The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

It's already Sunday morning and I can't believe another week has flown by. I got a phone call yesterday from a friend who took care of her Mom until she died and it was so good to hear from her. She said she just wanted to check in with me to see how we're all doing and we had a talk about this very issue of time. Her Mom (and Dad) were with her every winter for four years (they snowbird in Texas) and during the Alaskan summers they lived close enough that she could check in on them every day. Her words were that it did seem long at the time but looking back she knows that it flew by: just like the years with infants, preschoolers, gradeschoolers and teenagers.... I'm very aware of how similar this is to the years with my children and I have the same sense now as I did when the kids were little - that I only get one chance to do this right.

The big difference here is that with children you know they're going to grow and get more independent and then you have the joy of adult children who've become friends. And the progression is steady, predictable and (mostly) delightful. With Mom and Dad....well, we're going the opposite direction and I have no idea how the timing will work out. And the end result will break my heart (even as I rejoice for them in the new life they'll be born into.)

I hung up their name plate from Bonaventure on their bedroom door yesterday and had a brief flash of how painful it might be to take it down when this is all over. I know I'm setting myself up for more grief when they die because of all the memories we're making right now. The good, the bad and the ugly. Even as I write this I wrestle with my desire to shape the things to come and the truth that I have no control over this unfolding story. None. And it drives me back to my knees and to the God that gives grace to every situation and Who holds all things in His Loving Hands. Even the tough stuff - especially the tough stuff. Again I'm amazed at what a gift this time is and how it is shaping me, healing me and stretching me. This is what gives me the strength to take each day as it comes...the good, the bad and the ugly.

It's Not About Safe

Mom had a fall in the bathroom early Monday morning. I was sound asleep and so was Dad but thankfully Hallack heard it. She decided to rush off without her walker in order to make it on time and then fell while heading to the sink. The concern for making it on time is very much in the forefront of her thoughts even though she's usually already urinated (thank God for Depends!) I can't seem to ease her mind that she's well protected. We had a doctor's appointment that day so, after checking her out, I put her back in bed. There were no broken bones or even much soreness - thank You Father!

Since Dad has fallen out of bed a couple of times (including just this morning) I've been tempted to think that they're not safe enough with me. On Tuesday morning God gave me the great gift of Staci showing up on her way to work. Coffee in hand and prayer on her mind she joined me (in my pjs) and we had 20 wonderful minutes of sharing and praying together. When I told her my concerns about this not being safe enough, her words from the Lord to me were this "it's not about safe." She went on to say that of course they'd be more safe in nursing home but they wouldn't have life. They are more safe with me than they were at Aegis so the only other alternative is skilled nursing. Where they couldn't sleep in their own bed and would be at the mercy of caregivers that are strangers - not their daughter who loves them and wants them to end well. What a helpful reminder that even though they are "under my thumb ":0), at least it's my thumb and not a poorly paid hourly worker who probably wouldn't understand why Mom can be so self-absorbed. Someone who probably isn't interested in learning patience and sweetness of spirit and getting lots of practice with her! Someone who doesn't know her love of God and could pray with her when she gets scared or angry or depressed. I have the privilege of attempting to be that person for her and to smooth the rough edges so that Dad can still be with her. And so they can still snuggle in bed together. Which they like to do in the mornings and I encourage. And I get time to reflect and write and pray before we're off and running with another day. I hear Dad so it's time for breakfast. I'm off and running (well more like walking :0)

Dad's turn in ER

With trying to finish the background story, I've gotten a bit behind on the latest happenings. Last Monday we had a nice trip to Enumclaw to see Mark and have a birthday lunch with him. Mom had a tough time the last 1/2 hour of the drive because she had to go to the bathroom (although she didn't tell me that, she just said she was uncomfortable.) Dad, however, said he enjoyed every minute of the trip. We had a nice lunch in Auburn and a quiet, peaceful drive home.

On Wednesday we had another adventure in the ER. This time it was because Dad had blood in his urine and was in pain. When we got there he told the admitting nurse that he'd noticed it in the morning but didn't tell me until 6pm. I don't know how to convince him that telling me things sooner rather than later is better for ALL of us. He's now on his 5th day of antibiotics for his bladder infection. I told them this wouldn't look good on my resume and that I was going to become a water nazi. I've been at them to drink more water every hour or so and it seems to be helping.

