Since we buried my mother on my birthday, I find myself very melancholy when my birthday roles around. I have learned to let people celebrate me so there is a festive air surrounding the date and yet ... I also feel the need to pull away and just think and feel. Some people might think that having those two days tied together would be so unfair. But I don't. It is bittersweet in many ways but so is getting older!
Life is finally starting to make more sense in your 50's but your body just can't do everything it used to. I've accepted some limitations when it comes to sleeping on the floor or pulling an all nighter. I really pay for that stuff now!
In truth, however, my birthday has always been tied to my mother whether I realized it or not. That is the day she gave birth to me. After the funeral my Aunt, my mother's sister, said to me that my birthday was one of the happiest days of my mother's life. I can believe that knowing what I know about her life at that time. She was in a hard space with a lot of unknowns and a pocket full of rejection from people created to love her.
So God gave her me.
Taking time to meditate on that on my birthday is a bittersweet gift that makes me smile and cry at the same time. It causes me to lift my eyes to God and say thank you while sitting in awe at the orchestration of my life. I weep because I miss her. I smile when I remember her as my softball coach. I long to see her again in heaven as she was intended and maybe for the first time meet the woman God created to be my mother before she was ravaged by the world. I wish I could just feel the warmth of her skin again. That's all we had left at the end after the disease had run its course. Just the warmth of her skin. I took that for granted my whole life and only held the gift for a moment right at the very end.
I miss you mom.
You would be so proud of your grandkids! They are truly amazing people. They would have brought you so much joy. A part of me wants to believe that you can see them through the veil. That somehow you are still showing their pictures to everyone in heaven on a regular basis. I know you would because you did it all the time down here.
But I think you would be proud of me too. I have fought for my marriage and stood up for what was right even when most people turned away from me for what was easy. I have been an advocate for the oppressed while becoming a bringer of peace in as much as it has depended upon me. I have sought humility and forgiveness for the ways I have failed my children. Above all I have run hard after my God believing that He would heal our families wounds. We aren't done yet, but we are moving in the right direction.
I still have a birthday card you sent me many years ago that was huge and sang to you when you opened it. So over the top! But just like you! It makes me smile now, or perhaps smirk and roll my eyes a bit. Either way I'm glad I have it. Funny what stays with us in the end.
Wish you were here.
Love
Andee
Wednesday, September 16, 2020
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Mother's Day 2020
She's been gone for 2.5 years now and yet . . .
How does that happen? How does someone never die even after they die? I was starting to feel sad a few days before Mother's Day and didn't even realize it was related to missing my mother. I spoke to someone the other day whose mother has been gone for many years and yet clearly she is alive in their heart and even influencing their life still.
This is the blessing and curse of being a mother I suppose.
We have so much influence and yet we can feel so powerless at the same time. It is a role full of paradox. Our children need us desperately and yet they push us away in order to become themselves. We can be quickly blamed for a myriad of things and then years later be thanked for the exact same things.
Who would want to be a mother?
Well, my mother did and I am glad she did. In the 60's there were ways to end a pregnancy even though it was not legal yet. I was not a planned pregnancy and my presence forced a lot of people to make some decisions. But my mother never treated me that way. She never spoke a word about me being an unwanted pregnancy. In fact she had me baptized in the Catholic church even after they wouldn't let her get married in the church because she was pregnant prior to getting married. That is a tremendous act of humility on my mother's part and from what I can tell, she may have been all alone when she did it too.
That is a gift she gave me when she was 19 years old that I have only come to appreciate now as a 53 year old woman.
Who would want to be a mother?
In the past year I have begun to explore my own Catholic journey. It is not something that was ever on my "to do" list until God put it on my "get this done" list. So now the humble act of my mother 53 years ago is a gift to me today even though she has been gone for 2.5 years. How did God do that?
That might be why people become mothers.
A mother never dies and they can bless you even from the other side. It's a really hard job though. A single day of celebration seems hardly fitting for all that a mother does. But as a mother myself, I know I am not in it for the praise. I am in love. I am in love with my children and the God who made them. I am also thankful for my husband for being on the ride with me and I love him too!
So thank you mom. I am a good mom and you get some credit for that. Thank you for gifts I am still discovering. May I offer my children the same after my days on this earth are spent.
Miss you,
Andee
How does that happen? How does someone never die even after they die? I was starting to feel sad a few days before Mother's Day and didn't even realize it was related to missing my mother. I spoke to someone the other day whose mother has been gone for many years and yet clearly she is alive in their heart and even influencing their life still.
This is the blessing and curse of being a mother I suppose.
We have so much influence and yet we can feel so powerless at the same time. It is a role full of paradox. Our children need us desperately and yet they push us away in order to become themselves. We can be quickly blamed for a myriad of things and then years later be thanked for the exact same things.
Who would want to be a mother?
Well, my mother did and I am glad she did. In the 60's there were ways to end a pregnancy even though it was not legal yet. I was not a planned pregnancy and my presence forced a lot of people to make some decisions. But my mother never treated me that way. She never spoke a word about me being an unwanted pregnancy. In fact she had me baptized in the Catholic church even after they wouldn't let her get married in the church because she was pregnant prior to getting married. That is a tremendous act of humility on my mother's part and from what I can tell, she may have been all alone when she did it too.
That is a gift she gave me when she was 19 years old that I have only come to appreciate now as a 53 year old woman.
Who would want to be a mother?
In the past year I have begun to explore my own Catholic journey. It is not something that was ever on my "to do" list until God put it on my "get this done" list. So now the humble act of my mother 53 years ago is a gift to me today even though she has been gone for 2.5 years. How did God do that?
That might be why people become mothers.
A mother never dies and they can bless you even from the other side. It's a really hard job though. A single day of celebration seems hardly fitting for all that a mother does. But as a mother myself, I know I am not in it for the praise. I am in love. I am in love with my children and the God who made them. I am also thankful for my husband for being on the ride with me and I love him too!
So thank you mom. I am a good mom and you get some credit for that. Thank you for gifts I am still discovering. May I offer my children the same after my days on this earth are spent.
Miss you,
Andee
Monday, August 13, 2018
And then the end came . . .
It is striking to me that my last post was over a year ago.
This is the first time I have found the words to write again about my mother. She died last September and I knew when I wrote this, a new reality would sink into the deeper places of my soul. So as I expected, I cry while I write today.
We buried my mother on my birthday. She was 71 as I turned 52.
The end was so hard.
You've said your goodbyes and yet you struggle to let go. "Should I be there at the end? She is 6 hours away and I need to live my life. I have 3 kids still at home and I've spent the last 8 years traveling back and forth never knowing when it would be the last time. I have already missed so much."
"What is the "right" thing to do?"
The question is the problem.
From the very beginning there simply was no "right" thing to do. This entire journey was a half ass attempt to love a dying woman while life just kept moving forward. Children grew up while mom slowly died. Marriage and money got hard while mom slowly died. Relationships with family went sideways while mom slowly died. Who in the world could tell you what was "right" at any time?
The viewing the night before the funeral, almost crushed my brother and I. We had to console people we knew had been just terrible to my mother. Why do people come to offer condolences to the dead when they treated them like garbage while they were alive? We almost lost it a few times.
But the funeral was so kind. Thankfully God had asked me to write my mother's eulogy a year before her death. For several months, I had a birthday trip planned with some friends a few days before my birthday. It was a sweet gift to me to just pull out those words in the Smoky Mountains and dust them off rather than sit down and write them in the moment. On the day of the funeral I spoke and my family sang "It is Well" through our tears. All my kids were present which was deeply kind to them, me and my father and brother. At the graveside, I sang "Amazing Grace". All 4 verses and with a key change!
The surprising truth was that I felt great!! I felt like I had been unleashed and that I had gotten my life back! Yes, I was sad that my mother was dead, but then again, not really! She was with Jesus!! She was no longer in pain. She was in a new resurrected body and could finally see and experience the love that God had always wanted her to know.
She went home.
I was so happy for her and I felt deeply relieved. Even now sometimes when I am worshipping, I see my mother and we are both brimming with the expectation of being in eternity together! I will meet who God intended her to be for the first time in heaven. I will see her as she was intended and not as the world mangled her. I am so excited that I will know my actual mother in glory!
But I know now my mother loved me. She was just a woman on fire most of her life and her ability to love was deeply hindered. I saw beautiful glimpses of that love throughout my life, but maybe mainly during her Alzheimer's.
How did God do that?
That is what He does. He creates beauty from ashes. He is the Creator and Redeemer. He creates our beauty and when we smash it or it is smashed, He redeems it. All simply because He loves us and He is good.
However, grieving is a process, so the story will continue.
We all need time when death interrupts life.
There is still much to tell.
This is the first time I have found the words to write again about my mother. She died last September and I knew when I wrote this, a new reality would sink into the deeper places of my soul. So as I expected, I cry while I write today.
We buried my mother on my birthday. She was 71 as I turned 52.
The end was so hard.
