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.
Monday, April 1, 2013
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.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
The Exchange Rate
I have a friend who is really good at making things. He is a more than a builder. He is an artist with materials. He is always thinking outside the box and not only makes some really cool stuff, he adds an inventor's heart to the final product. I am continually amazed at what he creates.
We were talking the other day and he said that he has finally figured out his ideal to reality exchange rate. If he thinks a project will ideally take 2 hours, he times it by 2.5 and that is how long the project will really take. He says its been really helpful because then he can offer more realistic expectations to his wife and himself.
I think everyone should figure out their exchange rate in multiple areas of their lives. This would really help us give ourselves grace but also foster communication and unity.
I wonder what my exchange rate is on home projects? I would guess it is pretty low. Maybe 1.5. I have a pretty realistic understanding of what a project will take, but no one can anticipate all the little things, like needing a part or not having the right tool, or your kids using the thing you need as a prop in their latest video production. But I really enjoy projects and tend to be able to approach them with realistic expectations.
But what if I have to work with someone else? Recently I had my kids empty out a bookshelf that my husband and I built together shortly after getting married. It is now empty but we are torn on what to do with it because it is a reminder of two things: First that my husband and I are very different and should not try to build things together, but also that if we do step out together and attempt a project, we might create something that we still own 21 years later. So what do we do? I want to burn it. My husband, however, wants to put in the garage and think about it. More on that another time.
But I also wonder what my exchange rate is for:
growing in intimacy with my God?
caring for my kid's hearts?
letting my husband love me?
letting go of my past?
grieving?
Recently, I have begun to feel the weight of grieving lift from my shoulders. I don't really know why it is lifting, it just seems to be lifting. I recently applied for a job; part-time but still much more than I've done for many years. I am also hoping to pursue grad school at Moody in 2013. But it also feels like I have been carrying a mantle of deep sadness for a year and half. It's bigger than just my mom, but perhaps this is another difficult part of Alzheimers. You grieve before they die. I guess I am assuming you grieve after they die too, but I bet it will be really different from what I've been doing this last year and half.
I see my Dad turning a corner too. He recently bought a brand new car. I don't think we have ever had a brand new car. He got a red one, because mom always wanted a new red car. The added bonus is that he gets to surprise her with it everyday. It's the gift that just keeps giving! She is sleeping a lot more now and speaking less. She forgets all of us now at times and is in and out. I can feel my Dad's loneliness when we talk. I admire his faith but I know he needs companionship too. I have asked God to bring people into his life that will just talk to him and enjoy him.
But we know the end is near though we don't really even now what the end is in this case. Even still, my father and brother and I have become so close and God has ushered in so much healing for all of us. We were such an angry house growing up. I know God gets an amazing amount of Glory given all He has done to help us overcome all the pain we have inflicted on each other over the years. But here we stand; loving each other and feeling loved amidst the wreckage of my mother's life. We are eager for her to just be with Jesus now and enter into her peace. No more sorrow. No more pain.
So my exchange rate for grieving has been about a year and half. Never saw that coming. Really thought I could do it over a weekend.. It has taken me 15 years to forgive my mother. You have got to be kidding! Gave myself a couple years for that one. I am not even going to answer the other 3. I suppose the bottom line is the exchange rate is however long it takes. Period. God just simply is in no rush. We are in a rush. I am in a rush. God, however, is not. He will take as long as it takes. I believe that is called faithfulness.
"He who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it." Phil 1:6
I have tried to think more about eternity in recent days. We are eternal beings. We will live for eternity. So who cares about 15 years in light of eternity? Our God is outside of time. That is a complete mind bomb if you sit there for a minute.
So I will ease up on the "get it done yesterday" mentality. (It will probably really help my tennis game as well.) And I will simply take my God's hand and follow. When I stand really close to Him, everything else doesn't seem quite so scary and then we can just enjoy the journey no matter how long it takes.
Yes, I will do that.
We were talking the other day and he said that he has finally figured out his ideal to reality exchange rate. If he thinks a project will ideally take 2 hours, he times it by 2.5 and that is how long the project will really take. He says its been really helpful because then he can offer more realistic expectations to his wife and himself.
I think everyone should figure out their exchange rate in multiple areas of their lives. This would really help us give ourselves grace but also foster communication and unity.
