I have a friend who is really good at making things. He is a more than a builder. He is an artist with materials. He is always thinking outside the box and not only makes some really cool stuff, he adds an inventor's heart to the final product. I am continually amazed at what he creates.
We were talking the other day and he said that he has finally figured out his ideal to reality exchange rate. If he thinks a project will ideally take 2 hours, he times it by 2.5 and that is how long the project will really take. He says its been really helpful because then he can offer more realistic expectations to his wife and himself.
I think everyone should figure out their exchange rate in multiple areas of their lives. This would really help us give ourselves grace but also foster communication and unity.
I wonder what my exchange rate is on home projects? I would guess it is pretty low. Maybe 1.5. I have a pretty realistic understanding of what a project will take, but no one can anticipate all the little things, like needing a part or not having the right tool, or your kids using the thing you need as a prop in their latest video production. But I really enjoy projects and tend to be able to approach them with realistic expectations.
But what if I have to work with someone else? Recently I had my kids empty out a bookshelf that my husband and I built together shortly after getting married. It is now empty but we are torn on what to do with it because it is a reminder of two things: First that my husband and I are very different and should not try to build things together, but also that if we do step out together and attempt a project, we might create something that we still own 21 years later. So what do we do? I want to burn it. My husband, however, wants to put in the garage and think about it. More on that another time.
But I also wonder what my exchange rate is for:
growing in intimacy with my God?
caring for my kid's hearts?
letting my husband love me?
letting go of my past?
grieving?
Recently, I have begun to feel the weight of grieving lift from my shoulders. I don't really know why it is lifting, it just seems to be lifting. I recently applied for a job; part-time but still much more than I've done for many years. I am also hoping to pursue grad school at Moody in 2013. But it also feels like I have been carrying a mantle of deep sadness for a year and half. It's bigger than just my mom, but perhaps this is another difficult part of Alzheimers. You grieve before they die. I guess I am assuming you grieve after they die too, but I bet it will be really different from what I've been doing this last year and half.
I see my Dad turning a corner too. He recently bought a brand new car. I don't think we have ever had a brand new car. He got a red one, because mom always wanted a new red car. The added bonus is that he gets to surprise her with it everyday. It's the gift that just keeps giving! She is sleeping a lot more now and speaking less. She forgets all of us now at times and is in and out. I can feel my Dad's loneliness when we talk. I admire his faith but I know he needs companionship too. I have asked God to bring people into his life that will just talk to him and enjoy him.
But we know the end is near though we don't really even now what the end is in this case. Even still, my father and brother and I have become so close and God has ushered in so much healing for all of us. We were such an angry house growing up. I know God gets an amazing amount of Glory given all He has done to help us overcome all the pain we have inflicted on each other over the years. But here we stand; loving each other and feeling loved amidst the wreckage of my mother's life. We are eager for her to just be with Jesus now and enter into her peace. No more sorrow. No more pain.
So my exchange rate for grieving has been about a year and half. Never saw that coming. Really thought I could do it over a weekend.. It has taken me 15 years to forgive my mother. You have got to be kidding! Gave myself a couple years for that one. I am not even going to answer the other 3. I suppose the bottom line is the exchange rate is however long it takes. Period. God just simply is in no rush. We are in a rush. I am in a rush. God, however, is not. He will take as long as it takes. I believe that is called faithfulness.
"He who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it." Phil 1:6
I have tried to think more about eternity in recent days. We are eternal beings. We will live for eternity. So who cares about 15 years in light of eternity? Our God is outside of time. That is a complete mind bomb if you sit there for a minute.
So I will ease up on the "get it done yesterday" mentality. (It will probably really help my tennis game as well.) And I will simply take my God's hand and follow. When I stand really close to Him, everything else doesn't seem quite so scary and then we can just enjoy the journey no matter how long it takes.
Yes, I will do that.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
God's Thanksgiving train wreck
When I was in college, I was always excited to go home and see my family. That seemed odd to me considering all I wanted to do in high school was get the hell out of there. Even well into my marriage, I could still feel an excitement swell up in me when I was getting ready to go home to see my folks. What is more amazing to me is that I was always disappointed after spending time at home. Always. It was like I went home every time thinking, "It will all work this time. I know I always leave hurt, angry or disappointed, but not this time. This time will be different." My counselor calls that "Magical Thinking". All children engage in magical thinking. This is why we take them to Disney World to meet the people they see in their movies. And we love it as adults! It nourishes our own souls to watch childhood dreams come true, even though its not really real and it costs us a butt load of money. And yet every parent does it, just to bring joy to their child and to be there when it happens.
I had a picture in my head this Thanksgiving. I believe it honored God but I also see it now, in retrospect, as the waining cries of a child's heart. For me, this weekend was a total train wreck. I left for Thanksgiving after a crazy busy week holding several broken promises from my husband before he boarded a plane to Italy. We had a big fight and a line was drawn in the sand before we could be reunited. Thankfully we traveled Thanksgiving day and cleaned the house before we left. Traffic wasn't bad and I let my daughter who is learning to drive take some of the load. However, any time it alleviated behind the wheel for me ended up as stress in my neck. By the time we got to my folks, I was having trouble using my right arm from the knot in my shoulder. (My daughter does not get all the credit for the stress:)
Shortly after arriving, my son began to vomit. Awesome! He was running a pretty high fever and literally sat in a chair for 24 hours before starting to feel better. Soon I started to get sick, then my other daughter. All the while, my arm was just throbbing from the pain. It got so bad, I found a massage therapist in town and got an hour of deep tissue massage. It helped somewhat, but I was pretty badly bruised afterwards and my mom kept grabbing my arm. Then the voices came. Angry voices of self-pity and doubt engulfed me. It felt like being in a hole with no way to get out. So after a day and night of pain and wrestling I decided to serve my way out of it. I gave my mother a bath and washed her hair. She can't seem to remember to wash her hair anymore when she showers. All the personal hygiene stuff is gone. I don't know where my mother goes when I wash her hair, but it is a happy place and she is at perfect rest. Other than playing music for her, it is probably the only way I know to always bless her now.
