We went back yesterday, my sister and I. To the assisted living facility where my mom lived and died. Her room was still empty; we checked, not that it mattered.
What were we looking for?
Maybe meaning. Purpose. To encourage those who had encouraged us. To find the delight of familiar smiles on faces we had missed seeing.
Oh, and one other thing. We were looking for…Him.
Eyes wide open.
What did we find?
- Ms. O wandering the halls.
Looking for her room. Because she wanted to change jeans—hers were too faded, she said. But when we made it to her closet, she decided she’d change pants later and visit now.
- Ms. D wrapping her arms around us.
Saying, “I’m so sorry.” She remembered our story. We chatted about Auburn football and getting her hair done and in the end exchanged I-love-you’s several times over.
- Ms. S resting in bed.
“Being lazy,” she said. Waiting on somebody else after all these years to cook her meals. We laughed together about her bubbly granddaughter. She thanked us for visiting and invited us to come back.
- Ms. T sitting at the table.
We told her we’d come again to sing together. (We know her favorites: In the Garden and He Lives.) She said she’d love that. We know she means it. She asked, “When will you come back?” We promised, “Soon, soon.”
- Our mom (well, sort of) in the break room.
We brought brownies and pies for the staff. Looking for paper to write a note, I opened a drawer. I pulled out its only contents: a copy of my mom’s face on her funeral program. Put there by the ladies who had attended her funeral. And found there by her daughters to write a note of blessing.
So, yes, we saw God. Wandering the halls, wrapping arms around us, resting in bed, sitting at a table, and in the break room.
We saw Who we came to see.