I wonder what my exchange rate is on home projects? I would guess it is pretty low. Maybe 1.5. I have a pretty realistic understanding of what a project will take, but no one can anticipate all the little things, like needing a part or not having the right tool, or your kids using the thing you need as a prop in their latest video production. But I really enjoy projects and tend to be able to approach them with realistic expectations.
But what if I have to work with someone else? Recently I had my kids empty out a bookshelf that my husband and I built together shortly after getting married. It is now empty but we are torn on what to do with it because it is a reminder of two things: First that my husband and I are very different and should not try to build things together, but also that if we do step out together and attempt a project, we might create something that we still own 21 years later. So what do we do? I want to burn it. My husband, however, wants to put in the garage and think about it. More on that another time.
But I also wonder what my exchange rate is for:
growing in intimacy with my God?
caring for my kid's hearts?
letting my husband love me?
letting go of my past?
grieving?
Recently, I have begun to feel the weight of grieving lift from my shoulders. I don't really know why it is lifting, it just seems to be lifting. I recently applied for a job; part-time but still much more than I've done for many years. I am also hoping to pursue grad school at Moody in 2013. But it also feels like I have been carrying a mantle of deep sadness for a year and half. It's bigger than just my mom, but perhaps this is another difficult part of Alzheimers. You grieve before they die. I guess I am assuming you grieve after they die too, but I bet it will be really different from what I've been doing this last year and half.
I see my Dad turning a corner too. He recently bought a brand new car. I don't think we have ever had a brand new car. He got a red one, because mom always wanted a new red car. The added bonus is that he gets to surprise her with it everyday. It's the gift that just keeps giving! She is sleeping a lot more now and speaking less. She forgets all of us now at times and is in and out. I can feel my Dad's loneliness when we talk. I admire his faith but I know he needs companionship too. I have asked God to bring people into his life that will just talk to him and enjoy him.
But we know the end is near though we don't really even now what the end is in this case. Even still, my father and brother and I have become so close and God has ushered in so much healing for all of us. We were such an angry house growing up. I know God gets an amazing amount of Glory given all He has done to help us overcome all the pain we have inflicted on each other over the years. But here we stand; loving each other and feeling loved amidst the wreckage of my mother's life. We are eager for her to just be with Jesus now and enter into her peace. No more sorrow. No more pain.
So my exchange rate for grieving has been about a year and half. Never saw that coming. Really thought I could do it over a weekend.. It has taken me 15 years to forgive my mother. You have got to be kidding! Gave myself a couple years for that one. I am not even going to answer the other 3. I suppose the bottom line is the exchange rate is however long it takes. Period. God just simply is in no rush. We are in a rush. I am in a rush. God, however, is not. He will take as long as it takes. I believe that is called faithfulness.
"He who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it." Phil 1:6
I have tried to think more about eternity in recent days. We are eternal beings. We will live for eternity. So who cares about 15 years in light of eternity? Our God is outside of time. That is a complete mind bomb if you sit there for a minute.
So I will ease up on the "get it done yesterday" mentality. (It will probably really help my tennis game as well.) And I will simply take my God's hand and follow. When I stand really close to Him, everything else doesn't seem quite so scary and then we can just enjoy the journey no matter how long it takes.
Yes, I will do that.
Monday, November 26, 2012
God's Thanksgiving train wreck
When I was in college, I was always excited to go home and see my family. That seemed odd to me considering all I wanted to do in high school was get the hell out of there. Even well into my marriage, I could still feel an excitement swell up in me when I was getting ready to go home to see my folks. What is more amazing to me is that I was always disappointed after spending time at home. Always. It was like I went home every time thinking, "It will all work this time. I know I always leave hurt, angry or disappointed, but not this time. This time will be different." My counselor calls that "Magical Thinking". All children engage in magical thinking. This is why we take them to Disney World to meet the people they see in their movies. And we love it as adults! It nourishes our own souls to watch childhood dreams come true, even though its not really real and it costs us a butt load of money. And yet every parent does it, just to bring joy to their child and to be there when it happens.