Our trip ended with my mom begging us not to go and crying a lot as usual, and then a 6 hour trip home becoming 9 hours due to traffic. I also enjoyed driving the majority of that time with a fever myself. Miserable.
However, for my Dad, he had a great weekend. He loved having the house full of family and not having to cook and just being with all of us. For my brother, he loved having my kids at his house and cooking with my son and playing video games with the kids. For my extended family, they came and spent time with my mom and it was impressive how much she was able to take part in the conversation. For my kids, even with all the sickness, they had a blast with their Uncle and going to see a movie as a big family. For my Mom, it was happy and sad and overwhelming and normal. And as usual, my dog was in heaven.
But for me, it felt like a train wreck. Physically, spiritually and emotionally, I was beat up all weekend. Just before we left I went to breakfast with my mom and dad. My Dad and I have learned to talk about her in her presence without upsetting her, which should qualify us for college level credit! But I asked him if he ever wondered why God gave him this life. He said no. He just thanks God for the chance to serve another day and provisions to do so. His life has purpose and he is thankful for that. I was stunned. I still am. I will be thinking about that for awhile and get back to you.
Of course he is right. God's kindness has allowed money to come back into my Dad's life through the VA and their financial burden has been greatly eased. They were within months of having no money at all. It seems like a tremendous gift to my brother as well considering he is going to jail soon and will not be able to continue to pay back his debt to my folks. (In fact, my father has received enough that he has forgiven my brother's debt entirely and perhaps now they can just be father and son.) Clearly God is providing for my family. Even my brother's new girlfriend is eager to help us during my brother's incarceration.
My husband came through for me as well. Before he returned from Italy he made good on his promises and we have been reunited.
So was it truly a train wreck or do I just not understand God's ways? I couldn't help but be reminded of this verse today "12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
The section just before this talks about "serving with the strength God provides". I don't think I can explain this weekend better than that. I cried out to Jesus so many times to help me as I was sinking. This God stuff can be really hard.
So today I sleep, write and reflect (and go to the chiropractor!). Maybe tomorrow I will feel better and enjoy the blessings of this weekend rather than lament my battle scars. Come Jesus Come.
I had a picture in my head this Thanksgiving. I believe it honored God but I also see it now, in retrospect, as the waining cries of a child's heart. For me, this weekend was a total train wreck. I left for Thanksgiving after a crazy busy week holding several broken promises from my husband before he boarded a plane to Italy. We had a big fight and a line was drawn in the sand before we could be reunited. Thankfully we traveled Thanksgiving day and cleaned the house before we left. Traffic wasn't bad and I let my daughter who is learning to drive take some of the load. However, any time it alleviated behind the wheel for me ended up as stress in my neck. By the time we got to my folks, I was having trouble using my right arm from the knot in my shoulder. (My daughter does not get all the credit for the stress:)
Shortly after arriving, my son began to vomit. Awesome! He was running a pretty high fever and literally sat in a chair for 24 hours before starting to feel better. Soon I started to get sick, then my other daughter. All the while, my arm was just throbbing from the pain. It got so bad, I found a massage therapist in town and got an hour of deep tissue massage. It helped somewhat, but I was pretty badly bruised afterwards and my mom kept grabbing my arm. Then the voices came. Angry voices of self-pity and doubt engulfed me. It felt like being in a hole with no way to get out. So after a day and night of pain and wrestling I decided to serve my way out of it. I gave my mother a bath and washed her hair. She can't seem to remember to wash her hair anymore when she showers. All the personal hygiene stuff is gone. I don't know where my mother goes when I wash her hair, but it is a happy place and she is at perfect rest. Other than playing music for her, it is probably the only way I know to always bless her now.
Our trip ended with my mom begging us not to go and crying a lot as usual, and then a 6 hour trip home becoming 9 hours due to traffic. I also enjoyed driving the majority of that time with a fever myself. Miserable.
However, for my Dad, he had a great weekend. He loved having the house full of family and not having to cook and just being with all of us. For my brother, he loved having my kids at his house and cooking with my son and playing video games with the kids. For my extended family, they came and spent time with my mom and it was impressive how much she was able to take part in the conversation. For my kids, even with all the sickness, they had a blast with their Uncle and going to see a movie as a big family. For my Mom, it was happy and sad and overwhelming and normal. And as usual, my dog was in heaven.
But for me, it felt like a train wreck. Physically, spiritually and emotionally, I was beat up all weekend. Just before we left I went to breakfast with my mom and dad. My Dad and I have learned to talk about her in her presence without upsetting her, which should qualify us for college level credit! But I asked him if he ever wondered why God gave him this life. He said no. He just thanks God for the chance to serve another day and provisions to do so. His life has purpose and he is thankful for that. I was stunned. I still am. I will be thinking about that for awhile and get back to you.
Of course he is right. God's kindness has allowed money to come back into my Dad's life through the VA and their financial burden has been greatly eased. They were within months of having no money at all. It seems like a tremendous gift to my brother as well considering he is going to jail soon and will not be able to continue to pay back his debt to my folks. (In fact, my father has received enough that he has forgiven my brother's debt entirely and perhaps now they can just be father and son.) Clearly God is providing for my family. Even my brother's new girlfriend is eager to help us during my brother's incarceration.
My husband came through for me as well. Before he returned from Italy he made good on his promises and we have been reunited.
So was it truly a train wreck or do I just not understand God's ways? I couldn't help but be reminded of this verse today "12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
The section just before this talks about "serving with the strength God provides". I don't think I can explain this weekend better than that. I cried out to Jesus so many times to help me as I was sinking. This God stuff can be really hard.
So today I sleep, write and reflect (and go to the chiropractor!). Maybe tomorrow I will feel better and enjoy the blessings of this weekend rather than lament my battle scars. Come Jesus Come.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Starting the goodbye process
We will be going home for Thanksgiving this year. Sadly my brother will be heading off to jail in December for 3 months so this will be our Christmas together as well. But it will be much more than that for all of us. We are inviting family and friends to stop by and say their goodbyes to my mother.
