We went to bed on Monday night thinking all was well in our little corner of the world. We were awakened by a phone call about 11:30 with the news that my husband's Aunt Jean had fallen down the basement stairs in her home. This tumble didn't result in a broken hip or arm for the 80-year-old. Aunt Jean had suffered such a serve brain injury that death was imminent.
We hurriedly packed and drove through the night to be at her bedside. Other family also hastily made their way to Denver from across the country. By Wednesday morning all the extended family who was able to come had arrived. Aunt Jean's trauma doctor was consulted. With compassion, he confirmed that her situation was without hope. Prolonging her life would only result in slowing the inevitable--her death. We prayed fervently and made the decision you never hope to have to make for a loved one. We asked that life support be removed; Aunt Jean then died peacefully about two hours later.
Aunt Jean has been exceptionally close to each of us Beavers, and I hope to post again to share more about her remarkable life of Christ-like servant hood. (That will take more concentration than I have tonight at the end of very stretching week.) For now, suffice it to say that Mr. Beaver's father died in an airplane accident when he was seven, and Aunt Jean, who always remained single, helped his widowed mother raise my husband and his two brothers. As these three grew into manhood and began having their own children, the next generation has been bathed in Aunt Jean's unconditional, unwavering love. Then seven months ago our daughter, Anna, gave birth to Brielle, and Aunt Jean's love spread to a third generation.
We finish this week grateful to God for Aunt Jean. The photos in this post were taken just two weeks ago when Aunt Jean and Mr. Beaver's mom, Jane, visited over the New Year's holiday weekend.
|Brielle, Aunt Jean, and Mr. Beaver's mom, Jane|