You've said your goodbyes and yet you struggle to let go. "Should I be there at the end? She is 6 hours away and I need to live my life. I have 3 kids still at home and I've spent the last 8 years traveling back and forth never knowing when it would be the last time. I have already missed so much."
"What is the "right" thing to do?"
The question is the problem.
From the very beginning there simply was no "right" thing to do. This entire journey was a half ass attempt to love a dying woman while life just kept moving forward. Children grew up while mom slowly died. Marriage and money got hard while mom slowly died. Relationships with family went sideways while mom slowly died. Who in the world could tell you what was "right" at any time?
The viewing the night before the funeral, almost crushed my brother and I. We had to console people we knew had been just terrible to my mother. Why do people come to offer condolences to the dead when they treated them like garbage while they were alive? We almost lost it a few times.
But the funeral was so kind. Thankfully God had asked me to write my mother's eulogy a year before her death. For several months, I had a birthday trip planned with some friends a few days before my birthday. It was a sweet gift to me to just pull out those words in the Smoky Mountains and dust them off rather than sit down and write them in the moment. On the day of the funeral I spoke and my family sang "It is Well" through our tears. All my kids were present which was deeply kind to them, me and my father and brother. At the graveside, I sang "Amazing Grace". All 4 verses and with a key change!
The surprising truth was that I felt great!! I felt like I had been unleashed and that I had gotten my life back! Yes, I was sad that my mother was dead, but then again, not really! She was with Jesus!! She was no longer in pain. She was in a new resurrected body and could finally see and experience the love that God had always wanted her to know.
She went home.
I was so happy for her and I felt deeply relieved. Even now sometimes when I am worshipping, I see my mother and we are both brimming with the expectation of being in eternity together! I will meet who God intended her to be for the first time in heaven. I will see her as she was intended and not as the world mangled her. I am so excited that I will know my actual mother in glory!
But I know now my mother loved me. She was just a woman on fire most of her life and her ability to love was deeply hindered. I saw beautiful glimpses of that love throughout my life, but maybe mainly during her Alzheimer's.
How did God do that?
That is what He does. He creates beauty from ashes. He is the Creator and Redeemer. He creates our beauty and when we smash it or it is smashed, He redeems it. All simply because He loves us and He is good.
However, grieving is a process, so the story will continue.
We all need time when death interrupts life.
There is still much to tell.
Friday, May 12, 2017
Another Mother's Day
This has become a pretty difficult day on the calendar for me. What do you do when your mother is alive and yet there is no way to connect with her? Do you celebrate? Do you mourn? As usual the answer is both.
Today I found myself missing even my grandma who passed away over 25 years ago. It amazes me how we carry people with us.
But what am I missing exactly?
Both my mother and grandmother were very capable women. They both had strong personalities and became the bread winners in their families. Neither of them was very good at nurturing. They got stuff done. But even in the midst of their doing, I felt seen from time to time.
My mother knew my favorite pie was rhubarb. She would make me a small personal pie on my birthday each year that wasn't contaminated with strawberries. The best part was that I didn't have to share it with anyone. She knew me well enough to know how special that was to me and I felt seen.
My grandmother made clothes every Christmas for the grand kids and she knew my arms were just a bit longer than and my shoulders a bit broader than her patterns, so she altered them. They were the best fitting shirts I ever wore and I felt seen.
As a mother myself, I work very hard to make sure my children feel seen. I am not always successful. I've even forgotten to pick them up from time to time after an event. (I do have 4 kids!) But I know the details of their lives from personality likes and dislikes, to learning styles, to what they order at Steak and Shake. I am hopeful they will look back and know they were seen in a myriad of ways by their mother.
So today I miss being seen by those two women. But I can also be thankful for the small graces of being seen amidst the difficulties of our lives growing up. We all have trouble getting past our own sin in order to love others well.
I still love and look for rhubarb pie when I go to a restaurant. It's hard to find.
I deeply long for the day I can afford a tailor to alter my clothes they way grandma did.
Thankfully God has surrounded me with Godly women who mother me well day in and day out. I am blessed.
But I miss my mom and grandma. So today I will celebrate and mourn the mother's in my life.
Today I found myself missing even my grandma who passed away over 25 years ago. It amazes me how we carry people with us.
But what am I missing exactly?
Both my mother and grandmother were very capable women. They both had strong personalities and became the bread winners in their families. Neither of them was very good at nurturing. They got stuff done. But even in the midst of their doing, I felt seen from time to time.
My mother knew my favorite pie was rhubarb. She would make me a small personal pie on my birthday each year that wasn't contaminated with strawberries. The best part was that I didn't have to share it with anyone. She knew me well enough to know how special that was to me and I felt seen.
My grandmother made clothes every Christmas for the grand kids and she knew my arms were just a bit longer than and my shoulders a bit broader than her patterns, so she altered them. They were the best fitting shirts I ever wore and I felt seen.
As a mother myself, I work very hard to make sure my children feel seen. I am not always successful. I've even forgotten to pick them up from time to time after an event. (I do have 4 kids!) But I know the details of their lives from personality likes and dislikes, to learning styles, to what they order at Steak and Shake. I am hopeful they will look back and know they were seen in a myriad of ways by their mother.
So today I miss being seen by those two women. But I can also be thankful for the small graces of being seen amidst the difficulties of our lives growing up. We all have trouble getting past our own sin in order to love others well.
I still love and look for rhubarb pie when I go to a restaurant. It's hard to find.
I deeply long for the day I can afford a tailor to alter my clothes they way grandma did.
Thankfully God has surrounded me with Godly women who mother me well day in and day out. I am blessed.
But I miss my mom and grandma. So today I will celebrate and mourn the mother's in my life.
Friday, February 10, 2017
small gifts
After reading my Dec post, I see that I blogged about the same thing in Feb. Clearly I needed to process that event twice in order to move on. So be it.
Last week my oldest daughter and I traveled home for a funeral in the family. My dad's oldest brother passed away. It was a somber event and yet I saw Jesus in many of my relatives and I had no idea anyone knew Him. It was so encouraging and sweet for me. What a gift.
But this time we needed to stay in a hotel. Dad prepared the house, but we just couldn't do it. It is so hard to be in the house now.
My daughter leaves for China soon and it was a chance for her to say good bye again to grandma. Before we left town we stopped by the house to see mom.
Please understand there is so little left now. No eye contact, no sense of the room, and consistent choking on her own saliva. It is so hard. But when my daughter sat next to her my mom started moving. She found my daughter's hand, pulled it to her heart and would not let it go.
We were undone.
I am undone right now just writing it.
One day when my daughter is older we will be able to process it all, but for now we are simply undone.
She is in there. She knows more than we understand.
She is still a gift to us, so we will enjoy what we can and remain faithful and thankful for the time we have left.
Thank you Jesus for small gifts and powerful memories of love that will never fade.
Amen.
Last week my oldest daughter and I traveled home for a funeral in the family. My dad's oldest brother passed away. It was a somber event and yet I saw Jesus in many of my relatives and I had no idea anyone knew Him. It was so encouraging and sweet for me. What a gift.
But this time we needed to stay in a hotel. Dad prepared the house, but we just couldn't do it. It is so hard to be in the house now.
My daughter leaves for China soon and it was a chance for her to say good bye again to grandma. Before we left town we stopped by the house to see mom.
Please understand there is so little left now. No eye contact, no sense of the room, and consistent choking on her own saliva. It is so hard. But when my daughter sat next to her my mom started moving. She found my daughter's hand, pulled it to her heart and would not let it go.
We were undone.
I am undone right now just writing it.
One day when my daughter is older we will be able to process it all, but for now we are simply undone.
She is in there. She knows more than we understand.
She is still a gift to us, so we will enjoy what we can and remain faithful and thankful for the time we have left.
Thank you Jesus for small gifts and powerful memories of love that will never fade.
Amen.
How can this be?
Recently both my father and brother ended up in the hospital on the same day with heart related issues. Needless to say I dropped things and headed home for 48 hours. My father is the primary care giver. Who stays with my mom when he goes into the hospital? Our gracious and very kind care provider stayed the first night. She has been an angel to us and we are very thankful for her. But it gets very difficult at the end.
Now the focus is moving, feeding and cleaning.
My mother actually seems to be shriveling up as her muscles atrophy and her hands curl in. She aspirates quit often because she can barely remember to swallow now. She lost her days and nights awhile ago and though they maintain a clear routine for her, she is either lying in her bed or propped up on the couch. Sleep comes when it wants.
That is all there is now.
She has to have all the food pureed and thickened and spoon fed. And then there is the other end. In the one night I spent with her while dad was in the hospital, I got a peek into their world and thought "How can this be?" The body is on auto pilot with intake and output. The smell is crippling and yet it was a privilege to clean her up and change her linens. But my body aches for her release from this world.
So many days you look to the heavens and say "Why Jesus?" "Where are you and why let this go on?" We simply have no answers now. Perhaps someday we will. But not now.
