Scrambling for my phone in the dark to check the latest news or post has unfortunately become a habit in the early hours of my mornings. 

This morning squinting, without my glasses I try to make out the notification. Melissa* called about 10:00 pm, no voicemail. Melissa is, I'm gonna say a young sister, though she's just younger than me. She was the cute lil flower girl in my wedding. My pretend daughter that would sit on my lap during the meetings. Now, she's in her 40's,  baptized and out of 5 children, the only one serving Jehovah. She calls me often, but mostly in the mornings to say "have a good day" or to talk,  when she is dealing with a trial. She never calls late. 

I see a text notification from someone else... "Hey sis, just letting you know that Diane* died". 

Diane,  Melissa's mom. That's why the call. I take a breath. We knew this was coming.  Melissa told me that Diane had decide to stop dialysis. Melissa didn't like her mom's decision but it was not hers to make.

Melissa was a very good daughter to Diane.  The lived together, served Jehovah together. But Melissa was also the care taker in the relationship. It's funny how that happens in some cases. The daughter takes on the mother role.  But, if Diane slacked in her meeting attendance,  Melissa was her reminder. Melissa helped Diane financially and when Diane got sick Melissa was her support and transport back and forth to dialysis.  

Now, the weight of it all,  the stress of it all, is gone.

What do we call it?

Freedom?

That sounds so calloused. Though she has been freed from the constant occupation of caring and worrying. 

Freed from the time spent serving and cleaning morning and night.

I think of my mom who cares for my dad after his stroke. I think of another friend who cares for her mom and another family member.  

Rest? Yes, they may sleep. But the mind still worries. They are up in the night checking in on their loved ones. 

They love them. It's not a burden. 

My mom promised my dad that she would always take care of him as long as she could.  That is what she wanted to do. At 83 she's still doing it. Her strength, like us all,  comes from the God of all comfort. 

Melissa's calling.... it's 5 am. In tears she tells me about the day before. The brothers and sisters that came to visit Diane and how Diane went to take a nap after everyone left. How Diane who was snoring loudly suddenly went quiet. And how Melissa goes in to check and sees in her mom's face the look that tells her that her Diane has died.  I feel tears fall on my cheeks.

Melissa then relates how her siblings like vultures come and take and leave and now, how she has to make funeral arrangements. 

But,  I know the congregation will step in and help her. I will step in. She needs to grieve to receive comfort. That's our job.  The things we all endure in this system. The events we call normal, but yet is so unnatural. I told Melissa it was a blessing that Diane went so quickly.  But blessing doesn't feel like the right word. It's like up is down and down is up. Was that the right thing to say? Because it didn't sound right. 

I know we are all feeling the heaviness of this system.  But I also know our father Jehovah is faithful and loyal.  And

one day soon we will have different words to express. When we will be able to see our friends and family again.  Where there will be no more caretakers of the sick and feeble. No worries or tears of sorrow. We will then live the real life and experience

True Freedom. 

*names have been changed.