Season of Blessing (39 page)
With each
day that passed Sylvia declined further, until finally those who loved her began to pray her home. No matter how much morphine they gave her, it wasn't enough. She flailed and jerked and trembled in bed. Days had passed since she'd been able to speak or look anyone in the eye.
In many ways, she was already gone.
Harry didn't want her to linger in this place between life and death for his sakeâ¦or the sake of the children. Instead, he wanted her to go where she could shed the pain like an old garment she wouldn't need anymore.
He prayed for the Lord to take her, night after night after nightâ¦
But when the time finally came that the doctor warned him she wouldn't make it through the night, he found that he wasn't ready. It was a funny thing. Sarah and Jeff had suddenly developed the strength they needed to make it through their mother's deathâ¦but heâ¦
He didn't know if he could really let her go. The thought of her still being here in some form was preferable to having her disappear from the earth, no longer a part of his world.
He didn't dare pray for God to give her more time. That would be selfish. Instead he prayed for strength. He would need God's arms around him, propping him up, moving his feet as he walked through these final hours. He could not do it on his own strength.
He knew that the neighbors needed to see Sylvia one last time, and in some way, he felt that she would know they were there. Sarah called, and found them at Brenda's house, praying on the front porch. David called them in to the kitchen and they sat around the telephone listening to her stopped-up voice.
“They don't expect Mama to make it through the night,” she said. “My dad said that it would be all right if you'd like to come over.”
“We'll be right there,” Brenda whispered.
They were at the door in moments, and Harry could see that they'd shed as many tears tonight as he and the kids had done. They came silently into the house, hugged everyone quietly, then followed Harry into the bedroom.
As they went in, Sylvia opened her eyes. Harry rushed to her bed. “Honey?”
Her eyes looked glazed, distant, but then she focused on him.
“Honey, the girls are here. Brenda, Tory, and Cathy came to say hello.”
Sylvia felt as if she swam through Jell-O, fighting her way to the top where she could get air. She heard Harry's voiceâ¦sniffingâ¦the whisk of tissues pulled from their boxâ¦
“â¦girls are hereâ¦came to say⦔
She had to talk to them, she thought. She had to see them one last time.
Please, Lord, pull me upâ¦one last timeâ¦
And there they were, standing around her bed, Cathy on one side next to Harry, Brenda and Tory on the other. Sarah and Jeff stood at the foot of her bed. They looked like they hadn't slept in days.
She locked into Cathy's eyes, then turned to Brenda and Tory. “Best times,” she whispered on a thin breath. “Tell meâ¦best times⦔
They had always done it. It was their ritual after an ordeal. When Joseph survived his heart transplant, when Tory had given birth to her Down's Syndrome baby, when Cathy got Mark safely home from jail. They had always run down the list of the very best momentsâ¦
There were so many.
In stark silence, the three women made herculean efforts to control their tears. She felt sorry for them, and wished she could touch them and impart some kind of peace.
Finally, Cathy spoke up in a raspy voice. “Watching when you came home with my Annie,” she whispered, “and I saw how changed she was. That was a best moment.”
Sylvia smiled. “Good one,” she managed to say.
Brenda patted her hand and tried to put on that cheerful face that came so naturally to her. But it didn't look natural when her face was covered with tears. “When we went trying on wigs,” she said.
Sylvia breathed a laugh. “So silly.”
“Yeah, we were silly,” Brenda said. “But it was definitely a best moment.”
Tory squeezed her hand. “When little Bo accepted Christ.”
She squeezed back. “Priceless.”
“Yeah,” Cathy agreed. “The look on your face as you watched the video of him giving his life to Christ.”
Sylvia closed her eyes and remembered.
“The best moments weren't just in the last year,” Cathy said. “They go back for several years. Remember when you realized you were supposed to go to the mission field, and surrendered to Harry's call?”
Sylvia opened her eyes, laughing weakly.
“And the moment I met Steve,” Cathy said.
That was a good one
, Sylvia thought.
“Barry,” she whispered.
Tory nodded. “I was just thinking of that. When Barry came back home after we'd been separated. That was one of the best moments.”
“And Joseph's heart.” Sylvia almost couldn't get the words out. She hoped they heard.
“Yes.” Brenda's voice wobbled. “When he woke up from surgery with all that color in his cheeks.”
“Good momentsâ¦, “ Sylvia whispered. “Best moments.”
She started to cough, and they all gathered closer, as if their closeness could somehow help her clear her lungs. But it was no use. Harry put the mask back over her face, and she sank back into her pillow as the pain tightened its vice around her body.
She sensed the grief overtaking them all, and she wished she was a better actor, that she could pretend to be relaxed, serene, and pain-free. She tried to lie still, tried not to jerk or moan, tried not to wince with the shooting pain.