During my visit in October I watched her completely loose my Dad for a time. They were just sitting at the table and she started to cry and shrivel. He spoke quiet and tender words to her as if speaking to a frightened child and slowly coaxed her back. It was very beautiful and tragic to watch, but we had been waiting for this day.
The truth is that my mother's health is really not bad. She may have several years of life left in her for all we know. But soon she will not know us anymore, so it's time to say our goodbyes. That is the hard part. It's really about us and not her. We need closure and it is tricky because some days are better than others, but if we waited til she was physically dead to say goodbye, our hearts would be left in limbo.
It is complicated though too. You don't want to upset her with too much sadness so we are having an open house the day after Thanksgiving and just enjoying an evening together. My hope is that people will cry it out as they drive home. Personally, I want a time for my kids to enjoy their grandmother but I also understand as a family this is not the end. It really feels like a beginning in many ways.
Me, my brother and my son are cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I expect it to be very fun and for there to be a fair amount of dancing and singing. Goodbyes are sad, but they can still be good memories.
Lately, I can see my father turning a corner as well as he has started to release his stuff. That's a big move for that generation. He grew up pretty poor, so stuff creates a sense of security. But sadly over time, it also creates a lot of work when it's time to undergo a change of life. But I am very proud of the hard choices he makes everyday to run their home, care for my mother, oversee the finances and tend to his own health. Somehow he even has time to ask me how I am doing.
I am also very proud of my brother. Going to jail doesn't sound good, but he is doing his time for some bad choices he made awhile ago. After he gets out, he can put his life back together as well. My brother and dad are good men who have spent too much of their lives rescuing others and hating themselves for it. But we have all grown through this process in our love for each other and in our understanding of our broken family systems. I am sure it never crossed my mind that God could bring healing to our family through my mother's disease. His ways are not my own. Today I am thankful for that.
Over the summer, our family went to breakfast together and it was a wonderful morning. Lots of laughter and good food. Outside the restaurant we had someone take a picture of the 4 of us. We all have big smiles and our hair is even combed. My brother has Redemption written across his shirt. It's a good picture of a good day.
When I looked for a frame at the store, I was with my son. I looked at several but the one we both agreed on had the words "Fairy Tales do come true!" written on the bottom. I am sure it is supposed to be a wedding frame, but who cares. If I was honest, all I really wanted as a kid was a safe and loving home. That seems accurate considering it is all I want for my own kids now. But safety is one of those words you have to wrestle with because it probably looks really different in your head than it does to the Lord. But He is the author and perfecter of our faith, so I think I will go with his picture and not my own from here out.
Thanksgiving will be a hard day. I will pull away and cry more than a couple times, but it will be a good day and we will encourage each other all the more as we see the day approaching. Jesus will be with us and we will see His glory.
During my visit in October I watched her completely loose my Dad for a time. They were just sitting at the table and she started to cry and shrivel. He spoke quiet and tender words to her as if speaking to a frightened child and slowly coaxed her back. It was very beautiful and tragic to watch, but we had been waiting for this day.
The truth is that my mother's health is really not bad. She may have several years of life left in her for all we know. But soon she will not know us anymore, so it's time to say our goodbyes. That is the hard part. It's really about us and not her. We need closure and it is tricky because some days are better than others, but if we waited til she was physically dead to say goodbye, our hearts would be left in limbo.
It is complicated though too. You don't want to upset her with too much sadness so we are having an open house the day after Thanksgiving and just enjoying an evening together. My hope is that people will cry it out as they drive home. Personally, I want a time for my kids to enjoy their grandmother but I also understand as a family this is not the end. It really feels like a beginning in many ways.
Me, my brother and my son are cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I expect it to be very fun and for there to be a fair amount of dancing and singing. Goodbyes are sad, but they can still be good memories.
Lately, I can see my father turning a corner as well as he has started to release his stuff. That's a big move for that generation. He grew up pretty poor, so stuff creates a sense of security. But sadly over time, it also creates a lot of work when it's time to undergo a change of life. But I am very proud of the hard choices he makes everyday to run their home, care for my mother, oversee the finances and tend to his own health. Somehow he even has time to ask me how I am doing.
I am also very proud of my brother. Going to jail doesn't sound good, but he is doing his time for some bad choices he made awhile ago. After he gets out, he can put his life back together as well. My brother and dad are good men who have spent too much of their lives rescuing others and hating themselves for it. But we have all grown through this process in our love for each other and in our understanding of our broken family systems. I am sure it never crossed my mind that God could bring healing to our family through my mother's disease. His ways are not my own. Today I am thankful for that.
Over the summer, our family went to breakfast together and it was a wonderful morning. Lots of laughter and good food. Outside the restaurant we had someone take a picture of the 4 of us. We all have big smiles and our hair is even combed. My brother has Redemption written across his shirt. It's a good picture of a good day.
When I looked for a frame at the store, I was with my son. I looked at several but the one we both agreed on had the words "Fairy Tales do come true!" written on the bottom. I am sure it is supposed to be a wedding frame, but who cares. If I was honest, all I really wanted as a kid was a safe and loving home. That seems accurate considering it is all I want for my own kids now. But safety is one of those words you have to wrestle with because it probably looks really different in your head than it does to the Lord. But He is the author and perfecter of our faith, so I think I will go with his picture and not my own from here out.
Thanksgiving will be a hard day. I will pull away and cry more than a couple times, but it will be a good day and we will encourage each other all the more as we see the day approaching. Jesus will be with us and we will see His glory.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
A trailer, a stranger and one tough bird
I've been trying to go home regularly to help out my Dad. We are at the point where conversation is almost impossible with my Mom. She just can't track you or consistently form complete sentences. But my Dad appreciates the breaks and the company. She enjoys being read to and sometimes I play the guitar, but mostly we watch TV together. Thank God for football and the baseball playoffs! But I am also starting to appreciate the ministry of presence. Sometimes, it's just nice to not be alone.