We invited Heidi and Gisela to join us on a trip to a craft bazaar at Hallack's new church (on Friday) and I thought they were enjoying it. Besides looking at all the beautiful displays, they got to sit together and eat cookies while drinking hot apple cider. The next day, however, Mom was really agitated and upset and didn't know what she didn't know. She was feeling very sorry for herself and talked about having a hard time following what Heidi and Gisela were saying. Since Heidi and I were the ones doing most of the talking, what she was really saying is that she couldn't follow our conversation but I don't think she's comfortable criticizing me. Or she just didn't remember who had been talking! I acknowledged how hard it must be to not keep up like she used to. In essence she was just feeling sorry for herself. Saturday was mostly spent sleeping and in fact, she never even got dressed for the day. At 6:30 she toddled off to bed and Dad joined her not too much later. They seemed to have a good night's sleep but she woke up really out of it. I wasn't sure we'd make it to church but at 9am was able to get both parents up and while Dad showered I made them breakfast. I left them sipping smoothies while I picked up Ben from a sleepover. When we got back, Mom was really upset because Dad had knocked over his smoothie. He told me how sorry he was and I was able to tell both of them that it didn't matter one little bit. And it didn't. But Mom couldn't let go of her anger so I said to her, "I'm the one who's going to clean it up so why do you care? I've learned to not cry over things that can't cry over me." She was still agitated so I told her the story of that little piece of wisdom: when our good friends the Campbells came back from a vacation and found their whole house had flooded from broken pipes - that is what Sharon said. I've never forgotten how that crisis was handled without blaming, without self-pity, without anger but with a deep peace that this too was in God's Hands and something they could accept.

After getting Mom showered and dressed for church, she had an "accident" and I was able to treat it in the same way that I treated the smoothie incident. After getting her cleaned up and headed out to the car (we were already going to be late) she had another "accident." Dad and Ben were already in the van so I told them to come back in the house since we weren't going to make it. I was disappointed to not get to go to church and was honest with Mom about that but reiterated that this was not her fault and not something to cry over.

I know this is hard for our parents to do because I remember how these kinds of situations were treated in our family. I fought hard against not treating my kids like they'd committed a crime when an "accident" happened. I wish I could say that I succeeded every time but I confess that sometimes I reacted like my parents did. When I did I usually apologized to the kids and told them that it wasn't their "fault." I can't even begin to say how healing it is to treat my parents differently than they treated me. It somehow feels like coming full circle - first attempting to parent in a healthy way and then to parent my parents in a new healthy way. Another gift from this time of caring for them. As I think about this, I wonder if that is how we are blessed as we "honor our father and mother?"

Lest you think that I'm always gracious, always completely loving, always giving...well it's simply not true. I have times when it all threatens to overwhelm me and Mom's attitude appalls me. I get frustrated with Dad when he tells Mom that she cannot leave him - that he has to die first. I'm sometimes grossed out by the personal care and tempted to go down the path of "and it could get so much worse..." I have days when little things can set me off (yesterday I dropped Mom's pill container and pills went all over the floor and I sheepishly admit that the "s" word that rhymes with admit came flying out...and then I found the humor.) Sometimes I hope that this time will not last forever and the end will come sooner rather than later (and then I worry that I'll have guilt when they do die because I've actually wanted them to.) Yet the gift of this time, is time. Time to reflect, time to see the grace in little moments, time to love unselfishly when I don't feel like it, and time to trust that God is in control and I only have this day to live in His grace. And time to give myself grace when I have a crappy and self-centered attitude. So many gifts, so much unknown and so much peace when I give it all over to the Author of Time.

And now it's time to end this post, get dressed for the day and finish painting their bathroom door!

Where Does Her Mind Go?

I just finished checking on Mom this morning and she was really out of it. I think she knew who I was but everything else was up for grabs. Sometimes her delusions are funny or sweet like the time a couple of days ago when she was so worried for Dad. I asked her how her night had gone and she said it was "really shocking." When I asked her what was shocking she turned to Dad and said, "do you want to tell her or should I?" Since Dad was asleep I asked her to just tell me and with really big eyes she said "he was supposed to marry her and she broke off with him and married someone else." I thought it was kind of sweet that she was so worried about Dad's broken heart and wondered if that had really happened to him. Later on, when she was back in reality, I asked her if that had happened with Dad and she thought maybe it had - a long, long time ago. On another occasion she asked me if I'd seen what she'd been doing - cleaning the house (wouldn't that be nice? :0) After I gave her pills to her I said she better go back to sleep after all that work!