Then she felt the drugs sweeping over her, dulling the pain, relaxing her body, taking her outâ¦
But she wasn't readyâ¦not yetâ¦she had to pray for themâ¦they weren't ready.â¦
Lord, pleaseâ¦just another minuteâ¦
Cathy thought she would collapse in grief, but somehow she managed to leave Sylvia's bedside. Sarah was there to hug her, and she felt the young woman's racking sobs as she held her. Brenda hugged Jeff, and Tory clung to Harry.
“Don't go.”
Cathy turned and saw that Sylvia was awake again, reaching for them. Sarah and Jeff rushed for her, taking her hands, and Harry grabbed that pump again.
“Want to pray for you,” she said on a shallow whisper. “Come⦔
One by one, they took each other's hands, until they stood in a circle around Sylvia's bed, tears flowing and noses running and hearts moaningâ¦
And then she spoke as clearly as if she'd never been sick. “Lord,” she said, “help them to see the joy in this⦔
Her words trailed off, and her eyes closed. Her raspy breathing settled and stilledâ¦
â¦and all grew quiet.
The monitor beeped out a warning, and Harry fell over her, shaking her and touching her face, trying to make her open her eyes.
But she was gone.
Sylvia had gone home to be with Jesus, with a prayer for her loved ones still on her lips.
Silence hung
over the Dodd house as they got dressed the morning of the funeral. Brenda moved by rote, ironing shirts and preparing breakfast. But her mind remained in that bedroom at the Bryans' house, all of them crowded around Sylvia's bed, receiving a prayer of blessing before she passed into eternity.
Sylvia had prayed that they would see the joy in this, but so far, Brenda only saw the tragedy of losing her mentor and closest friend.
What would she do without Sylvia? Who would teach her? Whose wisdom would she call on?
She took the boys' shirts to their room. Daniel stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair. He'd been crying, she could tell. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, but he would have denied it if she'd acknowledged it.
He took the shirt, stared down at it.
She stood in the doorway, and remembered when Joseph hung between life and death, how Sylvia had come to stay with Daniel and the girls. She'd told Brenda how Daniel had done the only thing he'd known to do. He'd come down in the middle of the night to wash his own sneakers, so he could take them to Joseph the next day. The child's feet had been too swollen for his own shoes, and Daniel imagined that his feet were cold.
She knew that he had bonded with Sylvia that night, and was running those moments through his mind. What had once been a sweet memory now burned with the bitterness of death.
She took the other shirt and headed to Joseph's room. Leah and Rachel were coming out of theirs, their eyes swollen and pink.
“Mama, tell Rachel she's supposed to wear black. It's rude to wear color to a funeral.”
Brenda looked at Rachel's choice of the yellow dress she'd worn on Easter. “Mama, do I have to?”
Brenda forced a smile. “I think it's fine for you to wear yellow, honey. Miss Sylvia wanted us to see the joy in this. Yellow is a joyful color, don't you think?”
Leah crossed her arms. “Well, should I change into a color?”
“You look beautiful.” She kissed Leah's forehead, then Rachel's. “Both of you do. I wouldn't change a thing.”
She took the shirt into Joseph's room, and saw him sitting cross-legged on his bed in his T-shirt and pants, the Bible open on his lap.
He looked up when she came in. “Mama, look. The gates of heaven are made of one gigantic pearl on each gate. And there's a sea of glass, and there's no need for light, because God is so bright.”
She put her fingertips over her mouth, and nodded.
“And the disciples are there, and the apostle Paul, and Moses and Abrahamâ¦Do you think Sylvia's had the chance to ask them questions yet?”
Brenda forced her voice to remain steady. “What questions?”
“Like what Paul's thorn in the flesh was, and what Jesus wrote in the sand, and what was going through Abraham's mind when he went to sacrifice Isaac.”
Brenda pictured Sylvia at the feet of the fathers of their faith, getting the story behind the story. The thought made her smile. “I think she probably has.”
Joseph nodded. “Because it says that right now we see through a mirror darkly, but someday we'll see face-to-face. Seems like everything should be clear to her by now, huh?”
Brenda wished her youngest son could have been the one to preach Sylvia's funeral. He seemed to have the most perfect perspective of all of them.
She gave him his shirt, then went to finish getting ready.
David was putting on his tie. His hands trembled as he did, and she caught his reflection in the mirror. The lines around his eyes were deep. He hadn't slept much the last two nights. Last night she'd heard him get up in the wee hours of morning, and he had never come back to bed.
He was taking Sylvia's death harder than she'd expected. She thought of that prayer that Sylvia had prayed some time ago, for David's salvation.
It had not been answered, and the pain of that rose up high in Brenda's chest, twisting her grief and bringing her close to despair.
But she had no choice but to trust that God had heard that prayer, and had every intention of answering itâ¦someday.
She wondered if Sylvia still prayed from heaven.
She went into the bathroom and sprayed her hair, put on earrings and her watch. Then she checked the time, and saw that they needed to go.
It was time to lay Sylvia's body to rest.