A recent development in our lives has been the purchase of a new used van. It is literally the nicest thing I have ever owned! I drive everywhere in my daily life. Tijitsu, piano lessons, cross country, hip hop class, and drama practice are just the kid's lives. I have a life too, so I am in the car a lot.
An unexpected blessing and curse of this disease, is that you have time to start downsizing as you slowly prepare for the next phase of life. You don't know the time frame and you are caring for someone in the meantime, but you know the end is coming so you start to prepare. A while back my father gave us his old motorcycle. Our new minivan (Pearl is her name) has a trailer hitch. That is such an answer to prayer for us! So on this trip home I rented a motorcycle trailer and set out for home.
But on the way to my folks, the trailer started to list very badly to the point that I thought it was going to fly off or do some damage to my new van! I was going 70 mph on the interstate when it started. Thankfully, my father was a good driving instructor so I didn't panic and gradually slowed down and got over to the side of the road. When I got out, I noticed the trailer had come completely unhitched due to the nut falling off the ball. Amazingly, it had only scratched my bumper. Thankfully, Pearl was still in good shape.
But then it started to rain and I had to figure out what to do next. Plus, I travel with my dog, so she was a wild card in the picture as well. But less than 2 minutes later, a white Subaru pulled up behind me with something sticking out of it's grill. Initially, I thought he was there to help me, but as he got closer I saw the hawk. Hawk's are much bigger than you think. I'm not sure I've ever stood within 3 feet of one but what amazed the stranger and I the most, was that the hawk was still alive. It was clearly stunned but very much alive and deeply lodged into the grill.
The stranger had some gloves and eventually pulled the hawk out of the grill. Sadly, we both agreed there was nothing really to do for the wounded hawk other than leave it by the side of the road. It was a terrible feeling for both of us. But I also saw the hand of God to allow this beautiful bird to suffer in order to bring help to me in my time of need. (Sound familiar?)
The stranger was a vet of the Iraq war and a really nice guy who drove me back and forth to Lowe's (less than 5 minutes away). Another good guy at Lowe's made sure the nut was on nice and tight and that I had the important washer that did not come with my original purchase. Within 20 minutes, we were back at the car with my dog still napping in the backseat. Amazing!
But I am also a great animal lover and wanted to check on the hawk, in hopes it had died while we were gone and was not suffering. But as I walked the highway shoulder, the hawk was gone. There was no sign of it anywhere. More Amazing!
The story is cool enough to stand on its own, but let me tell you what God spoke to me. "I am with you. I love your heart and I will make a way for you. This is a good work you are doing loving your family. I will carry you through this trying time." That is the God we serve. He provides blessings. He sends help in times of trouble. He carries us while we travel through the valley of the shadow of death.
Hold tight to His hand friend. Cast your cares on Him because He cares for you.
A recent development in our lives has been the purchase of a new used van. It is literally the nicest thing I have ever owned! I drive everywhere in my daily life. Tijitsu, piano lessons, cross country, hip hop class, and drama practice are just the kid's lives. I have a life too, so I am in the car a lot.
An unexpected blessing and curse of this disease, is that you have time to start downsizing as you slowly prepare for the next phase of life. You don't know the time frame and you are caring for someone in the meantime, but you know the end is coming so you start to prepare. A while back my father gave us his old motorcycle. Our new minivan (Pearl is her name) has a trailer hitch. That is such an answer to prayer for us! So on this trip home I rented a motorcycle trailer and set out for home.
But on the way to my folks, the trailer started to list very badly to the point that I thought it was going to fly off or do some damage to my new van! I was going 70 mph on the interstate when it started. Thankfully, my father was a good driving instructor so I didn't panic and gradually slowed down and got over to the side of the road. When I got out, I noticed the trailer had come completely unhitched due to the nut falling off the ball. Amazingly, it had only scratched my bumper. Thankfully, Pearl was still in good shape.
But then it started to rain and I had to figure out what to do next. Plus, I travel with my dog, so she was a wild card in the picture as well. But less than 2 minutes later, a white Subaru pulled up behind me with something sticking out of it's grill. Initially, I thought he was there to help me, but as he got closer I saw the hawk. Hawk's are much bigger than you think. I'm not sure I've ever stood within 3 feet of one but what amazed the stranger and I the most, was that the hawk was still alive. It was clearly stunned but very much alive and deeply lodged into the grill.
The stranger had some gloves and eventually pulled the hawk out of the grill. Sadly, we both agreed there was nothing really to do for the wounded hawk other than leave it by the side of the road. It was a terrible feeling for both of us. But I also saw the hand of God to allow this beautiful bird to suffer in order to bring help to me in my time of need. (Sound familiar?)
The stranger was a vet of the Iraq war and a really nice guy who drove me back and forth to Lowe's (less than 5 minutes away). Another good guy at Lowe's made sure the nut was on nice and tight and that I had the important washer that did not come with my original purchase. Within 20 minutes, we were back at the car with my dog still napping in the backseat. Amazing!
But I am also a great animal lover and wanted to check on the hawk, in hopes it had died while we were gone and was not suffering. But as I walked the highway shoulder, the hawk was gone. There was no sign of it anywhere. More Amazing!
The story is cool enough to stand on its own, but let me tell you what God spoke to me. "I am with you. I love your heart and I will make a way for you. This is a good work you are doing loving your family. I will carry you through this trying time." That is the God we serve. He provides blessings. He sends help in times of trouble. He carries us while we travel through the valley of the shadow of death.
Hold tight to His hand friend. Cast your cares on Him because He cares for you.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
The little things
My parents have made a habit of each sending me a birthday card. Often they arrive at the same time, but at some point they both felt the need to have their own card. I have mixed feelings about it but have decided to believe they just have so much to say to me that one card can't fit it all. Someday I will ask my Dad what that was all about.
So the cards came again this year. But this year, I could not make out my Mother's sentiment. She's always had good handwriting, but the words were not spelled right and I'm not really sure even what she intended. I am guessing my Dad did not catch it before he put them in the mail. So when my daughter and I opened them together on our joint birthday, I simply set mine aside in order to give her the focus. But also to conceal my pain and sadness.
