As a single working mom, Fran has struggled, like many of us do, to live out her faith on her job, and be a good mom as well as a good daughter. She has lots of hats to wear, and it certainly hasn’t been easy. But she has learned a lot, grown in her faith, and has a deep sense that God is guiding her steps and protecting her and her children. Thankfully she has wonderful parents who live nearby who have been with her through everything, and she often phones her mom for comfort and her dad for advice.
It’s Thursday afternoon and, as Fran is busily finishing up an important presentation for tomorrow’s meeting with a new client, her cell phone rings and she notes that it’s her mom. Well, she thinks, I can just call her back on the way home. But something prompts her to answer the call. Her mom rarely calls her at work, so she figures it must be important.
“Hi, Mom,” she says cheerily, “how’s it going?”
“Fran,” her mom’s voice is shaky, “they just called me from your dad’s office and he fainted or something and they’re taking him to the hospital. I was just wondering…”
“Fainted at work? Well, that doesn’t sound good, but I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m on my way, Mom. I’ll come by and pick you up. I should be there in fifteen minutes.” She doesn’t want to alarm her mother, but she is concerned. It’s so unlike her dad—he’s always the strong, healthy one. So with her own heart skipping a few beats, she picks up her purse, leaves everything else scattered on her desk, and heads to her car.
It’s the longest fifteen-minute drive of her life as she begins to process this information. Her dad—her strong, capable, godly dad whom she relies on so often—something has happened to him. She tries to pray as she drives, but it’s more like a cry. Lord, please, please. . . . She doesn’t even know what words to use, so she simply repeats the name of Jesus over and over, knowing that the Holy Spirit is interceding for her.
If you’ve ever had a phone call that changes your life, you know how Fran feels. There are times when words just don’t work; your heart and mind are so traumatized that you can’t really pray. Romans 8:26 says, “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
As she arrives at her mom’s house, she does her best to bring her own emotions under control so she can be strong for her mom. “Thanks, Fran, for driving me. I’m not sure it would be safe for me to drive right now,” her mom says, trying to be lighthearted but obviously distressed.
As they are on the way, Fran says, “Did they give you any further information, Mom? I mean, did he just faint? Was that all they told you?”
“That’s all they said to me, Fran, and they encouraged me to go to the hospital for further information,” she says, with the tears now coming down her face. “He told me this morning that he was a little dizzy, and he stumbled and almost fell coming down the stairs. He insisted it was nothing. We didn’t think anything about it. What do you think it is, Fran?”
Fran’s mind is racing. What could it be? A stroke? A heart-attack? Maybe just something he ate. “Mom, let’s not let our imaginations run wild until we see him. Let me pray.” As they drive to the hospital, Fran prays for peace for the two of them and for wisdom for those caring for her dad. Of course, she also prays it will be nothing serious.
Walking into the emergency room, they expect to see her dad right away, but they are told that he is with a medical team and someone will give them an update shortly. Shortly means five minutes, right? muses Fran. Unfortunately, this “shortly” lasted over an hour, and Fran and her mom have to sit in a room with lots of other people while not knowing exactly where her dad is or what’s happening to him. Several times Fran asks the person at the desk for information. Each time they give her the same answer: someone will be with you soon to give you an update.
She and her mom agree that the delay is not a good sign, but they try not to think or talk about the possible bad report. Instead, they silently pray for good news. While waiting, Fran makes a few calls to her aunt and other family members, and leaves a message for the pastor at her mom and dad’s church. She tries not to raise an alarm but merely to ask them to pray. But as the minutes slowly pass, their apprehension and fears increase, and it becomes very difficult to remain positive.
Finally they call her mom’s name and are directed to a private room where they meet with two doctors who have attended her dad. “Mrs. Taylor,” they address her mom, “it appears your husband has experienced a stroke and we are running several tests to get a better idea of the severity, the location, and what the best treatment should be. We just can’t give you much more information until we get some test results. We’re doing everything we can.”
They bombard the doctors with many questions, but they seem reluctant to say anything more until they have more information: it could be hours; they might be able to see him soon; not sure when the tests will be done. . . . They can get no answers to their questions, and are once again left to wait.
