I grew up in the 60's and 70's during the cultural revolution. I say that with a specific reason. My family was not a part of that revolution. My home was a four generation home. I lived with my great Grandmother, my maternal Grandparents, and of course there was my mother and I. My parents divorced when I was 4 and Mom brought me to Michigan.
When I first arrived at my new home in Michigan, I remember quite vividly not liking my great Grandmother. She was old and kind of strange looking - all wrinkly. Her voice wobbled and she walked with a cane. She tried to get me to come over to her and I stuck my tongue out at her. Then I kicked her shin! Now, my mother and grandparents all knew how to administer old fashioned spankings. Dr. Spock was not part of anyone in my family's repertoire of reading. So you can imagine that type of behavior was not tolerated. So at 4 years old I began my training in honor and respect for the elders in my family - which was everyone!
My great Grandmother had a forgiving heart, fortunately, and became my best friend. I spent hours with her listening to stories of her parents and her childhood. I learned lots of history! When she felt good, she would dance a little jig for me down the hall (she was part Irish) and she played games with me. I thought she was so cool because she could stick both her upper and lower dentures out of her mouth! I'd bring my friends in to see it.
My grandparents sacrificed a great deal to have her living with them. It often meant that they couldn't go places as freely because we couldn't leave great Grandma alone in her later years. I learned a lot about responsibility during that time. Once, she fell in the bath tub toward the end of her life of 93 years and she began to decline. Mom and I (I was about 13) would spell my grandmother so she could get out of the house. It would take two of us to lift her out of the bed onto a bed pan. Nursing homes were just not considered. Her comfort and her well being and feelings were more important than our inconvenience. In our home, she was protected and loved. However, when she had a stroke, we had no choice and she passed on to glory outside her familiar surroundings. Her dignity, however, was protected. She had not regained consciousness after her stroke.
All this took place before I knew the Lord, but the example was there. Before I came to Christ, I had begun to imbibe the way the world looks at authority. So when I got saved, I had to begin a new phase of that school of obedience and honoring my mother. We had long since moved out of my grandparent's home. My grandfather had died and my grandmother could no longer stay alone. After spending a year and a half in Mexico, I returned to the States and saw that my grandmother was failing in her memory - more so than normal. She was in the early stages of Alzheimer's. We didn't know that at the time - Alzheimer's was a pretty new diagnosis. We were beginning the "long goodbye" as Ronald Regan said. I was working and Mom was working and it was so hard to take care of her - but we were committed as she had been to take care of my great grandmother and my great grandmother had taken care of her mother. The obedience part had now become the honoring part - maintaining her dignity and protecting her when she could no longer do it herself. We tried not to have a condescending attitude toward her. She was Grandma. And though we finally had to give up and place her in a nursing home, we visited her daily. We had the privilege of being there when she went to be with the Lord.
But the schooling isn't finished. Here I am at 47, relearning my place. This time, though, I can't depend on my Mom. She is depending on me. I've been humbled many times at how I've forgotten to help my Mom keep her dignity - for instance by contradicting her when she doesn't remember things right or when she does and I don't! This time, though, the Lord is teaching me that I must depend on Him to fulfill that commandment. My love and patience are not enough. It is His love and His patience that I'm learning to depend on.
Some have wondered at the length of separation from my husband and my kids. But I see it as such an answer to prayer. I couldn't be doing it without God's grace, but I always prayed that God would allow me to requite my mother even though I was so far away. And I believe that He will not fail me in this point because it is His commandment. I have a wonderful husband whose family has the same commitment. I also believe that it is an important testimony to the Cambodian people to whom we minister.
My children are now in this school. Soon, it will be their turn. They are looking at my example. My prayer is that they will learn the blessing of honoring and requiting of parents and that they will do it in the fullness of the Spirit. I pray that their memories of spending time with their grandma will be as precious as the memories I have of mine.
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