In the Garden

Visiting Mom in NY while up for a wedding, I found myself thrust into an emergency; my Mom was losing blood by the liter, and no one knew where it was going. My family in NY was busy with wedding planning, parties, and an intercontinental vacation,s and let her continue to bleed or not make enough blood, she was anemic in Red blood and Iron, not to mention in all her vitamins and minerals! Her body was shutting down, and when I arrived, she had lost another 2 liters of blood! I took her right to the hospital, and she went from 7.0 hemoglobin to 10.0. She has now had 3 Iron infusions and is looking alive, and her mind is coming back. For a 94-year-old, she has proven to be strong in body, mind, and spirit; God is with her, praise the Lord Jesus for her healing and continued recovery!

I can’t say it louder; watch over your parents and the elderly around you; make sure they’re not being neglected. This picture of Mom is where she is today. She says to the camera as I took the picture: “I’m not dead yet!” Let’s not bury them before their time in a forgotten place of fear and neglect. They’re counting on us!

On our last evening together, we laughed and sang her favorite song, "In the Garden" - Listen to the song now, sung by Ann Murray.
I was by her side, along with my brother Richard, when my Mom, Lillian Tripoli, passed away in 2021; she was 96 years old. We miss her dearly and look forward to our reunion in eternity. 

In the Garden - Song by Anne Murray

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses

And He walks with me, And He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known

He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet tthat he birds hush their singing
And the melody that He gave to me, within my heart, is ringing

And He walks with me, and He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known

I stayed in the garden with Him, though the night all around me is falling
But He bids me go, through the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known

None other has ever known