This morning, however, she was really frightened and nothing seemed right to her. She asked why did she have to be in this little place that was so hot? There were concerns about not getting enough to eat "they only feed me little sticks, I'm not kidding." Which I think might be a reference to the snack of pretzels I gave her the night before. You see, she'd had a rough day yesterday and just wanted to stay in bed all day. There were lots of tears and feeling sorry for herself so I spent time praying with her and encouraging her to count her blessings. Right now the glass is less than half empty and, while I don't want her to dwell in her misery, I do get that life is so out of control for her. She sometimes says " I just want to die" and I walk a fine line of encouraging her to live each day to the fullest and also let go and know that death is not this terrible thing but only birth to her next life. Does she believe that? This also taps into my fears (nothing like seeing your once all-knowing Mother shaking with fear) and I find myself going back to my faith, time and time again.

I did finally get her up for awhile and she usually rallies then and has a pretty good evening. Yesterday was a different story and after giving her a really late lunch I was trying to give her a snack so that we could have dinner together - that's the reason for the pretzels. She couldn't make it and went back to bed before we had dinner. Now I know that I should've gotten her up and fed her dinner anyway. Dad joined her about 7:30 because he knows how much she likes to have him with her (at one point this morning she said, "I just want Dad with me, holding my hand.") And I think he was also really tired. I checked on them before I went to bed, gave them all their nighttime meds and they seemed to be in good spirits. I sometimes wonder if that much time in bed is what gives her the really vivid delusions. She had really wet her depends and even the bed and that makes her really disturbed (who could blame her?) So after getting her up, changing her, putting down a towel and feeding her a banana she snuggled back into bed. I just went back and checked on her and she was much better. She said to me - "this place is so much better than that other place!" And so I wonder, "where did her mind go?" and why is it so scary?!

Parenting our Parents cont'd

I realized that I never finished my account of February 22nd - how we got to the place that we're at. I'm going to attempt to finish that account of this ongoing story. If for no other reason than to remind myself how God has led me through this process.

Be forewarned that this one is REALLY long!

The weekend I went to see Mom settled into rehab was traumatic for me. Seeing them sitting together and the fear in Mom's eyes when we had to leave her at night was excruciating. She claimed that she was being abused and shoved onto her bed and while I only saw kindness and caring from the staff....well, we weren't with her 24/7 so I couldn't be sure. Then there was the issue of Dad being left in the apartment alone - that was not working so we needed to move him into assisted living at Bonaventure (my brother calls it Bon Voyage). I became convinced that if we left Mom at that rehab facility she was going to die there; and my brother John agreed with me. What to do next was the big question?

On Monday I had it all arranged to get Dad moved into a one bedroom assisted living unit at Bonaventure. My big, strong nephews had the day off and they were planning to come help me move a couple pieces of big furniture - just enough for Dad to get by on. I spent the morning moving his clothes, toiletries and a few kitchen essentials. I was on my way to rehab so that Dad could sit with Mom while the boys were helping me and something very unexpected happened - my van just stopped working. I pulled over to the side of the road all the while watching my neat little plan unraveling. I called John and he came to get Dad to take him to Mom and I found a towing company that could get someone to me in 30 minutes. When I got to the Honda dealership it turned out the part was not too difficult, they had time and they could get it done by 5pm. So John met me at the dealership and graciously let me take his big diesel truck so I could get Dad and go back to moving him (all the while trying to get his work done - once again I want to thank John and especially his wife Alex for all the ways they cared for our parents in the midst of very busy schedules and demanding jobs.!)

After getting my van back, Dad and I headed to Bonaventure and began tackling moving his TV so that he'd have something to watch. One of the caregivers there, Tammy, just "happened" to be there during the morning and she'd already helped me to move his bed. A side note about Tammy is that we'd made connections on earlier visits and found out we have a mutual love for Jesus and "healing rooms." In case you don't know about them, they are wonderful places to go for prayer and healing of all sorts and they're springing up all over. Tammy had become a friend and advocate for our parents and prayed for them regularly so I wasn't surprised (too much) when she "happened" to be there just when I needed her.