Fran’s aunt volunteers to pick her kids up from school and keep them until she’s home. She is very concerned about how to tell her children. Their grandpa is “the man” in their lives, since they were both very young when their dad was killed. They adore him! It will be difficult for them to understand and she doesn’t want them to be unnecessarily alarmed. The concerns seem to pile up one on top of another and her mind is unsettled.
Soon her mom’s pastor comes to sit with them, as do some other close friends and family. It’s beginning to feel very serious, very ominous, and Fran is trying to help her mom cope with this while keeping herself from falling apart.
Suddenly there seems to be a flurry of activity with doctors and nurses going in and out, and lots of dire-sounding messages on the intercom. A nurse comes to her mom and says, “Mrs. Taylor, we think you should see your husband now. Come with me.” She agrees that Fran can accompany her and they walk into a room where her dad lies with all kinds of monitors and tubes on his body. Fran notices that they are beginning to remove the tubes and turn off the monitors.
“Mrs. Taylor,” a doctor says to her, “your husband had a massive stroke which eventually led to heart failure. We have done everything we knew to do, but I’m so sorry to have to tell you that we were not able to save him. His heart just gave out, and that, very suddenly. Our efforts to revive him simply didn’t work. I am so sorry to tell you this.”
“Do you mean to tell me. . . .” her mother tries to speak, “do you mean to tell me that he’s gone—and I didn’t even get to talk to him. . . .” Her knees begin to buckle, and Fran and a nurse catch her just before she collapses; they help her to a chair. “Ma’am,” one doctor says, “we were hopeful that he would regain consciousness but it was very sudden. I am so sorry. . . .” His voice trails off as there are just no words that help.
Fran’s mind goes into denial: No, this simply is not true. They’ve made a mistake! She looks at her dad, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he is no longer there. Her dad—her strong and loving hero, the man who made it easy for her to believe in and love her Heavenly Father—lying there lifeless. She would never speak to him again, never hear his voice. How can this be?
Then she realizes that she can’t think about herself right now; she has to be there for her mom. They want her to remain seated and they offer her some water. The nurse asks if she’d like something to calm her nerves, but she insists on being near her husband, holding his hand, and talking to him. It’s a private moment, and those in the room take a step back as she says her goodbyes to her husband of 47 years.
Their pastor and friends gather round and, with many tears and sobs, prayers are offered. Someone starts to sing a hymn. Fran stands beside her mom, holding her close. Arms are all around them, offering comfort, but Fran has no idea what they’re saying. Her mind is simply not functioning. The shock is more than she can bear. All she can think is that she has to be there for her mom.
Fran and her mom are blessed to have friends and family who stay strong for them, who help them navigate these unknown waters, who assist in making the necessary decisions. Eventually they are ready to leave the hospital. Her mother resists leaving, wanting more time with her husband, feeling like she’s abandoning him and she should take him home. But reality sets in and gently Fran and others convince her it’s time to go. Her mother’s sister will stay with her, so now Fran must go home to face her children with this terrible news.
When life throws you this kind of horrific curve ball and, in a matter of a few hours, life takes a turn into a new world—a world you never wanted or imagined—how do you survive? Many of us have walked this path in one way or another. It may be words from a doctor telling you the bad news of some tests you’ve undergone. It may be a mate saying those dreaded words that they are leaving you. It could be a call from the police station that your son or daughter has just been arrested for drunk driving. There are so many sudden happenings that can come out of the blue and bring devastating consequences and sad news that change your life forever.
How do you survive? This is when your faith is sorely tested, and you need others to have faith for you—to step in and, as it were, “loan you” some of their faith. You don’t need pat answers; you don’t need to hear trite words that, though intended to comfort, instead cause you to be angry. When life comes to a full stop and your mind and heart are unable to cope, you need fellow believers who share your burden and come alongside to hold your arms up—as Moses of old did when his strength was gone. Fran is blessed to have friends and family who are there for her and her mom.
Now she must continue to live and face her responsibilities as a mother and a daughter.