So we wait and we remain faithful and we plan for all the scenarios that are ever changing. What if Dad dies first? How do we handle the house and the debt and what happens to mom? These seem like endless conversations. They drain the soul.
So we wait and we remain faithful while we watch the menagerie of birds in my parent's back yard. It is actually amazingly beautiful! 5o turkeys, a dozen squirrels, nut-hatchers, yellow finches, cardinals, red headed woodpeckers, black capped chickadees, and the list goes on.
So much life swirling around so much death.
Come Lord Jesus come.
Now the focus is moving, feeding and cleaning.
My mother actually seems to be shriveling up as her muscles atrophy and her hands curl in. She aspirates quit often because she can barely remember to swallow now. She lost her days and nights awhile ago and though they maintain a clear routine for her, she is either lying in her bed or propped up on the couch. Sleep comes when it wants.
That is all there is now.
She has to have all the food pureed and thickened and spoon fed. And then there is the other end. In the one night I spent with her while dad was in the hospital, I got a peek into their world and thought "How can this be?" The body is on auto pilot with intake and output. The smell is crippling and yet it was a privilege to clean her up and change her linens. But my body aches for her release from this world.
So many days you look to the heavens and say "Why Jesus?" "Where are you and why let this go on?" We simply have no answers now. Perhaps someday we will. But not now.
So we wait and we remain faithful and we plan for all the scenarios that are ever changing. What if Dad dies first? How do we handle the house and the debt and what happens to mom? These seem like endless conversations. They drain the soul.
So we wait and we remain faithful while we watch the menagerie of birds in my parent's back yard. It is actually amazingly beautiful! 5o turkeys, a dozen squirrels, nut-hatchers, yellow finches, cardinals, red headed woodpeckers, black capped chickadees, and the list goes on.
So much life swirling around so much death.
Come Lord Jesus come.
Monday, December 19, 2016
Finding life in the midst of death
Christmas is upon us. In November my mother turned 71 and I asked my Dad to tell her Happy Birthday for me. What else is there now? There is no awareness of anything. Even if she looks at you, she looks through you. I never really understood the power of the eyes to communicate such an array of emotion but when someone looks through you it is heart breaking. So is everything about our current situation.
I recently went home because my father and brother both had heart attacks on the same day. Dad over exerted himself in the snow and my brother's drinking is destroying him from the inside out. But its more than that. The sadness of our seemingly never ending situation has simply taken an immense toll on all of us. Each of us is suffering in a way the others don't fully understand. My father has his own health issues, but the money is starting to run out again too. Each milestone has to be faced with hard decisions. Mom can't move anymore. She is completely dead weight and this takes a huge toll on anyone offering her care. We are very close to the bed ridden stage which becomes an endless chase after bed sores. Our caregiver did such a great job in that area, but one hospital visit and Mom came home with two large sores that just won't heal. It is all so hard to watch and understand Jesus.
During my time at home, I stayed overnight with my Mom while the boys were both in the hospital. She makes no sounds. Her days and nights are completely lost. But my Dad has one request; that she not spend the night in her mess. Food goes in and food goes out now. That's it. She can't even feed herself and she can choke on her own spit at any time. So she is fed with a syringe and everything is pudding like. So when the Lord awoke me in the middle of night I cleaned her mess. I also almost vomited and I also received the blessing of caring for a woman who spent so much of her life trying to care for me. I did it for only one night. My respect for my father and our caregiver is enormous. Very few people are willing to serve at this level even when they are being paid. Thank you.
So how do we find life while living under a shroud of death? We keep living. We cry out to Jesus and accept what He gives us as for our good. There is no understanding now. Perhaps one day there will be but maybe not. We are not trying to put a happy face on it. We are simply asking Jesus to carry us through the valley of the shadow of death. We live by faith not by sight.
This is where my heart is broken for my brother. He does not know God's goodness. He is being crushed under the weight of the shame, guilt and sadness of this horrific situation. I went home to see him in the hospital. I knew my Dad would bounce back and just needed the break. But I can't imagine doing this without Jesus. My brother is constantly in my prayers now a days. I've also encouraged my Dad to not lean on him for help. I've spoken about it before, but you don't just leave the past in a separate space when the end is near. Sometimes, it's all you can think about and it cripples you in the present. I have peace with the past. My brother does not and I don't know how anyone does without Jesus.
We all have limitations. I have 4 kids at home and my daughter was really beat up by her time in Japan. I have been needed at home this fall. I must trust God in a different way. But I can see his mercies in the midst of the tragedy. My dog traveled with me. She is a wonderful companion on my trips. I was able to do several tasks for my Dad that will keep him safer. The birds and moon were simply beautiful in the snowy landscape. These are the gifts of Jesus. They are new every morning and they care for my soul and offer life in midst of death. Lord Jesus teach us all to see you and trust you with our pain.
Come Lord Jesus Come. Please take my mother home soon.
I recently went home because my father and brother both had heart attacks on the same day. Dad over exerted himself in the snow and my brother's drinking is destroying him from the inside out. But its more than that. The sadness of our seemingly never ending situation has simply taken an immense toll on all of us. Each of us is suffering in a way the others don't fully understand. My father has his own health issues, but the money is starting to run out again too. Each milestone has to be faced with hard decisions. Mom can't move anymore. She is completely dead weight and this takes a huge toll on anyone offering her care. We are very close to the bed ridden stage which becomes an endless chase after bed sores. Our caregiver did such a great job in that area, but one hospital visit and Mom came home with two large sores that just won't heal. It is all so hard to watch and understand Jesus.
During my time at home, I stayed overnight with my Mom while the boys were both in the hospital. She makes no sounds. Her days and nights are completely lost. But my Dad has one request; that she not spend the night in her mess. Food goes in and food goes out now. That's it. She can't even feed herself and she can choke on her own spit at any time. So she is fed with a syringe and everything is pudding like. So when the Lord awoke me in the middle of night I cleaned her mess. I also almost vomited and I also received the blessing of caring for a woman who spent so much of her life trying to care for me. I did it for only one night. My respect for my father and our caregiver is enormous. Very few people are willing to serve at this level even when they are being paid. Thank you.
So how do we find life while living under a shroud of death? We keep living. We cry out to Jesus and accept what He gives us as for our good. There is no understanding now. Perhaps one day there will be but maybe not. We are not trying to put a happy face on it. We are simply asking Jesus to carry us through the valley of the shadow of death. We live by faith not by sight.
This is where my heart is broken for my brother. He does not know God's goodness. He is being crushed under the weight of the shame, guilt and sadness of this horrific situation. I went home to see him in the hospital. I knew my Dad would bounce back and just needed the break. But I can't imagine doing this without Jesus. My brother is constantly in my prayers now a days. I've also encouraged my Dad to not lean on him for help. I've spoken about it before, but you don't just leave the past in a separate space when the end is near. Sometimes, it's all you can think about and it cripples you in the present. I have peace with the past. My brother does not and I don't know how anyone does without Jesus.
We all have limitations. I have 4 kids at home and my daughter was really beat up by her time in Japan. I have been needed at home this fall. I must trust God in a different way. But I can see his mercies in the midst of the tragedy. My dog traveled with me. She is a wonderful companion on my trips. I was able to do several tasks for my Dad that will keep him safer. The birds and moon were simply beautiful in the snowy landscape. These are the gifts of Jesus. They are new every morning and they care for my soul and offer life in midst of death. Lord Jesus teach us all to see you and trust you with our pain.
Come Lord Jesus Come. Please take my mother home soon.
Saturday, July 23, 2016
and we wait
My last post was January of 2015 and we are still here. My daughter comes home soon from 15 months overseas and my mother is still with us. There are no words anymore. She can not stand or move. She is largely unaware of people in the room and stares into nothingness day after day.
Now my Dad and our caregivers are trying to keep up with bed sores and UTIs. Why Jesus? What are you doing and why can't she just go home now?
So we wait. I sang to her this morning and stroked her hair. I know she likes that. And I cried. So much sadness and pain.
My son came with me this time and I took my Dad and brother to a Cubs game in Milwaukee last night. Lots of laughs and a good way to celebrate my Dad's birthday.
Jesus has done other things, important things since last January as well. A deep brokenness has been healed and that's all I will say about that, but I am thankful and amazed that God did it while we have been living in the shadow of death. I do not know His ways, but I know He is good and we stand in awe in the midst of our pain.
so we wait. and we cry. and we pray,"Mercy Lord Jesus".
Come Lord Jesus Come.
Now my Dad and our caregivers are trying to keep up with bed sores and UTIs. Why Jesus? What are you doing and why can't she just go home now?
So we wait. I sang to her this morning and stroked her hair. I know she likes that. And I cried. So much sadness and pain.
My son came with me this time and I took my Dad and brother to a Cubs game in Milwaukee last night. Lots of laughs and a good way to celebrate my Dad's birthday.