So that evening we got a cart and started to move a few of the bigger items. Since Dad was having trouble walking, I convinced him to sit on the dolly and hold his big flat screen TV while I rolled him down the hall. I have to admit that it looked ridiculous so when one of the caregivers saw us and started cracking up - we just had to join in. Then, like an answer to prayer, all of the sudden John showed up and we were able to move the love seat and dining room table and Dad was set. But by now it was too late for me to head back to Seattle so off to John's house I went to spend the night - exhausted and wondering "why I was still in Wenatchee?" I don't believe anything happens by accident so I began praying and asking for wisdom on what to do next. I hardly slept that night and at 4:30 called my sister Gail who was in Chicago (or one of the many other places she frequents for work) and talked over all my concerns with her. A major concern was that Dad was not doing well with Mom gone and would go looking for her in the night. They are so used to each other always being there .... it's almost like losing your limbs - half of you. I got up and went back to Bonaventure to their old two bedroom unit to shower and get ready for the day. At 5:30 am I called my two dear friends/prayer buddies (who were meeting at our regular Tuesday morning Starbucks prayer time in Lake Forest Park). I needed their prayer/wisdom/support and the minute I heard their sweet voices I began to cry. Immediately they began to speak the word of the Lord to me - I knew it was because it ministered deep into my soul and provided a light in what seemed a dark tunnel. They told me that I was looking for a short term solution when I needed a long term one. They also said that I needed to tell my parents that I love them and want them with me. This was true (as a family we had already decided that we needed to move them to Seattle to be centrally located but were trying to find the right time and way to break the news). After listening to them and being prayed for, I was in a whole new space. Now with a light heart and easier steps I made my plans for the day - to get Dad back with Mom and talk things over with them. I did so with the confidence that this is what God wanted me to do. Mom was so relieved and even Dad accepted this (although you should've seen his eyes when we told him what we were thinking. Change can be difficult at any age but especially hard when you're 91!) I think he realized how Mom was giving up and he was willing to do anything to get her back to a place of hope and interest in life.

So I headed back that day to Seattle and dove into finding just the right rehab for Mom. After asking around and visiting several places I settled on Manor Care in Lynnwood which was a pendulum swing in the right direction from where she was in Wenatchee. We started the process of getting her transferred (thanks to lots of help from John) and here's where the details start to get fuzzy. At some point I headed back to Wenatchee to help get the final pieces of their lives at Bonaventure moved out. Before I got there, the big two bedroom had been emptied and cleared out and a storage unit had been rented (by brother Greg). I think that I didn't get there until Sunday afternoon but prior to that, Mark, Gail, Greg, John and his family and Adrienne had been working all weekend on cleaning the house out, the apartment and taking things to storage. Really...I don't know how we would've done it without everyone doing their part.

Here is where I need to interject one of the biggest blessings during this year of upheaval and that is how it has brought all of us siblings together. Even more than when our brother Neal died (and that bonded us as well) but this time we have all seen that our love for our parents and each other has been a life saver and a deep joy. I KNOW this is not always (or possibly even usually) the case. Many families fall apart in times of crisis and take out their stress, grief and pain on each other. We are not that close (in proximity or emotionally) and have differing views on politics and religion but our love for each other and our parents supersedes all that. Hmmmm, perhaps there is a wider application to our experience. Could it be that love, or lack thereof, is truly the crisis our nation is facing? Or even our world? But I digress....whatever the lesson to be learned, I am extremely grateful for the ways that each of us has been able to rise above our woundedness and differences and let love motivate our actions. Here's to you, dear brothers and sisters....you are truly the best part of my childhood and I can't imagine life without any one of you.

The next phase of this journey was to actually get Mom and Dad to Seattle. Gail drove them in our van and has her own story to tell of stopping to go to the bathroom. I went ahead of her in our little car (oh, yeah which Greg had to fix up for us since it was missing a brake light and Gail got pulled over in it. I almost forgot that piece!) Somehow I missed her call that they needed to stop so she had to do it without me (and Mom was using a wheelchair at that point:0) John followed us with his truck full of bed, TV and other essentials so that we could set Dad up in our house. We got Mom to rehab and settled her in and then took Dad back to our house where John had already set up his room.