I had a picture in my head this Thanksgiving. I believe it honored God but I also see it now, in retrospect, as the waining cries of a child's heart. For me, this weekend was a total train wreck. I left for Thanksgiving after a crazy busy week holding several broken promises from my husband before he boarded a plane to Italy. We had a big fight and a line was drawn in the sand before we could be reunited. Thankfully we traveled Thanksgiving day and cleaned the house before we left. Traffic wasn't bad and I let my daughter who is learning to drive take some of the load. However, any time it alleviated behind the wheel for me ended up as stress in my neck. By the time we got to my folks, I was having trouble using my right arm from the knot in my shoulder. (My daughter does not get all the credit for the stress:)
Shortly after arriving, my son began to vomit. Awesome! He was running a pretty high fever and literally sat in a chair for 24 hours before starting to feel better. Soon I started to get sick, then my other daughter. All the while, my arm was just throbbing from the pain. It got so bad, I found a massage therapist in town and got an hour of deep tissue massage. It helped somewhat, but I was pretty badly bruised afterwards and my mom kept grabbing my arm. Then the voices came. Angry voices of self-pity and doubt engulfed me. It felt like being in a hole with no way to get out. So after a day and night of pain and wrestling I decided to serve my way out of it. I gave my mother a bath and washed her hair. She can't seem to remember to wash her hair anymore when she showers. All the personal hygiene stuff is gone. I don't know where my mother goes when I wash her hair, but it is a happy place and she is at perfect rest. Other than playing music for her, it is probably the only way I know to always bless her now.
Our trip ended with my mom begging us not to go and crying a lot as usual, and then a 6 hour trip home becoming 9 hours due to traffic. I also enjoyed driving the majority of that time with a fever myself. Miserable.
However, for my Dad, he had a great weekend. He loved having the house full of family and not having to cook and just being with all of us. For my brother, he loved having my kids at his house and cooking with my son and playing video games with the kids. For my extended family, they came and spent time with my mom and it was impressive how much she was able to take part in the conversation. For my kids, even with all the sickness, they had a blast with their Uncle and going to see a movie as a big family. For my Mom, it was happy and sad and overwhelming and normal. And as usual, my dog was in heaven.
But for me, it felt like a train wreck. Physically, spiritually and emotionally, I was beat up all weekend. Just before we left I went to breakfast with my mom and dad. My Dad and I have learned to talk about her in her presence without upsetting her, which should qualify us for college level credit! But I asked him if he ever wondered why God gave him this life. He said no. He just thanks God for the chance to serve another day and provisions to do so. His life has purpose and he is thankful for that. I was stunned. I still am. I will be thinking about that for awhile and get back to you.
Of course he is right. God's kindness has allowed money to come back into my Dad's life through the VA and their financial burden has been greatly eased. They were within months of having no money at all. It seems like a tremendous gift to my brother as well considering he is going to jail soon and will not be able to continue to pay back his debt to my folks. (In fact, my father has received enough that he has forgiven my brother's debt entirely and perhaps now they can just be father and son.) Clearly God is providing for my family. Even my brother's new girlfriend is eager to help us during my brother's incarceration.
My husband came through for me as well. Before he returned from Italy he made good on his promises and we have been reunited.
So was it truly a train wreck or do I just not understand God's ways? I couldn't help but be reminded of this verse today "12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
The section just before this talks about "serving with the strength God provides". I don't think I can explain this weekend better than that. I cried out to Jesus so many times to help me as I was sinking. This God stuff can be really hard.
So today I sleep, write and reflect (and go to the chiropractor!). Maybe tomorrow I will feel better and enjoy the blessings of this weekend rather than lament my battle scars. Come Jesus Come.
I had a picture in my head this Thanksgiving. I believe it honored God but I also see it now, in retrospect, as the waining cries of a child's heart. For me, this weekend was a total train wreck. I left for Thanksgiving after a crazy busy week holding several broken promises from my husband before he boarded a plane to Italy. We had a big fight and a line was drawn in the sand before we could be reunited. Thankfully we traveled Thanksgiving day and cleaned the house before we left. Traffic wasn't bad and I let my daughter who is learning to drive take some of the load. However, any time it alleviated behind the wheel for me ended up as stress in my neck. By the time we got to my folks, I was having trouble using my right arm from the knot in my shoulder. (My daughter does not get all the credit for the stress:)
Shortly after arriving, my son began to vomit. Awesome! He was running a pretty high fever and literally sat in a chair for 24 hours before starting to feel better. Soon I started to get sick, then my other daughter. All the while, my arm was just throbbing from the pain. It got so bad, I found a massage therapist in town and got an hour of deep tissue massage. It helped somewhat, but I was pretty badly bruised afterwards and my mom kept grabbing my arm. Then the voices came. Angry voices of self-pity and doubt engulfed me. It felt like being in a hole with no way to get out. So after a day and night of pain and wrestling I decided to serve my way out of it. I gave my mother a bath and washed her hair. She can't seem to remember to wash her hair anymore when she showers. All the personal hygiene stuff is gone. I don't know where my mother goes when I wash her hair, but it is a happy place and she is at perfect rest. Other than playing music for her, it is probably the only way I know to always bless her now.