Jesus has done other things, important things since last January as well. A deep brokenness has been healed and that's all I will say about that, but I am thankful and amazed that God did it while we have been living in the shadow of death. I do not know His ways, but I know He is good and we stand in awe in the midst of our pain.
so we wait. and we cry. and we pray,"Mercy Lord Jesus".
Come Lord Jesus Come.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Praying for death
Is it wrong to pray for death? My mother can barely walk anymore, but she eats well and occasionally you get a word out of her. But largely she sits in a wheel chair and stares off into space. I know that mobility and appetite are the final two signs before death. Her appetite is just fine, but she can fall at any moment, so the wheel chair is important. My Dad needs more help and he is getting it from good people, but you can see the toll the entire thing is taking on him; physically, emotionally, and financially. My prayer is to not lose him before I lose my mother. It can feel selfish, but it's what I want.
I took my girls home for a couple days to say goodbye to their grandmother and celebrate the new year with my Dad. My oldest wept and held my mother's hand and sat next to her over the two days we were in town. She just found a way to make a connection with my mom. It was very beautiful.
My Dad and I updated our end game plan, just in case. That is a difficult reality when walking down the path of Alzheimer's. You need to keep an eye on the future and as the situation takes different turns, make adjustments. What if Dad dies right now? What happens to mom? What do we do with Dad's VA benefits and the house? How do my brother and I work together in a way that doesn't destroy us or create hard feelings? You must be brave enough to keep asking these questions and as time drags on, you must be persistent and yet thoughtful. It is quite the balancing act.
I told my Dad I was praying for death. I don't know how to feel about it, but I want this chapter to end now for many reasons, but partly for my oldest. She is hoping to be oversees this next summer and next year. It will be devastating if my mother dies while she is gone. But I also just want it all to be over now. We are all surrendered to God's timing, but this is my heart's cry. Let us move on and let her go home. I know my Father will be lost for awhile, but maybe not as long as you think. I can feel his weariness. It feels like it's time.
Lord Jesus be with us as we wait on you, but please take her home soon for everyone's sake. Amen.
I took my girls home for a couple days to say goodbye to their grandmother and celebrate the new year with my Dad. My oldest wept and held my mother's hand and sat next to her over the two days we were in town. She just found a way to make a connection with my mom. It was very beautiful.
My Dad and I updated our end game plan, just in case. That is a difficult reality when walking down the path of Alzheimer's. You need to keep an eye on the future and as the situation takes different turns, make adjustments. What if Dad dies right now? What happens to mom? What do we do with Dad's VA benefits and the house? How do my brother and I work together in a way that doesn't destroy us or create hard feelings? You must be brave enough to keep asking these questions and as time drags on, you must be persistent and yet thoughtful. It is quite the balancing act.
I told my Dad I was praying for death. I don't know how to feel about it, but I want this chapter to end now for many reasons, but partly for my oldest. She is hoping to be oversees this next summer and next year. It will be devastating if my mother dies while she is gone. But I also just want it all to be over now. We are all surrendered to God's timing, but this is my heart's cry. Let us move on and let her go home. I know my Father will be lost for awhile, but maybe not as long as you think. I can feel his weariness. It feels like it's time.
Lord Jesus be with us as we wait on you, but please take her home soon for everyone's sake. Amen.
Monday, October 20, 2014
The pace begins to slow
Recently my daughter and I went on a whirlwind tour of Kankakee, IL and then up to my parents house for our shared birthday weekend. (There was a concert by Gungor in Kankakee :) We had a great relaxed day with my Dad and visited Willow Creek community church in Barrington that evening. My daughter had never been to a mega-church and they are definitely the definition of a mega-church. I must say, it was pretty outstanding!
I have often brought home my oldest daughter who has always had a special connection to my mother. My oldest is very outgoing and just seemed to take Alzheimer's in stride as my mother deteriorated. She was also able to offer my mom the physical touch I knew she craved, but I simply could not provide. My mother's touch has always been hard for me. She just seemed to always be attempting to steal something from me when she hugged me. However, since she became vacant, I can hug her now. The feeling of being controlled is gone. In fact when I hug her now I usually tell her it's ok to go home now. I look forward to our time together in heaven and meeting the woman she was created to be.
But my second daughter is me in so many ways. We scare each other sometimes at how much we have in common. So this seemed to be much harder on her heart than my oldest. On this visit, my mother's pace had significantly slowed. She did not wander as much and she had trouble moving from one place to the next. She slept more and we saw no smiles. For me this is just a very slow and painful progression until the end. For my second however, this was abrupt. She was very overwhelmed and slept quite a bit herself. But what do you say? How do you help them? I hugged her and we cried together. What else was there to do? There are no Christian bumper stickers that heal this wound or put a happy face on it.
My pain is one thing, but then you have to manage your kids pain as well. My one hope is they see my love for my family, despite my years of anger and they realize that God changes lives and uses everything in our lives to draw us to himself. Blessings and suffering are used in the same way by God to humble us and care for us. This is very counter culture for us as Americans, even American christians.
Somewhere in here, over the many sad and difficult years, God gave us the gift of suffering. Only now do we see it's beauty.
I have often brought home my oldest daughter who has always had a special connection to my mother. My oldest is very outgoing and just seemed to take Alzheimer's in stride as my mother deteriorated. She was also able to offer my mom the physical touch I knew she craved, but I simply could not provide. My mother's touch has always been hard for me. She just seemed to always be attempting to steal something from me when she hugged me. However, since she became vacant, I can hug her now. The feeling of being controlled is gone. In fact when I hug her now I usually tell her it's ok to go home now. I look forward to our time together in heaven and meeting the woman she was created to be.
But my second daughter is me in so many ways. We scare each other sometimes at how much we have in common. So this seemed to be much harder on her heart than my oldest. On this visit, my mother's pace had significantly slowed. She did not wander as much and she had trouble moving from one place to the next. She slept more and we saw no smiles. For me this is just a very slow and painful progression until the end. For my second however, this was abrupt. She was very overwhelmed and slept quite a bit herself. But what do you say? How do you help them? I hugged her and we cried together. What else was there to do? There are no Christian bumper stickers that heal this wound or put a happy face on it.
My pain is one thing, but then you have to manage your kids pain as well. My one hope is they see my love for my family, despite my years of anger and they realize that God changes lives and uses everything in our lives to draw us to himself. Blessings and suffering are used in the same way by God to humble us and care for us. This is very counter culture for us as Americans, even American christians.
Somewhere in here, over the many sad and difficult years, God gave us the gift of suffering. Only now do we see it's beauty.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
What is death?
When I come to visit now, mom has no idea who I am anymore. It is over. For my last 3 visits, there has not even been a moment when she seems to know who I am. Why does that hurt so much?
We all saw it coming. The literature is very clear that this is how the disease progresses. I can do the emotional math and yet I cannot get my heart to stop yearning. This may be the ultimate pain of a mental disease. They are still alive but you can not gain access to them anymore. Death has to be redefined. She is alive. She is in pretty good health. Our caregivers really enjoy her and she seems to enjoy them. She eats better than I do!
But she wanders. Sometimes she wanders with a little smile on her face like she knows something the rest of us don't and she's not sharing. Other times, she just wanders like she has lost something that will never be found no matter how long she looks. When she sits, she stares off into a place none of us can see. When she looks at me, she is vacant.
So is my mother alive or dead? I have no idea. I can't even define the most basic words of life anymore. I grieve but I'm not sure what for. I miss her even though she is standing right here.
I am, however, thankful that my anger seems to be gone. Somehow without talking to her, I've garnered a greater understanding of what life was probably like for her and why she was the mom she was. It has created a great compassion in me that has pushed out the anger that used to live here. I am grateful for that.
This weekend I came to visit and my Dad was sick. He seemed to start getting better as soon as I walked in the door. Maybe it was the antibiotics, but maybe hope and companionship are really the best medicine.
When I pray, all I have is "jesus". I am completely confused about all of it now, so I just pray "jesus" and hope he will fill in the rest.
I grieve when I come, but it is not without hope anymore. For many years it was just completely overwhelming and now its not so bad and my Dad, brother and I are closer than ever before.
How did God do that? No idea.
We all saw it coming. The literature is very clear that this is how the disease progresses. I can do the emotional math and yet I cannot get my heart to stop yearning. This may be the ultimate pain of a mental disease. They are still alive but you can not gain access to them anymore. Death has to be redefined. She is alive. She is in pretty good health. Our caregivers really enjoy her and she seems to enjoy them. She eats better than I do!
But she wanders. Sometimes she wanders with a little smile on her face like she knows something the rest of us don't and she's not sharing. Other times, she just wanders like she has lost something that will never be found no matter how long she looks. When she sits, she stares off into a place none of us can see. When she looks at me, she is vacant.
So is my mother alive or dead? I have no idea. I can't even define the most basic words of life anymore. I grieve but I'm not sure what for. I miss her even though she is standing right here.
