but I'm certain Jace has leukemia." 

"Take him to Children's immediately. Do not wait." Every medically qualified person we talked to or texted from 8 pm - 10 pm told us this after we explained his symptoms. 

As I texted 5 people, praying someone was awake to come stay with our girls (Thank you, Shelsea), I was also packing and instructing Jason to pack for all of us for at least a week. 

I wish now I'd been more sympathetic to his confused look when I told him that. There wasn't time, though, and even my head was spinning out of control at what our life would look like now. 

"He has these bruises here and the spots on his face and in his mouth that have worsened since we left our house."

It took about 1 second for us to get ushered back for the nurse to weigh Jace and check his temperature and than only about 1 more second to get us to a room and then maybe 2 seconds for the ER doctor to come. 

If you've ever visited the emergency room, you know that's not how things usually roll. 

As the doctor checked him and we held him down screaming and crying to take his blood, I knew. 

When the doctor came back in and said.......

Well,  you know what he said. Even the nurse was crying FOR us through her apology. I felt so bad for her. 

Jason dropped to his knees. 

[from Jason: "It was the scariest moment of my life. Through everything I've experienced nothing has even come close to what I felt that night. Your whole world comes crashing down. Everything you prayed for, you realize it could be taken away in an instant. Fear set in, but faith overcame. I'm so thankful for everyone who was there for us in the instant our lives changed."]

Through my tears, I nodded my head and said, "Now what?" 

The wee hours of the morning after that are not a blur. I can tell you pretty much every detail. 

I remember Jace crying as they strapped him down again, this time to the bed in order to be transported by the ambulance to Dallas Children's. 

I remember the faces of the ambulance drivers. I remember just as we loaded up, the oncology doctor ran to me and with tears and smiles said, "I'm 99% sure it's A.L.L."

Jason needed gas in the car, yet also needed desperately to follow the ambulance. I hated that we were all separated from each other. The first of many, many times. 

In the ambulance ride, from my phone I worked ravenously to set up his Caring Bridge. I knew when the sun came up, we would be overwhelmed with love, prayers and messages. 

I remember every person who dropped their Sunday plans to be by our side. I remember having to sit with the girls and tell them "Jace has leukemia." I remember planning every detail of that moment for them so they knew they were supported and loved and would be taken care of no matter what our days brought. 

In the ICU room we were assigned, we were overwhelmed by a zillion doctors asking us to repeat how we got there. 

It was also in that room after a group of men came early that morning that I saw with my own eyes the power of prayer. Hours after their visit, Jace's counts started leveling off so that he was able to leave the ICU AND the Dallas hospital and have his port surgery and treatment in Plano. This was the first of MANY answered prayers. 

We were in Dallas only 7 hours. They expected him to be there much longer. 

God is good. Every time in my life that felt like He wasn't, He proved to me that if I only trust in Him, all will be ok. ALL of that stuff I'd experienced before was only proof of why I should trust Him in all things. He never failed me, never left me. 

I knew this was no different. I knew that Jace was just as precious to Him as he was to me. 

The only control we have over anything in this life is over our attitude, our faith, and our love. 

Many days and many nights our only survival was our faith. 

Today, we know we will never be as we were before January 2013. We won't respond to people or situations the way we did before. We won't waste time worrying or fretting over what could happen. We won't take any day for granted. 

We will love abundantly. 

We are thankful in all things. 
We are thankful for 2013 and all it brought into our lives: good and bad. 

We will savor these precious moments in time with our family. 

We choose to focus on helping others who are where we've been.

We choose faith over fear. 

We know that is the only way to live. 

xoxo