It's the little things that get me at the end of the day. Certainly the dramatic shifts hit hard. On our ride back home, after my mom's visit, I found myself referring to my parents by their first names because my Mom did not know who I was. When I used the term "Mom" or "Dad" she became alarmed that she did not recognize me. So, instead, I spoke to her as a friend and not a daughter. That is hard and I found myself crying quietly as we drove and she enjoyed the music. So I suppose that's really just another little thing too. Having to use different pronouns doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but in my heart I know it's much bigger than that.
I'm starting to realize that I have held a deep fear, probably all my life, of being forgotten. That fear has probably dictated more of my choices than I realize, but here we are now and I am being slowly forgotten by my own mother. Certainly understanding my fear has helped me hold it up to the light of truth and God is clear that even if all around me forget me, He will never forget me. He even mentions mothers and babies.
Isaiah 49:15
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!"
The verse provides comfort but the release of the fear into the hands of a good God allows the peace to come. Even still, the tears come too as each little thing dies or passes away. I don't know what else to do but let the sadness come and let the tears fall.
I've spent most of my life in the realm of anger not sadness, so this is still new territory to me. But I see how anger isolates us although we may feel protected by it to some degree as well. But sadness draws people towards us and allows us to let the pain go. Anger seems to just add another brick to the castle wall. But maybe sadness puts a door in the wall in hopes that someone will enter in and comfort us so we won't have to do it all alone. Perhaps God even designed it that way.
However, I still think it all sucks, even though I'm starting to see God's kindness in it as well.
So the cards came again this year. But this year, I could not make out my Mother's sentiment. She's always had good handwriting, but the words were not spelled right and I'm not really sure even what she intended. I am guessing my Dad did not catch it before he put them in the mail. So when my daughter and I opened them together on our joint birthday, I simply set mine aside in order to give her the focus. But also to conceal my pain and sadness.
It's the little things that get me at the end of the day. Certainly the dramatic shifts hit hard. On our ride back home, after my mom's visit, I found myself referring to my parents by their first names because my Mom did not know who I was. When I used the term "Mom" or "Dad" she became alarmed that she did not recognize me. So, instead, I spoke to her as a friend and not a daughter. That is hard and I found myself crying quietly as we drove and she enjoyed the music. So I suppose that's really just another little thing too. Having to use different pronouns doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but in my heart I know it's much bigger than that.
I'm starting to realize that I have held a deep fear, probably all my life, of being forgotten. That fear has probably dictated more of my choices than I realize, but here we are now and I am being slowly forgotten by my own mother. Certainly understanding my fear has helped me hold it up to the light of truth and God is clear that even if all around me forget me, He will never forget me. He even mentions mothers and babies.
Isaiah 49:15
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!"
The verse provides comfort but the release of the fear into the hands of a good God allows the peace to come. Even still, the tears come too as each little thing dies or passes away. I don't know what else to do but let the sadness come and let the tears fall.
I've spent most of my life in the realm of anger not sadness, so this is still new territory to me. But I see how anger isolates us although we may feel protected by it to some degree as well. But sadness draws people towards us and allows us to let the pain go. Anger seems to just add another brick to the castle wall. But maybe sadness puts a door in the wall in hopes that someone will enter in and comfort us so we won't have to do it all alone. Perhaps God even designed it that way.
However, I still think it all sucks, even though I'm starting to see God's kindness in it as well.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
A Sweet Autumn Kindness
On the high fence row outside my bird watching window, I have a very large vine that grows each year all summer long. By the fall it has almost completely taken over the fence and measures about 20 feet long. It probably drives my neighbor nuts, because it is just enormous and overtakes everything on the fence row.
I've noticed every fall that it blooms with little white flowers for just a short period and then fades. It seems to me like way too much work to grow that big for that long to only bloom for a few weeks in the fall. But each year it grows a bit bigger and consumes more and more of the fence.
This year it bloomed when my Mother came to stay with me for a week. I could not help but notice how nice the weather was while she was here and how much she enjoyed just sitting in my backyard.
I've spent the last year transforming my backyard into a quite and beautiful place. I have a wildflower area under my bird feeders and a japanese rock garden with a fountain (for my daughter). My husband built benches and a table for me that work perfect with my string of party lights. We love to have fires together around our fire pit at night. On the patio, we moved a bunch of stones so we could put in a life size checkerboard. (for my son) Then we topped if off with an herb garden and vegetable garden. (for my other 2 kids) All of it creates a wonderful place to be refreshed and God used it to bless my mother.
Today I learned the name of that very large vine. It is a Sweet Autumn Clematis. I am touched that the Lord has tied the blooming of this vine to a memory with my mother. I see that as a kindness of the Lord orchestrated just for me. These are the ways He ministers to me in my sadness. He whispers to me "I am here. I am with you. I see it all and know your tears. Don't be afraid, for I am with her in the valley of the shadow of death. My rod and my staff will comfort her and she will live in the house of the Lord forever."
Thank you Jesus.
I've noticed every fall that it blooms with little white flowers for just a short period and then fades. It seems to me like way too much work to grow that big for that long to only bloom for a few weeks in the fall. But each year it grows a bit bigger and consumes more and more of the fence.
This year it bloomed when my Mother came to stay with me for a week. I could not help but notice how nice the weather was while she was here and how much she enjoyed just sitting in my backyard.
I've spent the last year transforming my backyard into a quite and beautiful place. I have a wildflower area under my bird feeders and a japanese rock garden with a fountain (for my daughter). My husband built benches and a table for me that work perfect with my string of party lights. We love to have fires together around our fire pit at night. On the patio, we moved a bunch of stones so we could put in a life size checkerboard. (for my son) Then we topped if off with an herb garden and vegetable garden. (for my other 2 kids) All of it creates a wonderful place to be refreshed and God used it to bless my mother.
Today I learned the name of that very large vine. It is a Sweet Autumn Clematis. I am touched that the Lord has tied the blooming of this vine to a memory with my mother. I see that as a kindness of the Lord orchestrated just for me. These are the ways He ministers to me in my sadness. He whispers to me "I am here. I am with you. I see it all and know your tears. Don't be afraid, for I am with her in the valley of the shadow of death. My rod and my staff will comfort her and she will live in the house of the Lord forever."
