Walking Wilma To Heaven
Wilma (right) with sister & brothers, circa 1932.
The past 5 months brought a mixture of emotional pain and inexpressible joy as our commitment to the sanctity of human life took on a new and even richer meaning. In September, Barb’s mother, Wilma Petersen, 94, fell at church. Despite a large bruise to her face, her doctor ordered no tests. However, two weeks later she had to be admitted to the hospital with dizziness and nausea. An MRI revealed that she had suffered a severe brain bleed. Her prognosis was terminal. After two weeks in a rehab center in Fort Wayne, Wilma moved in with us.
It all happened quickly – or far too slowly – depending on one’s perspective, but in just a matter of a few short months, Wilma went from making her own decisions, living in her own home and driving to being reduced by her condition to the mental and emotional status of a small child. Although remaining pleasant and grateful, Wilma became progressively more confused, often not knowing where she was and thinking Barbara was her sister. Her suffering was compounded by moments of lucidity and the agonizing realization that she was losing the battle for her mind. There are no words to express the pain of watching this dignified, independent woman wasting away.
While it had been our desire to move Wilma into our home to finish out her earthly life, we were unprepared for the challenges we would face. As Wilma’s confusion grew, keeping her from trying to escape her bed and falling became a constant worry. In addition, our nights were interrupted multiple times administering medications and helping Wilma to the bathroom. The first week was absolutely exhausting and we wondered how we would find the strength to provide her long-term care. But God was merciful to us, and to her, and provided just what we needed.
During the 4 months that Wilma lived with us, she frequently expressed regret that she had become a burden to us. Each time we’d reassure her that any burden we were bearing was eclipsed by the joy of having her with us. This was so true. We enjoyed many sweet moments with her and got to know her in a way we had not known her before. Our dinner table discussions often consisted of peppering her with questions about her childhood. Someone who has lived 94 years has interesting things to share. Among other intriguing details of Wilma’s childhood, we discovered that a doctor came to her home when she was 7 years old and performed a tonsillectomy on her as she laid on the kitchen table. (The next time I hear someone pine for the old days when life was simpler, I’ll just thank God for the marvels of anesthetics).
We had prayed that Wilma would not pass away alone in the middle of the night, but that we could be with her when she died. God graciously granted this request and on the morning of Tuesday, March 10, 2020, Wilma Mae Petersen drew her last earthly breath as Barb held her hand and we read Scripture to her. Although Wilma lived for almost a century, we were struck again by how quickly life passes.
Two hours later, funeral home directors came to our home to take Wilma’s body. I helped them as they gently and respectfully covered her tiny, lifeless body in a sheet and strapped her onto a gurney. The ugliness and finality of death were palpable as they wheeled her body out of our home and to the waiting hearse at the curb. We live on a corner lot on Main Street in a small town and I noticed passersby in cars slowing down to look. It was clear to all, someone had died. But what they could not have known is just how wonderfully she had lived. Wilma lived for Jesus Christ. Her entire life was defined by His love for her, and by her love for Him.
Loving others is often difficult and terribly inconvenient. But every human life, born and unborn, is worthy of the sacrifice of our own comfort. Whatever price we pay to serve others is paid back a hundredfold by the blessing that comes to us. As humans, we play a vital role in one another’s sanctification. More than once Wilma expressed feeling worthless in her final months. But in His mercy God was using her powerfully to grow and mature us. We still have a long way to go, but we are thankful for the lessons learned and the joy of loving one who had loved us so faithfully for so many years. About a month or so after Wilma moved in with us Barb said something that has stayed with me; “I feel like we are walking my mom to heaven.”
Walking this godly woman to heaven was truly one of the great privileges of our lives.