Here is my poem:
Do not resuscitate or bring back to life? How do we make such a final decision and sign away a
precious life? But how is this life when we are now at the point of endless suffering and pain? How is this living? Surely this is not gain. I’ve worked in hospice for a decade. I’ve tried to prepare others for this day. But now I’ve talked my own mother into signing my daddy’s life away? Nothing makes me feel better. Nothing will ever be the same again. But Jesus, I’ll still trust You, even until the bitter end. I want to scream, God, where are you? Why is this the path that we must choose?
Yet I know He will never leave us or forsake us and He’ll walk through the valley with me and with you. Oh why is this so unbearable? Why is my soul so torn? When I know He’s ordered all our steps and even knew us in our mothers’ wombs before we were born. So now I lay my head on my daddy’s chest, knowing soon he will be at rest. I try to remember all the good times we’ve had and all the years we have truly been blessed. I weep throughout the long, dark night as I process my family’s great loss. But soon morning comes so I get up, wipe away my tears and pick up my cross. I fix my eyes on the glorious clouds, watching and waiting for You. Then I hear my Savior whisper “Don’t worry, my child, I’m right here with your daddy and soon I’ll be coming back for you.”
– By LaDonna (Belyeu) Rhodes