Thank you Jesus.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Happy Birthday to me
Tonight my parent's called to sing Happy Birthday to me on my voice mail. They've done that many times over the years and it always makes me smile. My father is quite a ham when he sings and to be honest they both have pretty good voices.
But I could tell my mom didn't really know the words. Dad had to walk her through it and carry the tune. I noticed she was having trouble with words in songs during her last visit. I remember the sadness welling up in my heart as we attempted to sing together in the car on the ride home.
That is one of the most difficult things about this disease. You loose the person in pieces. I really can't say if that is easier or harder than a quick death. I have nothing to really compare it to. But just 6 months ago I remember enjoying singing hymns in church with my mother and daughter at my side. Now that part is fading away.
I know I'm an analytical person and that's probably why I picked up on this entire pattern well before anyone else did 5 years ago. It was on my birthday that I got the call my Dad had had a heart attack. My husband was flying back from Asia and I was on the road for home as soon as he was on the ground to be with my mom and dad.
My mother was a mess. She couldn't really sleep. She was forgetting to eat, but more than that, she couldn't play a simple game of cards with me or find her way around the hospital. (Granted - I often get lost in hospitals. Major design flaw!) A number of people said it was probably stress induced so when Dad got better and came home, we waited for it to pass. It certainly got better but it also seemed to be the start of the end.
Now whenever I am with her or talk to her, I notice something else each time. Eventually the tears come and I grieve another loss. What I don't like is it happens while I'm listening to the radio, or standing in line at Walmart or talking to a friend. The sadness just wells up in me and spills out. All I've learned to do so far is let it come. I make some room for it and let it do its work. It allows me to grieve what has passed and yet appreciate what is left.
During her last visit, my mother misidentified most of the people in my life as old friends of hers. Even the greeter at Walmart got a big hug, smile and warm greeting from this woman who could not have possibly known her. But each person was loved by this broken, forgetful woman. God does not need our mental capacity to use us to love others. Who knows? It may be easier for Him to use my mother to love people now that her mind is not in the way. That's a radical thought for me. But I watched her do it over and over again and just marveled at the way it blessed others and blessed her too, to just love without any understanding.
So I weep for my slowly diminishing mother. But perhaps that is not how God sees this at all. Perhaps this is a season of great blessing in the midst of the sadness. I may be starting to see that possibility, but I will need help Jesus.
Help me Jesus and thanks for one more Happy Birthday song on my voicemail.
But I could tell my mom didn't really know the words. Dad had to walk her through it and carry the tune. I noticed she was having trouble with words in songs during her last visit. I remember the sadness welling up in my heart as we attempted to sing together in the car on the ride home.
That is one of the most difficult things about this disease. You loose the person in pieces. I really can't say if that is easier or harder than a quick death. I have nothing to really compare it to. But just 6 months ago I remember enjoying singing hymns in church with my mother and daughter at my side. Now that part is fading away.
I know I'm an analytical person and that's probably why I picked up on this entire pattern well before anyone else did 5 years ago. It was on my birthday that I got the call my Dad had had a heart attack. My husband was flying back from Asia and I was on the road for home as soon as he was on the ground to be with my mom and dad.
My mother was a mess. She couldn't really sleep. She was forgetting to eat, but more than that, she couldn't play a simple game of cards with me or find her way around the hospital. (Granted - I often get lost in hospitals. Major design flaw!) A number of people said it was probably stress induced so when Dad got better and came home, we waited for it to pass. It certainly got better but it also seemed to be the start of the end.
Now whenever I am with her or talk to her, I notice something else each time. Eventually the tears come and I grieve another loss. What I don't like is it happens while I'm listening to the radio, or standing in line at Walmart or talking to a friend. The sadness just wells up in me and spills out. All I've learned to do so far is let it come. I make some room for it and let it do its work. It allows me to grieve what has passed and yet appreciate what is left.
During her last visit, my mother misidentified most of the people in my life as old friends of hers. Even the greeter at Walmart got a big hug, smile and warm greeting from this woman who could not have possibly known her. But each person was loved by this broken, forgetful woman. God does not need our mental capacity to use us to love others. Who knows? It may be easier for Him to use my mother to love people now that her mind is not in the way. That's a radical thought for me. But I watched her do it over and over again and just marveled at the way it blessed others and blessed her too, to just love without any understanding.
So I weep for my slowly diminishing mother. But perhaps that is not how God sees this at all. Perhaps this is a season of great blessing in the midst of the sadness. I may be starting to see that possibility, but I will need help Jesus.
Help me Jesus and thanks for one more Happy Birthday song on my voicemail.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Anger and Awe
I am often surprised at the things God uses to show himself and care for my heart. The summer before I accepted God's love for me, I spent a month in Switzerland camping in the alps on a research project. I had always dreamed of becoming a field biologist. Switzerland is an incredibly beautiful place. Sitting in the alps and looking down on the glacier fed lakes with the blue skies above will take your breath away. It will also produce so much awe in your soul that you can't help but stop to thank someone for the pleasure of getting to experience it.
I remember that feeling pretty vividly. It's how I look at the birds in my backyard now. They have been there all along, but my life finally slowed down enough to see them and linger there long enough to feel the awe God intended. Birds are amazing in form and functionality. So many colors and patterns and the ability to fly is just incredible. The hummingbird is probably my favorite. Figure 8 wing patterns allow it to hover like a helicopter. Amazing!
During the many years of anger towards my mother, it often seemed my world was in constant chaos. Looking back, it probably was in constant chaos emotionally. Our circumstances will always seem to change, but our perspective will dictate how much the chaos of life impacts us.
My mother was a professional victim growing up. She played the role really well. She was a martyr half the time and a then in a state of self-pity the rest of the time. It is powerful form of control because it requires you to push back against someone who already seems beaten down. But the truth is they are controlling you by being the victim and you have to stand up to them which seems counter-intuitive. The other wicked element of your mom being a victim, is she is your role model.