I am, however, thankful that my anger seems to be gone. Somehow without talking to her, I've garnered a greater understanding of what life was probably like for her and why she was the mom she was. It has created a great compassion in me that has pushed out the anger that used to live here. I am grateful for that.
This weekend I came to visit and my Dad was sick. He seemed to start getting better as soon as I walked in the door. Maybe it was the antibiotics, but maybe hope and companionship are really the best medicine.
When I pray, all I have is "jesus". I am completely confused about all of it now, so I just pray "jesus" and hope he will fill in the rest.
I grieve when I come, but it is not without hope anymore. For many years it was just completely overwhelming and now its not so bad and my Dad, brother and I are closer than ever before.
How did God do that? No idea.
Jade
My father lost his dog last month. It was a heart breaking time for all of us. What an amazing dog she was! I really don't know how my father would have gotten through these years of mom's disease without Jade. She brought so much joy to Him as his "big boofer dog" and she ran like clock work in a world of chaos. She had a schedule in her head and she made sure everyone stayed on schedule. Up in the morning, snacks, and bathroom runs were around the same time everyday. No matter what was going on. As mom's memory faded she knew how to coax mom into more snacks as well. She was a true friend and a little fat at the end from all the extra snacks.
But she was also the safe companion my father needed to walk with him through all the madness of Alzhiemers. She never judged my Dad or gave him advice on how to proceed. Surprisingly she was a rather talkative dog in that my Dad supplied a running dialog with her as if he could read her thoughts. I suppose it is how the introverted create company without having to pick up the phone.
I have always had a lot of thoughts about what we need to do or think about for the future or fix about the present. My Dad has been gracious to listen and implement some of those things. But what he has really needed is a travel buddy and Jade did that for him. It was a big loss for him. We all felt it and my brother helped my Dad bury her behind the barn in the cold ground of winter.
As I've kept my eye on the situation at home, I've been looking for signs of depression from my Dad. But amazingly he seems to be doing well. After a dog dies in our family, I always hear the speech about how that was the last dog and how my father's heart couldn't handle another dog. But eventually another dog always shows up. So far no dog and Dad seems to be doing ok and spring is almost here. So I don't know if Dad is just in a better place or Jade just did her job really well, but we are all beginning to feel hope again. It feels like sunshine.
But she was also the safe companion my father needed to walk with him through all the madness of Alzhiemers. She never judged my Dad or gave him advice on how to proceed. Surprisingly she was a rather talkative dog in that my Dad supplied a running dialog with her as if he could read her thoughts. I suppose it is how the introverted create company without having to pick up the phone.
I have always had a lot of thoughts about what we need to do or think about for the future or fix about the present. My Dad has been gracious to listen and implement some of those things. But what he has really needed is a travel buddy and Jade did that for him. It was a big loss for him. We all felt it and my brother helped my Dad bury her behind the barn in the cold ground of winter.
As I've kept my eye on the situation at home, I've been looking for signs of depression from my Dad. But amazingly he seems to be doing well. After a dog dies in our family, I always hear the speech about how that was the last dog and how my father's heart couldn't handle another dog. But eventually another dog always shows up. So far no dog and Dad seems to be doing ok and spring is almost here. So I don't know if Dad is just in a better place or Jade just did her job really well, but we are all beginning to feel hope again. It feels like sunshine.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
An ever changing reality
I'm getting ready to head back home after spending the labor day weekend here with my folks. Thankfully, my brother has been in and out which always adds laughter to this sad house. My father continues to amaze me and is always so thankful for my just being here. It relieves his stress level just to have me around. I honestly feel like I do nothing here. My dad loves to cook for me when I come and on this trip I was nursing a foot injury so I needed to just chill.
But I feel such an overwhelming blanket of sorrow when I am here. My mother has moments when she looks at me and tells me she loves me, but then she disappears again. She tried to eat a stapler at dinner the other night. It feels just like raising my toddlers so many years ago, but with no joy. When a child learns you rejoice with them, but this is so painful to watch. Her days are full of just wandering around.
My father needs daily help now and he is committed to getting continual help. It is a strange relationship with caregivers. They become like family and you need to trust them, but you are also their employer. It makes for a complicated relationship. My main concern now for my dad is his skin condition. He is wearing his stress, but he keeps looking to God to just help him here and now. My dad is truly modeling the verse "Do not worry about tomorrow for today has enough trouble of its own."
One genius move on my Dad's part has been to buy a new golf cart. It is really nice and my mom loves to ride in it. It also helps my dad look for her quickly when she wanders away. I rode her around in the cool fall air for 2 hours yesterday. I just started talking about my life and occasionally she had a reaction. It really wasn't too bad. There is never complete clarity, but the fog clears enough for some sort of connection for just a moment. I do not expect those moments anymore, but they still come once in awhile.
But every morning the house smells like pee and poop. She has lost most all control of that area. When my kids were little, I often walked in to greet them with the same smell in the air and it did not gross me out as their mother. I often spoke tenderly to my kids and was even proud of their big diapers. But turn that around with a daughter to a mother and something in my heart is crushed with sadness. I keep telling myself to move on and let it go, but I feel so stuck. That is not a helpful thought and it only causes me to feel worse about feeling bad.
Perhaps this is just my weakness. I move slowly through pain. I need more time to grieve and entrust things to God than others. I can see other areas of my life where this is true. I think people call this Grace. Giving myself grace to just be here and not demand I be somewhere else now. No one is driving me but me. Everyone I know has nothing but compassion for me and my family. Alzheimers is so cruel.
Every day is different for my Dad. Mom had some anger the other day with a caregiver and her sleep has been spotty, but as soon as a pattern emerges, it changes. I still don't really even know how to pray, other than "Jesus". I don't have a clue what is best anymore. Perhaps I never really did.
So come Lord Jesus come and fill up this place. Hold my hand for I am sad and overwhelmed today.
But I feel such an overwhelming blanket of sorrow when I am here. My mother has moments when she looks at me and tells me she loves me, but then she disappears again. She tried to eat a stapler at dinner the other night. It feels just like raising my toddlers so many years ago, but with no joy. When a child learns you rejoice with them, but this is so painful to watch. Her days are full of just wandering around.
My father needs daily help now and he is committed to getting continual help. It is a strange relationship with caregivers. They become like family and you need to trust them, but you are also their employer. It makes for a complicated relationship. My main concern now for my dad is his skin condition. He is wearing his stress, but he keeps looking to God to just help him here and now. My dad is truly modeling the verse "Do not worry about tomorrow for today has enough trouble of its own."
One genius move on my Dad's part has been to buy a new golf cart. It is really nice and my mom loves to ride in it. It also helps my dad look for her quickly when she wanders away. I rode her around in the cool fall air for 2 hours yesterday. I just started talking about my life and occasionally she had a reaction. It really wasn't too bad. There is never complete clarity, but the fog clears enough for some sort of connection for just a moment. I do not expect those moments anymore, but they still come once in awhile.
But every morning the house smells like pee and poop. She has lost most all control of that area. When my kids were little, I often walked in to greet them with the same smell in the air and it did not gross me out as their mother. I often spoke tenderly to my kids and was even proud of their big diapers. But turn that around with a daughter to a mother and something in my heart is crushed with sadness. I keep telling myself to move on and let it go, but I feel so stuck. That is not a helpful thought and it only causes me to feel worse about feeling bad.
Perhaps this is just my weakness. I move slowly through pain. I need more time to grieve and entrust things to God than others. I can see other areas of my life where this is true. I think people call this Grace. Giving myself grace to just be here and not demand I be somewhere else now. No one is driving me but me. Everyone I know has nothing but compassion for me and my family. Alzheimers is so cruel.
Every day is different for my Dad. Mom had some anger the other day with a caregiver and her sleep has been spotty, but as soon as a pattern emerges, it changes. I still don't really even know how to pray, other than "Jesus". I don't have a clue what is best anymore. Perhaps I never really did.
So come Lord Jesus come and fill up this place. Hold my hand for I am sad and overwhelmed today.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day without a Mother
My mom is still alive, but I have no mother. There was no one to call today or send a card to because she doesn't know what a phone or card is anymore. So on one hand I enjoyed the acts of service my children did for me today, but I may have enjoyed just laying in bed watching TV with my husband more. I did not have much energy today, but I didn't want to be alone either.
Grieving for the dead while they are still alive is hard on a heart. There aren't as many tears anymore, but it's easy to just avoid calling home too. Out of sight, out of mine is not entirely true but it helps.
I suppose there are millions of women that live in this reality. Several of my friends have lost children and mothers, so Mother's Day is always bittersweet at best. I know the intention of the day is to honor mom's because we do so much behind the scenes. (Oh, that is so true!) But there is this whole other group of women who have a mother and yet the relationship is broken. A friend of mine years ago suggested that Hallmark begin a collection of cards that actually tell the truth about many parent/child relationships. Cards that say "Nice try, but I will take it from here." or "I'm really hoping to be able to say I love you before you die." I'm not sure they would sell, but they would validate the broken hearts of millions of people.