Our trip ended with my mom begging us not to go and crying a lot as usual, and then a 6 hour trip home becoming 9 hours due to traffic. I also enjoyed driving the majority of that time with a fever myself. Miserable.
However, for my Dad, he had a great weekend. He loved having the house full of family and not having to cook and just being with all of us. For my brother, he loved having my kids at his house and cooking with my son and playing video games with the kids. For my extended family, they came and spent time with my mom and it was impressive how much she was able to take part in the conversation. For my kids, even with all the sickness, they had a blast with their Uncle and going to see a movie as a big family. For my Mom, it was happy and sad and overwhelming and normal. And as usual, my dog was in heaven.
But for me, it felt like a train wreck. Physically, spiritually and emotionally, I was beat up all weekend. Just before we left I went to breakfast with my mom and dad. My Dad and I have learned to talk about her in her presence without upsetting her, which should qualify us for college level credit! But I asked him if he ever wondered why God gave him this life. He said no. He just thanks God for the chance to serve another day and provisions to do so. His life has purpose and he is thankful for that. I was stunned. I still am. I will be thinking about that for awhile and get back to you.
Of course he is right. God's kindness has allowed money to come back into my Dad's life through the VA and their financial burden has been greatly eased. They were within months of having no money at all. It seems like a tremendous gift to my brother as well considering he is going to jail soon and will not be able to continue to pay back his debt to my folks. (In fact, my father has received enough that he has forgiven my brother's debt entirely and perhaps now they can just be father and son.) Clearly God is providing for my family. Even my brother's new girlfriend is eager to help us during my brother's incarceration.
My husband came through for me as well. Before he returned from Italy he made good on his promises and we have been reunited.
So was it truly a train wreck or do I just not understand God's ways? I couldn't help but be reminded of this verse today "12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
The section just before this talks about "serving with the strength God provides". I don't think I can explain this weekend better than that. I cried out to Jesus so many times to help me as I was sinking. This God stuff can be really hard.
So today I sleep, write and reflect (and go to the chiropractor!). Maybe tomorrow I will feel better and enjoy the blessings of this weekend rather than lament my battle scars. Come Jesus Come.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Starting the goodbye process
We will be going home for Thanksgiving this year. Sadly my brother will be heading off to jail in December for 3 months so this will be our Christmas together as well. But it will be much more than that for all of us. We are inviting family and friends to stop by and say their goodbyes to my mother.
During my visit in October I watched her completely loose my Dad for a time. They were just sitting at the table and she started to cry and shrivel. He spoke quiet and tender words to her as if speaking to a frightened child and slowly coaxed her back. It was very beautiful and tragic to watch, but we had been waiting for this day.
The truth is that my mother's health is really not bad. She may have several years of life left in her for all we know. But soon she will not know us anymore, so it's time to say our goodbyes. That is the hard part. It's really about us and not her. We need closure and it is tricky because some days are better than others, but if we waited til she was physically dead to say goodbye, our hearts would be left in limbo.
It is complicated though too. You don't want to upset her with too much sadness so we are having an open house the day after Thanksgiving and just enjoying an evening together. My hope is that people will cry it out as they drive home. Personally, I want a time for my kids to enjoy their grandmother but I also understand as a family this is not the end. It really feels like a beginning in many ways.
Me, my brother and my son are cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I expect it to be very fun and for there to be a fair amount of dancing and singing. Goodbyes are sad, but they can still be good memories.
Lately, I can see my father turning a corner as well as he has started to release his stuff. That's a big move for that generation. He grew up pretty poor, so stuff creates a sense of security. But sadly over time, it also creates a lot of work when it's time to undergo a change of life. But I am very proud of the hard choices he makes everyday to run their home, care for my mother, oversee the finances and tend to his own health. Somehow he even has time to ask me how I am doing.