After John and Gail went back to their homes, we settled into a routine where Dad would spend days with Mom at Manor Care and I would work and then go get him in the evening. It was a wonderful godsend that Adie could come down some days and her son, Will, also pitched in with the transportation and visiting. Sometime during the three weeks that Mom was at Manor Care, our daughter Hannah had a week off from college. She'd asked, much earlier, if her friend Claire could stay with us that week since home for her was Hawaii and too far to go. We, of course, said yes not having any idea what that her bedroom would be Grandpa's and they'd have to bunk in the basement :0). They were great sports and ended up helping quite a bit with cooking and transportation of Dad.

During this time I was really wrestling with wanting to move them in with me when Mom was finished with rehab. The rest of the family thought I was crazy (and I did too, sometimes) but the main thing that stopped me was lack of restroom facilities to accommodate Mom. That and the craziness of my job. So I resigned myself to the choice that Gail and I had found when she came to help with the move. We had decided on Aegis - an upscale retirement home with assisted living that was 1.7 miles from my house. The weeks in rehab were filled with physical therapy and visits from family and while she was making some progress, there were always scenes of Dad not wanting to leave her and her desire to spend most of her time in bed. She also claimed that they were abusing her but begged me not to say anything because then they would take it out on her. The one she was most afraid of was Lisa her physical therapist. I knew this to be delusional because I observed Lisa with her and she was the one who diagnosed Mom's Parkinsons. She pushed Mom but always with love and cheerfulness. On the last day she told Mom that she'd been influenced by her to pray and even go back to church. That goodbye scene made me cry as I thought about how afraid Mom had been in that place and yet God was still able to draw others to Himself through her.

After 3 weeks at Manor Care, Mom seemed to stop progressing and was withdrawing again. Being separated from Dad was taking a toll and she still believed she was being abused. One Sunday afternoon we found her sitting in her wheelchair, parked next to the nurses station. Her eyes were as big as saucers and she looked terrified. We took her back to her room and she started to cry. She didn't want to make waves and she was miserable sitting there but too afraid to say anything. I realized then that they didn't know what was best for her and it was time to get Mom and Dad back together. I found out that rehab could be done at home so we started the process to get them moved into Aegis. Once again, it took a group effort from Greg, John, Gail and me to get them settled in. Good times have been had around packing and unpacking boxes and suitcases - getting smaller and more condensed with each successive move. Little did we know then, that in eight months we'd need to do it all over again.

So I now settled into a routine of checking in on them daily or at least several times a week. When they first moved in, Mom was in a wheelchair and needed help with almost everything but being back with Dad was great medicine (as well as the home health care) so it wasn't too long before she was walking again and needing help mainly to shower. The Evergreen Home Health program was wonderful and gave us many suggestions for ways to help both parents succeed. Mark became a vital part of their care as he partnered with me in finding supplies they needed, building platforms to lift up their chairs, taking them to appointments and coming once a week to spend time with them. Mark has become my co-parent and really don't know if I could do this without him. I'm quite sure I couldn't.

The past eight months have been a blur of visits and appointments. I joke that one appointment always leads to three more and this has been true with visits to the dentist, optometrist, neurologists (they each have their own), cardiologist, dermatologist and primary care physician. We've discovered a backlog of health issues and have been working through them as they come up. One major issue for Mom was a recurrence of skin cancer on her nose which had to be removed. Their primary care physician, Dr. Lee, noticed it and had us go to a dermatologist who then referred us to a specialist which resulted in minor surgery. I say minor but when they called me in to go over the post surgery care (and before they bandaged her up) I almost gasped. The stitches ran from between her eyes, down her nose and then followed the line in her face to the corner of her mouth. It's healed up really nicely but it sure shocked me when I first saw it. None of us expected it to be that extensive so it really threw her for a loop. I spent the first night with them at Aegis to make sure she didn't get behind on her pain medication and that was when I discovered how goofed up she was on her sleeping patterns. At 3:30 in the morning she was wide awake, looking for a snack and talking a mile a minute. Poor Dad was following her around and trying to find candy bars (she has a terrible sugar jones but so do I so I must come by it honestly:0) so I sent him back to bed and got her a healthy snack. Finally I understand his exhaustion and why she wants to sleep during the day.

(As I'm typing this, I'm listening to the monitor and hearing her talking to him - she's awake and has been for the past 3 hours. It started with a fall in the bathroom and I've been monitoring her since. I'm not sure if this is typical - Dad wouldn't complain, but once again I get why he's been so tired of late.)