However, I am extremely grateful for the years of healing that has allowed me to show kindness to my mother now. I still have limitations, but I am amazed how much love is in my heart for my mom. I did not believe that would ever happen and yet God has done it. I think he enjoys the challenge of fixing the impossible. For many years that is what it felt like. Impossible.
But this poses a different challenge. Grief with no closure. I can think of a number of situations that would generate the same feelings. The abduction of a child or the death of soldier without ever reclaiming the body might feel like endless grief. Our grief, however, will end at some point. We just don't know when or how. It is a terrible feeling that weighs on your heart and consumes your energy without even realizing it.
In the meantime, we are all starting to think about life after Alzheimer's. My father's health is always a bit on the edge. But I can hear it in his voice. He is turning the corner and starting to look around him at what comes next. Honestly, I am afraid to do that yet. "Hope deferred makes the heart grow sick." Alzheimer's seems like a recipe for a sick heart.
The other day, I asked some friends of mine to pray my mother would die soon. It felt freeing and terrible all at the same time. A couple of days later, I called home and my Dad said my Mom kept leaving the house and running into the street. I don't even know what that feeling is. It's probably a long list of feelings that all add up to overwhelming. But who does not feel overwhelmed by Alzheimer's?
So today is mother's day. If I look behind me, I am sad and hopeless thinking about my mother's prison, but if I look in front of me, I am proud and hopeful for the amazing kids I see before me.
Lord Jesus help me live in the balance but please bring peace to my mother soon. Amen
Grieving for the dead while they are still alive is hard on a heart. There aren't as many tears anymore, but it's easy to just avoid calling home too. Out of sight, out of mine is not entirely true but it helps.
I suppose there are millions of women that live in this reality. Several of my friends have lost children and mothers, so Mother's Day is always bittersweet at best. I know the intention of the day is to honor mom's because we do so much behind the scenes. (Oh, that is so true!) But there is this whole other group of women who have a mother and yet the relationship is broken. A friend of mine years ago suggested that Hallmark begin a collection of cards that actually tell the truth about many parent/child relationships. Cards that say "Nice try, but I will take it from here." or "I'm really hoping to be able to say I love you before you die." I'm not sure they would sell, but they would validate the broken hearts of millions of people.
However, I am extremely grateful for the years of healing that has allowed me to show kindness to my mother now. I still have limitations, but I am amazed how much love is in my heart for my mom. I did not believe that would ever happen and yet God has done it. I think he enjoys the challenge of fixing the impossible. For many years that is what it felt like. Impossible.
But this poses a different challenge. Grief with no closure. I can think of a number of situations that would generate the same feelings. The abduction of a child or the death of soldier without ever reclaiming the body might feel like endless grief. Our grief, however, will end at some point. We just don't know when or how. It is a terrible feeling that weighs on your heart and consumes your energy without even realizing it.
In the meantime, we are all starting to think about life after Alzheimer's. My father's health is always a bit on the edge. But I can hear it in his voice. He is turning the corner and starting to look around him at what comes next. Honestly, I am afraid to do that yet. "Hope deferred makes the heart grow sick." Alzheimer's seems like a recipe for a sick heart.
The other day, I asked some friends of mine to pray my mother would die soon. It felt freeing and terrible all at the same time. A couple of days later, I called home and my Dad said my Mom kept leaving the house and running into the street. I don't even know what that feeling is. It's probably a long list of feelings that all add up to overwhelming. But who does not feel overwhelmed by Alzheimer's?
So today is mother's day. If I look behind me, I am sad and hopeless thinking about my mother's prison, but if I look in front of me, I am proud and hopeful for the amazing kids I see before me.
Lord Jesus help me live in the balance but please bring peace to my mother soon. Amen
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Beautiful, broken love
This week my brother got out of jail. It was a good day.
For some, a 3 month stint in county lock up is really not that big of a deal. But you should have seen him before he went in. He was scared. He was scared my mom might die while he was in. He was scared he might do something stupid and turn 3 months into a year or worse and he was scared that no one would be around to make my dad laugh. I love that about my brother. He is a really funny guy, but it's humor that has attempted to guard a tender heart.
This week my father gave us a large sum of money to help us out of a financial crisis we made with our own hands. That would have been enough of a blessing in itself, but he did it with tremendous grace and kindness. It reminded me of Jesus talking to the woman caught in adultery. He does not condemn her, but rather he protects her from the angry mob and yet encourages her to go and sin no more. As John 1:14 says, Jesus was full of grace and truth. My father did that for us this week and the blessing of his words and deeds may have healed a part of my husband's heart that few people will ever even see.
It was a good week.
And all the while, my mother wanders our home lost in some far away world. She can't sit still for more than a few minutes before she is up again moving things from here to there or trying to eat a styrofoam cup. Oh how we all long for peace to come for her. The helplessness is so overwhelming at times. And yet, both my brother and I sit in awe of my father. Not just for his patience, endurance and faithfulness but for how this is transforming him into a new man: a good, kind, thoughtful man with a generous heart.
Somehow in the midst of this intense sadness, we are all being transformed for good. I have no idea how God is doing it, but the evidence is all around me.
I heard a teacher say recently that suffering gives us a platform for influence. I've thought about it many times. I suppose that does not assume it will always be a positive influence, but I certainly can see biblical examples of the transforming power of suffering in God's word. Joseph comes to mind for most people. He was a talented, gifted, arrogant and probably spoiled kid, but after many years of unjust suffering, God transformed him into a talented, gifted and humble man who literally saves the nation of Israel along with Egypt. Nelson Mandela's story is very similar.
I don't know what God has waiting for all of us in my family. My father says he lives day to day because that is all he can do. He considers each day a gift. But no matter how this plays out, I am so thankful for the richness of our relationships right now, despite the pain.
Given the choice, I would never have agreed to this plan. Alzheimer's completely sucks. Our hardest moments of the journey so far have been when my mom would just start cowering, for any number of reasons, and say to us "Are you going to throw me away?" What the hell happened to that woman as a child? What did they do to her? It would make us all crazy with anger and rage at the invisible perpetrators and our sense of powerlessness would go that much deeper. But here we sit, with no clear end in site, having endured a very intense war, where we lost one but found the 3 of us.
I did know my mother well enough to know that she would have been willing to endure this if only for our sake. At some level we all live selfish lives, some more than others, but in her own way she did attempt to love us.
One night many years ago, I challenged my mother in front of my father, as to why she would not take care of herself. Her cholesterol was insane and her diabetes was not being treated and she would not slow down enough to do anything about them. After pressing her a couple of times, she finally admitted that there was not enough money for both my mom and dad to retire, so she planned on dying first and letting him have the retirement money. My father and I sat there stunned. We both tried to speak to that lie, but we did not sway her and she has carried out her plan. But that was my mother's way of loving us. That was so messed up on so many levels, but behind it all, was love.
It's not the way I intend to love my kids and it's a severely broken form of love, but I can still call it love. And even in all its messiness and brokenness, God has used it for good. Sounds a little like Joseph doesn't it?
So I sit in awe of God somedays. And somedays I weep over watching the woman I call mom slowly disintegrate. Other days are filled with laughter and joy as my father and brother and I enjoy each other just because we are enjoyable people. I don't know when that happened. I don't know when I became enjoyable and when I started really enjoying my family, but I like it. Those are good days.
And perhaps there are many good days ahead of us. But hope can feel like jumping off a cliff when all you've ever done is survive. So this week, I will spend time with Jesus in the Smoky Mountains and meditate on God's tenderness and kindness and try to make some room in my life for hope.
Perhaps this will be a good week too.
For some, a 3 month stint in county lock up is really not that big of a deal. But you should have seen him before he went in. He was scared. He was scared my mom might die while he was in. He was scared he might do something stupid and turn 3 months into a year or worse and he was scared that no one would be around to make my dad laugh. I love that about my brother. He is a really funny guy, but it's humor that has attempted to guard a tender heart.
This week my father gave us a large sum of money to help us out of a financial crisis we made with our own hands. That would have been enough of a blessing in itself, but he did it with tremendous grace and kindness. It reminded me of Jesus talking to the woman caught in adultery. He does not condemn her, but rather he protects her from the angry mob and yet encourages her to go and sin no more. As John 1:14 says, Jesus was full of grace and truth. My father did that for us this week and the blessing of his words and deeds may have healed a part of my husband's heart that few people will ever even see.
It was a good week.
And all the while, my mother wanders our home lost in some far away world. She can't sit still for more than a few minutes before she is up again moving things from here to there or trying to eat a styrofoam cup. Oh how we all long for peace to come for her. The helplessness is so overwhelming at times. And yet, both my brother and I sit in awe of my father. Not just for his patience, endurance and faithfulness but for how this is transforming him into a new man: a good, kind, thoughtful man with a generous heart.
Somehow in the midst of this intense sadness, we are all being transformed for good. I have no idea how God is doing it, but the evidence is all around me.