I am also very proud of my brother. Going to jail doesn't sound good, but he is doing his time for some bad choices he made awhile ago. After he gets out, he can put his life back together as well. My brother and dad are good men who have spent too much of their lives rescuing others and hating themselves for it. But we have all grown through this process in our love for each other and in our understanding of our broken family systems. I am sure it never crossed my mind that God could bring healing to our family through my mother's disease. His ways are not my own. Today I am thankful for that.
Over the summer, our family went to breakfast together and it was a wonderful morning. Lots of laughter and good food. Outside the restaurant we had someone take a picture of the 4 of us. We all have big smiles and our hair is even combed. My brother has Redemption written across his shirt. It's a good picture of a good day.
When I looked for a frame at the store, I was with my son. I looked at several but the one we both agreed on had the words "Fairy Tales do come true!" written on the bottom. I am sure it is supposed to be a wedding frame, but who cares. If I was honest, all I really wanted as a kid was a safe and loving home. That seems accurate considering it is all I want for my own kids now. But safety is one of those words you have to wrestle with because it probably looks really different in your head than it does to the Lord. But He is the author and perfecter of our faith, so I think I will go with his picture and not my own from here out.
Thanksgiving will be a hard day. I will pull away and cry more than a couple times, but it will be a good day and we will encourage each other all the more as we see the day approaching. Jesus will be with us and we will see His glory.
During my visit in October I watched her completely loose my Dad for a time. They were just sitting at the table and she started to cry and shrivel. He spoke quiet and tender words to her as if speaking to a frightened child and slowly coaxed her back. It was very beautiful and tragic to watch, but we had been waiting for this day.
The truth is that my mother's health is really not bad. She may have several years of life left in her for all we know. But soon she will not know us anymore, so it's time to say our goodbyes. That is the hard part. It's really about us and not her. We need closure and it is tricky because some days are better than others, but if we waited til she was physically dead to say goodbye, our hearts would be left in limbo.
It is complicated though too. You don't want to upset her with too much sadness so we are having an open house the day after Thanksgiving and just enjoying an evening together. My hope is that people will cry it out as they drive home. Personally, I want a time for my kids to enjoy their grandmother but I also understand as a family this is not the end. It really feels like a beginning in many ways.
Me, my brother and my son are cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I expect it to be very fun and for there to be a fair amount of dancing and singing. Goodbyes are sad, but they can still be good memories.
Lately, I can see my father turning a corner as well as he has started to release his stuff. That's a big move for that generation. He grew up pretty poor, so stuff creates a sense of security. But sadly over time, it also creates a lot of work when it's time to undergo a change of life. But I am very proud of the hard choices he makes everyday to run their home, care for my mother, oversee the finances and tend to his own health. Somehow he even has time to ask me how I am doing.
I am also very proud of my brother. Going to jail doesn't sound good, but he is doing his time for some bad choices he made awhile ago. After he gets out, he can put his life back together as well. My brother and dad are good men who have spent too much of their lives rescuing others and hating themselves for it. But we have all grown through this process in our love for each other and in our understanding of our broken family systems. I am sure it never crossed my mind that God could bring healing to our family through my mother's disease. His ways are not my own. Today I am thankful for that.
Over the summer, our family went to breakfast together and it was a wonderful morning. Lots of laughter and good food. Outside the restaurant we had someone take a picture of the 4 of us. We all have big smiles and our hair is even combed. My brother has Redemption written across his shirt. It's a good picture of a good day.
When I looked for a frame at the store, I was with my son. I looked at several but the one we both agreed on had the words "Fairy Tales do come true!" written on the bottom. I am sure it is supposed to be a wedding frame, but who cares. If I was honest, all I really wanted as a kid was a safe and loving home. That seems accurate considering it is all I want for my own kids now. But safety is one of those words you have to wrestle with because it probably looks really different in your head than it does to the Lord. But He is the author and perfecter of our faith, so I think I will go with his picture and not my own from here out.
Thanksgiving will be a hard day. I will pull away and cry more than a couple times, but it will be a good day and we will encourage each other all the more as we see the day approaching. Jesus will be with us and we will see His glory.
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