If you had asked me 10 years ago, "Do you and your mom have much in common?" I would have flatly denied it. But the truth is I am a very good victim as well. It feels like the second layer of dysfunction. First you have to identify and deal with that person's sin, but second you have to look in the mirror and be willing to repent of the sin you've been perpetuating. Very messy and very not fun stuff. As a bonus, it goes to another level when you see the victim card showing up in your own daughter. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it. But this is reality and we need to face it if we are to no longer be controlled by it.
So for many years, I've been trying to forgive my mother while pealing away these layers of pain and shame and anger. It is a slow process. When she was first diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I was not sad for her. I was seriously pissed off at her. My internal dialog was "You played the victim our whole lives growing up and controlled and manipulated us, and now you are actually a victim and we are forced to take care of you. Somehow the focus always stays on Mom!". It made me crazy, as if all the anger I had worked to drain off came back and I had made no progress at all.
Sadly black and white interpretations of life is also a legacy of our family. In truth, I had made tons of progress just to be able to see the reasons behind that spike of anger. But at the end of the day, God is fighting for my freedom. Freedom from the anger that binds me to my mother. Freedom from the "should" lists in my head. (both from my family and God's word). Freedom from being a victim myself.
See that is the kicker. My response to my mother's disease is that of a victim. "Whoas me, I am so afflicted and my life is not my own! She always wins, I never win. It will always be about her and never about me." My freedom is found in rejecting that lie and realizing I have choices. Often, we are victims because we allow ourselves to be victimized. You have a choice. Someone may have told you for a very long time that you don't have a choice, but that is not true. You do and you will always have a choice.
I can walk away from my mother. That is my choice. The truth is I only visit monthly because it's all I have to offer given my emotional health, my distance and my own family's season of life. Four teenagers keeps you moving and my husband travels internationally. I call my mom when I can and I have the emotional energy. I have had to accept my own limitations. That is a hard place to find and stay in, but it is so key to real freedom and not just adding to the bitterness of the victim mindset.
My mom is about 6 inches shorter than I am and yet has always felt twice my size. As this mantle of the victim falls away from me, she seems to be shrinking. I see her as a scared, broken woman now who has some really sweet elements to her that I did not get to see much as a kid. (for any number of reasons) So there is a growing sense of awe in the midst of the deep sadness. Recently she spoke to me about her daughter Andee. That was my name growing up. She had many good things to say about her daughter. Clearly she loved her very much and was so very proud of her. It is the affirmation I need as a mom of teenagers, and I am in awe that God found a way to offer it to me even in my mother's current state. It is a bittersweet blessing to be spoken of in the 3rd person, knowing your mother doesn't recognize you. But it cares for my soul in a way few things in this world can.
I never saw that coming. But it gives me hope that as I simply take the hand of Jesus in the midst of the sorrow and suffering and let him lead me, there will be blessing and kindness and freedom.
Thank you Jesus.
I remember that feeling pretty vividly. It's how I look at the birds in my backyard now. They have been there all along, but my life finally slowed down enough to see them and linger there long enough to feel the awe God intended. Birds are amazing in form and functionality. So many colors and patterns and the ability to fly is just incredible. The hummingbird is probably my favorite. Figure 8 wing patterns allow it to hover like a helicopter. Amazing!
During the many years of anger towards my mother, it often seemed my world was in constant chaos. Looking back, it probably was in constant chaos emotionally. Our circumstances will always seem to change, but our perspective will dictate how much the chaos of life impacts us.
My mother was a professional victim growing up. She played the role really well. She was a martyr half the time and a then in a state of self-pity the rest of the time. It is powerful form of control because it requires you to push back against someone who already seems beaten down. But the truth is they are controlling you by being the victim and you have to stand up to them which seems counter-intuitive. The other wicked element of your mom being a victim, is she is your role model.
If you had asked me 10 years ago, "Do you and your mom have much in common?" I would have flatly denied it. But the truth is I am a very good victim as well. It feels like the second layer of dysfunction. First you have to identify and deal with that person's sin, but second you have to look in the mirror and be willing to repent of the sin you've been perpetuating. Very messy and very not fun stuff. As a bonus, it goes to another level when you see the victim card showing up in your own daughter. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it. But this is reality and we need to face it if we are to no longer be controlled by it.
So for many years, I've been trying to forgive my mother while pealing away these layers of pain and shame and anger. It is a slow process. When she was first diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I was not sad for her. I was seriously pissed off at her. My internal dialog was "You played the victim our whole lives growing up and controlled and manipulated us, and now you are actually a victim and we are forced to take care of you. Somehow the focus always stays on Mom!". It made me crazy, as if all the anger I had worked to drain off came back and I had made no progress at all.
Sadly black and white interpretations of life is also a legacy of our family. In truth, I had made tons of progress just to be able to see the reasons behind that spike of anger. But at the end of the day, God is fighting for my freedom. Freedom from the anger that binds me to my mother. Freedom from the "should" lists in my head. (both from my family and God's word). Freedom from being a victim myself.
See that is the kicker. My response to my mother's disease is that of a victim. "Whoas me, I am so afflicted and my life is not my own! She always wins, I never win. It will always be about her and never about me." My freedom is found in rejecting that lie and realizing I have choices. Often, we are victims because we allow ourselves to be victimized. You have a choice. Someone may have told you for a very long time that you don't have a choice, but that is not true. You do and you will always have a choice.
I can walk away from my mother. That is my choice. The truth is I only visit monthly because it's all I have to offer given my emotional health, my distance and my own family's season of life. Four teenagers keeps you moving and my husband travels internationally. I call my mom when I can and I have the emotional energy. I have had to accept my own limitations. That is a hard place to find and stay in, but it is so key to real freedom and not just adding to the bitterness of the victim mindset.