I heard a teacher say recently that suffering gives us a platform for influence. I've thought about it many times. I suppose that does not assume it will always be a positive influence, but I certainly can see biblical examples of the transforming power of suffering in God's word. Joseph comes to mind for most people. He was a talented, gifted, arrogant and probably spoiled kid, but after many years of unjust suffering, God transformed him into a talented, gifted and humble man who literally saves the nation of Israel along with Egypt. Nelson Mandela's story is very similar.
I don't know what God has waiting for all of us in my family. My father says he lives day to day because that is all he can do. He considers each day a gift. But no matter how this plays out, I am so thankful for the richness of our relationships right now, despite the pain.
Given the choice, I would never have agreed to this plan. Alzheimer's completely sucks. Our hardest moments of the journey so far have been when my mom would just start cowering, for any number of reasons, and say to us "Are you going to throw me away?" What the hell happened to that woman as a child? What did they do to her? It would make us all crazy with anger and rage at the invisible perpetrators and our sense of powerlessness would go that much deeper. But here we sit, with no clear end in site, having endured a very intense war, where we lost one but found the 3 of us.
I did know my mother well enough to know that she would have been willing to endure this if only for our sake. At some level we all live selfish lives, some more than others, but in her own way she did attempt to love us.
One night many years ago, I challenged my mother in front of my father, as to why she would not take care of herself. Her cholesterol was insane and her diabetes was not being treated and she would not slow down enough to do anything about them. After pressing her a couple of times, she finally admitted that there was not enough money for both my mom and dad to retire, so she planned on dying first and letting him have the retirement money. My father and I sat there stunned. We both tried to speak to that lie, but we did not sway her and she has carried out her plan. But that was my mother's way of loving us. That was so messed up on so many levels, but behind it all, was love.
It's not the way I intend to love my kids and it's a severely broken form of love, but I can still call it love. And even in all its messiness and brokenness, God has used it for good. Sounds a little like Joseph doesn't it?
So I sit in awe of God somedays. And somedays I weep over watching the woman I call mom slowly disintegrate. Other days are filled with laughter and joy as my father and brother and I enjoy each other just because we are enjoyable people. I don't know when that happened. I don't know when I became enjoyable and when I started really enjoying my family, but I like it. Those are good days.
And perhaps there are many good days ahead of us. But hope can feel like jumping off a cliff when all you've ever done is survive. So this week, I will spend time with Jesus in the Smoky Mountains and meditate on God's tenderness and kindness and try to make some room in my life for hope.
Perhaps this will be a good week too.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Updates
I've started to hate the question "How is your mom?" I know it's usually asked with a compassionate heart that desires to come along side me in my pain. Occasionally, I do get the question from someone who is just looking for information and I am surprised and convicted by how bad that feels. I know I've done it to others, so I try not to be harsh, but I also don't feel the need to always answer their question. Sometimes, I even just steer clear of those folks, because it only adds to my pain. Thankfully, I've given myself permission to do that now.
But how do you answer this question when the answer is always going to be "Bad." My mother is doing bad. She is dying. She may die soon or she may linger on in this ghostly state for years. But she is not well nor is she ever going to be well again. So I am debating asking my friends to just not ask me anymore. To trust me that I will bring it up if I need to talk but that the question just hurts now and the answer will not change anymore.
I know they ask because they care, but can caring look like not asking? Just be with me now. I'm so tired of talking. Just sit in this room and be with me. There's nothing else to figure out. Just wait with me so I don't have to wait alone. That's really all my heart needs right now.
But how do you answer this question when the answer is always going to be "Bad." My mother is doing bad. She is dying. She may die soon or she may linger on in this ghostly state for years. But she is not well nor is she ever going to be well again. So I am debating asking my friends to just not ask me anymore. To trust me that I will bring it up if I need to talk but that the question just hurts now and the answer will not change anymore.
I know they ask because they care, but can caring look like not asking? Just be with me now. I'm so tired of talking. Just sit in this room and be with me. There's nothing else to figure out. Just wait with me so I don't have to wait alone. That's really all my heart needs right now.
Life Lessons
I sent my parents an edible flower arrangement for Easter this year. It seemed like a good idea because my mom eats a lot of fruit and as much as I love flowers, I am still a pretty practical person. My Dad said they both loved them. He appreciated it and she ate them.
But that is one of the tolls this takes on you. When a person disappears into this disease, they can't express appreciation anymore. They are a ghost that walks amongst us and when it's someone so close to you, you are constantly reminded that your service needs to be for the Lord and not to be thanked. That is really hard for me. I like to be thanked. I struggle with feeling unappreciated. But I also see that when I am thanked, I don't really let it sink in, so it's like dying of thirst while people are offering you things to drink.
I see the lessons from the Lord all the time as I wander through this season of life. Perhaps everyone hits this place where life starts to slow down some and you wake up to this deeper narrative that's been going on the entire time without you realizing it.
I am very present. I am not a ghost like my mother and yet I withhold praise from the people around me even when I know they desperately need it. Less than a year ago, my mother would endlessly praise me for my kids, my voice, by parenting, whatever. It went on and on because she would not remember one comment to the next what she just said. I have to admit, it felt good. I don't remember much praise when I was little. In fact I remember a lot of criticism. I am painfully aware of maintaining a good balance of input and praise with my own kids because I know the pain of an over-critical home.
But what about all the other people in my life? I praise my father all the time. I am so in awe of what he is doing and the attitude he does it with is even more impressive. But what about my husband? I have high expectations for him and that can spur him on or beat him down depending on how I approach it. Of course at the end of the day, he makes his own decisions but I know I am not irrelevant to the picture. I am his wife, no one else. He has the same opportunity with me. My hope is that we are slowly moving in the right direction of doing a better job caring for each other.
So this is one area for me that has emerged in watching and experiencing Alzheimer's ravage our lives. I am continually amazed at how God uses everything. How can he break my heart and mend it at the same time? I suppose that's what makes Him God and me just me.
I will listen today for your voice Jesus. I believe you are always doing me good even when I may not be able to see it or feel it. Increase my faith and hold me near and please be merciful to my mom.
But that is one of the tolls this takes on you. When a person disappears into this disease, they can't express appreciation anymore. They are a ghost that walks amongst us and when it's someone so close to you, you are constantly reminded that your service needs to be for the Lord and not to be thanked. That is really hard for me. I like to be thanked. I struggle with feeling unappreciated. But I also see that when I am thanked, I don't really let it sink in, so it's like dying of thirst while people are offering you things to drink.
I see the lessons from the Lord all the time as I wander through this season of life. Perhaps everyone hits this place where life starts to slow down some and you wake up to this deeper narrative that's been going on the entire time without you realizing it.
I am very present. I am not a ghost like my mother and yet I withhold praise from the people around me even when I know they desperately need it. Less than a year ago, my mother would endlessly praise me for my kids, my voice, by parenting, whatever. It went on and on because she would not remember one comment to the next what she just said. I have to admit, it felt good. I don't remember much praise when I was little. In fact I remember a lot of criticism. I am painfully aware of maintaining a good balance of input and praise with my own kids because I know the pain of an over-critical home.
But what about all the other people in my life? I praise my father all the time. I am so in awe of what he is doing and the attitude he does it with is even more impressive. But what about my husband? I have high expectations for him and that can spur him on or beat him down depending on how I approach it. Of course at the end of the day, he makes his own decisions but I know I am not irrelevant to the picture. I am his wife, no one else. He has the same opportunity with me. My hope is that we are slowly moving in the right direction of doing a better job caring for each other.
So this is one area for me that has emerged in watching and experiencing Alzheimer's ravage our lives. I am continually amazed at how God uses everything. How can he break my heart and mend it at the same time? I suppose that's what makes Him God and me just me.
I will listen today for your voice Jesus. I believe you are always doing me good even when I may not be able to see it or feel it. Increase my faith and hold me near and please be merciful to my mom.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Waiting on the Lord
I told someone the other day I was going home to see my Dad and visit my brother in jail. I didn't really notice that I had omitted my Mother from the picture. But the truth is she is gone. She has extremely brief moments of some level of joy but 95% of life now is just wandering the house moving things around like a curious 2 year old but absent of understanding. She can't use utensils or the bathroom or really even understand what you are saying. You have to physically move her by taking her hand and all of it hurts your heart.
She fell twice yesterday. It's so unsettling to watch a grown woman fall down. But it feels like "pick your poison" to watch her just wander aimlessly as well. Some days she eats other days not so much.
I always believed my Dad could be a hero if he just tried. Now I see it and he is my hero. Somehow he believes this is the most important thing he can do with his life. I am continually amazed at his patience and kindness to my mother. This is pretty much all he can do. It takes up most all of his time. But he is asking for help because he is also starting to realize the toll the stress is taking on his health. How do you have time to grieve the loss of someone you are also caring for? I can't really see that part of my dad so I am encouraging him to pursue a support group to at least start the process.
