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.

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.

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.

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.

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.