My mom is about 6 inches shorter than I am and yet has always felt twice my size. As this mantle of the victim falls away from me, she seems to be shrinking. I see her as a scared, broken woman now who has some really sweet elements to her that I did not get to see much as a kid. (for any number of reasons) So there is a growing sense of awe in the midst of the deep sadness. Recently she spoke to me about her daughter Andee. That was my name growing up. She had many good things to say about her daughter. Clearly she loved her very much and was so very proud of her. It is the affirmation I need as a mom of teenagers, and I am in awe that God found a way to offer it to me even in my mother's current state. It is a bittersweet blessing to be spoken of in the 3rd person, knowing your mother doesn't recognize you. But it cares for my soul in a way few things in this world can.
I never saw that coming. But it gives me hope that as I simply take the hand of Jesus in the midst of the sorrow and suffering and let him lead me, there will be blessing and kindness and freedom.
Thank you Jesus.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
The Beginning of the End
I recently read an article about a daughter who was caring for her mother with Alzhiemer's. She considered it her privilege to offer back to her mother some of the love she had received as a child. It was a beautiful article that made me cry and left me feeling not so alone.
But later I thought "But what if your mom was an angry bitch growing up, who could change on a dime and left you in a constant state of fear of setting her off?" How do you offer that woman the love and compassion she needs when Alzheimer's becomes her reality? Good question. That's how my journey began.
A friend of mine has always complained that Hallmark should have a division of cards that say things like "Happy Mother's Day Mom! I know you tried, but could you send me some money to cover my therapy costs?" I'm telling you that stuff would sell!
I've spent all my days as a mom trying to do something better for my kids. I have wanted desperately to break the cycle of dysfunction and generational sin in my family. Many of my old friends would look at my life now and say "Wow, great job!" I am married to wonderful man and have amazing kids. But it has been so damn hard to find the healing from my past in the midst of raising my family. To be honest, I did not agree with God's plan from the beginning. It made sense to me to just do all the healing first and then get married and start a family. But that was not God's plan.
My father is my mom's primary caregiver. He is a good man who has made a lot of mistakes in his marriage, but has spent the past 16 years repenting and rebuilding his life. Sadly many years of sin ages a body quickly, and even though my parents are only in their 60's, they seem 20 years ahead of the curve in their physical ailments. My Dad has continual heart problems and his stress level is always a concern.
So last week I gave my dad a break and brought my mother home for the week. The simple idea of even considering that made me cry in my counselor's office less than a year ago. But here I was driving her 6 hours away from her home to my home. I felt hopeful, but knew I needed Jesus to show up big if I was going to even get through the week.
But that is what He did. He showed up big. There has been a major transformation in me since coming to know Jesus. I've always wanted to believe that about myself and certainly my friends tell me that, but this week helped it become true to me. I am so amazed at how God has woven my life together. There are many wonderful memories along the way of good days and victories. But I'm starting to see that even the tragic days and times of sorrow,suffering and pain are beautiful.
I have no idea how long I will be on this road with my mother. Alzheimer's is a wicked disease that seems to ebb and flow as it chooses. To be honest my mother's health is improving because she is not in charge of it anymore. My father is very faithful with her meds and insulin. So here is a woman who's mind is in and out but may be improving in her physical health. Clearly I have no idea what Jesus is planning to do. But I am in it for the long haul.
Why? Because Jesus is in it for the long haul with me. Because Jesus loves me despite me. Because only good comes from the hand of my God even if it is bad. Because my mother needs care and compassion. And because despite all the anger and bitterness and hurt I have had towards my mother; I love her. Believe me, I've tried to get rid of that. It just never worked.
So here we have a beautiful tragedy for me. Designed by God for my good. That understanding changes everything.
But later I thought "But what if your mom was an angry bitch growing up, who could change on a dime and left you in a constant state of fear of setting her off?" How do you offer that woman the love and compassion she needs when Alzheimer's becomes her reality? Good question. That's how my journey began.
A friend of mine has always complained that Hallmark should have a division of cards that say things like "Happy Mother's Day Mom! I know you tried, but could you send me some money to cover my therapy costs?" I'm telling you that stuff would sell!
I've spent all my days as a mom trying to do something better for my kids. I have wanted desperately to break the cycle of dysfunction and generational sin in my family. Many of my old friends would look at my life now and say "Wow, great job!" I am married to wonderful man and have amazing kids. But it has been so damn hard to find the healing from my past in the midst of raising my family. To be honest, I did not agree with God's plan from the beginning. It made sense to me to just do all the healing first and then get married and start a family. But that was not God's plan.
My father is my mom's primary caregiver. He is a good man who has made a lot of mistakes in his marriage, but has spent the past 16 years repenting and rebuilding his life. Sadly many years of sin ages a body quickly, and even though my parents are only in their 60's, they seem 20 years ahead of the curve in their physical ailments. My Dad has continual heart problems and his stress level is always a concern.
So last week I gave my dad a break and brought my mother home for the week. The simple idea of even considering that made me cry in my counselor's office less than a year ago. But here I was driving her 6 hours away from her home to my home. I felt hopeful, but knew I needed Jesus to show up big if I was going to even get through the week.
But that is what He did. He showed up big. There has been a major transformation in me since coming to know Jesus. I've always wanted to believe that about myself and certainly my friends tell me that, but this week helped it become true to me. I am so amazed at how God has woven my life together. There are many wonderful memories along the way of good days and victories. But I'm starting to see that even the tragic days and times of sorrow,suffering and pain are beautiful.
I have no idea how long I will be on this road with my mother. Alzheimer's is a wicked disease that seems to ebb and flow as it chooses. To be honest my mother's health is improving because she is not in charge of it anymore. My father is very faithful with her meds and insulin. So here is a woman who's mind is in and out but may be improving in her physical health. Clearly I have no idea what Jesus is planning to do. But I am in it for the long haul.
Why? Because Jesus is in it for the long haul with me. Because Jesus loves me despite me. Because only good comes from the hand of my God even if it is bad. Because my mother needs care and compassion. And because despite all the anger and bitterness and hurt I have had towards my mother; I love her. Believe me, I've tried to get rid of that. It just never worked.
So here we have a beautiful tragedy for me. Designed by God for my good. That understanding changes everything.
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