It's so beyond us. We don't even know what to pray other than "Lord please have mercy." I don't even pretend to know what mercy looks like anymore.
I see God's blessings all around us and know we are in his hands. Little things like the 8 cardinals, 2 dozen full size turkeys and endless little sparrows and squirrels that visit my father's bird feeders in the fresh blanket of snow. It's just beautiful and right outside the window of this house of tragedy. There are several people involved and each offer's a different kindness. We are not alone in this and yet you are in your deep heart.
I keep asking myself, "Why is it so hard?". All I have is it is hard because it is hard. I hate that answer, but it's probably accurate. But life continues. Children need help with homework and rides and have meetings to attend and need your attention and care too. You still need to go to work, love your husband, feed the dog, go shopping and clean the house.
But today I will just soak in God's word and listen to the same song probably about 100 times (literally) that will remind me of God's faithfulness and care for my heart and encourage me to be still and wait patiently upon the Lord.
She fell twice yesterday. It's so unsettling to watch a grown woman fall down. But it feels like "pick your poison" to watch her just wander aimlessly as well. Some days she eats other days not so much.
I always believed my Dad could be a hero if he just tried. Now I see it and he is my hero. Somehow he believes this is the most important thing he can do with his life. I am continually amazed at his patience and kindness to my mother. This is pretty much all he can do. It takes up most all of his time. But he is asking for help because he is also starting to realize the toll the stress is taking on his health. How do you have time to grieve the loss of someone you are also caring for? I can't really see that part of my dad so I am encouraging him to pursue a support group to at least start the process.
It's so beyond us. We don't even know what to pray other than "Lord please have mercy." I don't even pretend to know what mercy looks like anymore.
I see God's blessings all around us and know we are in his hands. Little things like the 8 cardinals, 2 dozen full size turkeys and endless little sparrows and squirrels that visit my father's bird feeders in the fresh blanket of snow. It's just beautiful and right outside the window of this house of tragedy. There are several people involved and each offer's a different kindness. We are not alone in this and yet you are in your deep heart.
I keep asking myself, "Why is it so hard?". All I have is it is hard because it is hard. I hate that answer, but it's probably accurate. But life continues. Children need help with homework and rides and have meetings to attend and need your attention and care too. You still need to go to work, love your husband, feed the dog, go shopping and clean the house.
But today I will just soak in God's word and listen to the same song probably about 100 times (literally) that will remind me of God's faithfulness and care for my heart and encourage me to be still and wait patiently upon the Lord.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Planning a funeral for the living
Yesterday, my father and brother and I planned my mother's funeral as she sat in the other room with my daughter. Her mind is far away and she has lost most everything accept the ability to sleep. Praise God for that gift. She really has no idea who we are, but she is not afraid of us, so she must believe we are kind and that she is safe.
But this was the first time she had no response to me walking in the door. I had tried to prepare my heart for it, but how do you even do that? Amazingly, my daughter can still make her smile. The pride and thankfulness in my heart towards my daughter is overwhelming to me. She needed 7 hours of K-Pop videos to wind down, but I really don't care. We all have our ways of coping.
I sang to my mother in tears yesterday. She seemed to enjoy it even though my voice was weak much of the time. Early this morning, while she slept, I thanked her for trying to love me despite her brokenness and I asked her to forgive me for my many years of anger. The Lord spoke on her behalf and said it was ok.
There is not much time left now though I am sure it will feel like forever as we wait for the end. This morning my father helped her to the bathroom and even though the dogs were eager to go out, they both just sat down and waited patiently for my father to finish with my mom. I wonder if they understand what's happening here better than we do.
Somehow in the midst of it all, my father and brother and I have laughed a lot. Scott and I even had a show down over our Dad's favorite candy bar. We went to the store and got a few things including two candy bars that we both were convinced our Dad loved more than the other one. So we set them on the table with a note: "Which one is your favorite?" I lost. I am sure Scott will remind me of that for many years to come. Somehow in the midst of it all, there is still some joy.
So I cry and I write and I wait. But my heart is blessed just watching my father care from my mother. There is no way I would have ever chosen this path, but I see God's hand in it and in the midst of my sorrow, I can be thankful and even find peace.
Thank you Jesus
But this was the first time she had no response to me walking in the door. I had tried to prepare my heart for it, but how do you even do that? Amazingly, my daughter can still make her smile. The pride and thankfulness in my heart towards my daughter is overwhelming to me. She needed 7 hours of K-Pop videos to wind down, but I really don't care. We all have our ways of coping.
I sang to my mother in tears yesterday. She seemed to enjoy it even though my voice was weak much of the time. Early this morning, while she slept, I thanked her for trying to love me despite her brokenness and I asked her to forgive me for my many years of anger. The Lord spoke on her behalf and said it was ok.
There is not much time left now though I am sure it will feel like forever as we wait for the end. This morning my father helped her to the bathroom and even though the dogs were eager to go out, they both just sat down and waited patiently for my father to finish with my mom. I wonder if they understand what's happening here better than we do.
Somehow in the midst of it all, my father and brother and I have laughed a lot. Scott and I even had a show down over our Dad's favorite candy bar. We went to the store and got a few things including two candy bars that we both were convinced our Dad loved more than the other one. So we set them on the table with a note: "Which one is your favorite?" I lost. I am sure Scott will remind me of that for many years to come. Somehow in the midst of it all, there is still some joy.
So I cry and I write and I wait. But my heart is blessed just watching my father care from my mother. There is no way I would have ever chosen this path, but I see God's hand in it and in the midst of my sorrow, I can be thankful and even find peace.
Thank you Jesus
Monday, January 14, 2013
The Home Stretch... Maybe
My mom fell last week and hurt herself badly. The harder part was that my Dad found her semi-unconcious with blood coming from her mouth and nose. He had to call the ambulance and take her to the ER. She only spent a couple days in the hospital, but the time leading up to and since coming home have set a tone that we may be in the home stretch.
She doesn't really eat or drink much now. She is always tired and she can't really hold a conversation with you. The Hospice people are involved now and they haven't given her much time left unless things change. The Hospice people, God's angels of mercy on earth, tend to know their stuff.
So I cried tonight for her and begged God not to let it all happen while Scott is in jail. That will wound his heart deeply. I listened to Danny boy to help me grieve and I spent some time on a funeral check list website.
I've never understood our culture's goodbye process. At a time when all you want to do is nothing, you have to do everything. You have to figure out the details, tell everyone and then help them grieve when it seems like the thing you need most is to grieve yourself. Yes, it feels good to hear so many good words from others about your loved one, but why is it our job to help them grieve? I've been to several funerals and even took on the title of the "the funeral singer" for a time, but I've never actually planned one. So perhaps I am way off on this. We shall see.
My Father said it well tonight when we talked. "You don't want to see them go, but you can't watch them suffer anymore either." I don't even know the range of feeling words to capture that statement. But there is a long list of them.
So tonight, I believe in heaven not because I read it in a book, but because I want to believe that a good God has created a beautiful place for my mother to rest. No more sorrow, no more pain. A place where we will meet again and we will know each other fully in ways this life would not allow us to enjoy. A place where the love she has wandered the planet looking for, will finally be found and will be completely hers. A home with Jesus.
If none of it is actually true, I would rather just die deceived than to live in a different reality. I have wrestled with my doubt long enough to know that none of us will ever know with absolute certainty anything. Jesus is enough for me. He said it. He died for it. I believe it.
Come Jesus Come.
She doesn't really eat or drink much now. She is always tired and she can't really hold a conversation with you. The Hospice people are involved now and they haven't given her much time left unless things change. The Hospice people, God's angels of mercy on earth, tend to know their stuff.
So I cried tonight for her and begged God not to let it all happen while Scott is in jail. That will wound his heart deeply. I listened to Danny boy to help me grieve and I spent some time on a funeral check list website.
I've never understood our culture's goodbye process. At a time when all you want to do is nothing, you have to do everything. You have to figure out the details, tell everyone and then help them grieve when it seems like the thing you need most is to grieve yourself. Yes, it feels good to hear so many good words from others about your loved one, but why is it our job to help them grieve? I've been to several funerals and even took on the title of the "the funeral singer" for a time, but I've never actually planned one. So perhaps I am way off on this. We shall see.
My Father said it well tonight when we talked. "You don't want to see them go, but you can't watch them suffer anymore either." I don't even know the range of feeling words to capture that statement. But there is a long list of them.
So tonight, I believe in heaven not because I read it in a book, but because I want to believe that a good God has created a beautiful place for my mother to rest. No more sorrow, no more pain. A place where we will meet again and we will know each other fully in ways this life would not allow us to enjoy. A place where the love she has wandered the planet looking for, will finally be found and will be completely hers. A home with Jesus.
If none of it is actually true, I would rather just die deceived than to live in a different reality. I have wrestled with my doubt long enough to know that none of us will ever know with absolute certainty anything. Jesus is enough for me. He said it. He died for it. I believe it.
Come Jesus Come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)