The sleepover helped me to see that they were coming to the end of their time at Aegis. Mom had begun withdrawing again and Dad had told Mark that he "hated it there." For my part, I hated the sense that they were "parked" there. One day while passing through the lobby, they saw someone being taken away in an ambulance. Dad remarked, out loud, "that's how we're all going to leave here." At first Adrienne was appalled but we laughed about it later.

The final realization that I was called to care for them in our home came through a series of circumstances outside of what was going on with them. First of all, there was the sense that I was finished with my call at Lake Forest Park Presbyterian. I knew that it was time to move on from there but wasn't sure what was next. I was actively seeking what God had for me next but didn't know what, where or when. Secondly, I was realizing that with Hallack's new position as interim pastor at North Creek Presbyterian, he was going to be much less able to pick up the slack at home. He would have longer hours, more responsibility and be further from home. I knew that it would be important for me to be around more for Ben (especially since Bekah would be headed off to college in the fall.) The final piece of the call fell into place the week that Bekah was trying to make her decision on which school to attend. Her first and best choice had been George Fox but the financial aid there was quite a bit less than the other schools so we'd ruled it out. She really agonized over the rest of her choices and I finally said to her, "Bekah, if money weren't the issue, where would you go?" and without a moment's hesitation she said, "George Fox." All along we'd felt that it was the right place for her but the lesser aid was an issue. I have been working hard at not letting money be the final determining factor on anything and putting my trust in God instead but paying for college is a big challenge. A faith stretcher. In the moment that she said "George Fox" it all came together for me. In my mind I saw all the tumblers from a combination fall into place (just like what happens when unlockng a big safe) and I knew what I was being called to do - move our parents into our home. That revelation came the last week in April and now, five months later, it's a reality. Oh, it took a lot to get here: untangling myself from my position at Lake Forest Park, remodeling a bathroom, cleaning out space to incorporate their household into ours, shuttling two girls off to college as well as transforming Hannah's room into one for Mom and Dad . I'm still finishing up trim work and have more painting to do but every week we get a little more settled in. Who knows how long this will be? Only God does and wisely has not given me roadmap but just enough light to take it "one day at a time."

I've marveled at all that has gone on these past 10 months and am truly grateful for this opportunity to be stretched in uncomfortable ways. I try to remind myself, when it seems a bit too much, that diamonds are formed under great pressure and nothing worth doing is ever easy. That helps a bit but what helps the most is knowing that I'm learning to "honor thy father and mother, that it may go well with thee and thou mayest live long on the earth." I learned that commandment so many years ago in catechism but am now learning how to live it each day.

A Trip Out and Going to Church

It has been a good couple of days (with a few setbacks) beginning with a visit to a big nursery in Woodinville. I ordered the newspaper for Dad and in it was a coupon for 40% off on one item at Molbacks (a really nice nursery). So on Thursday, I called my sister-in-law and she brought her mom (who has alzheimers) over, so that we could go together. It was a nice fall day and perfect for a little drive and adventure. I purchased a plant for our yard to commemorate their move in and we had fun walking around and looking at all the incredible plants and holiday displays - both Halloween and Christmas. Mom complained quite a bit and kept wanting to sit down so we found the cafe that sits in the middle of a beautiful garden. It was lovely and peaceful so we just enjoyed a tasty treat and sat and visited. That night Dad was so appreciative and thanked me for a really fun day. I know how much he needs to get out and that has become my motivator to push through mom's objections. In the end, she enjoyed it as well.

Yesterday we actually made it to church and even though it took quite a bit of pushing and cajoling and motivational speaking - we got there. Again, they both enjoyed it and were so glad that they went. At one point I said to mom, "look, I really need this and so do you so we're going to go." She couldn't argue with that!

In between those two great outings we had a couple of challenges. Dad fell down on Friday night right before he went to bed. And he didn't tell me about it until the next morning. He was stepping back from helping mom and lost his balance, landed hard on his butt and then hit his shoulder and head quite hard. I can't believe I didn't hear it and that he didn't let me know! I tried to emphasize how important it is for him to fill me in on these kinds of happenings when they actually happen. He told me that he did tell me, that I was right there and in fact, I was in bed with him. I told him, "no, I was not and not to tell other people that!" Another sign that he's not quite as sharp as I sometimes assume he is. He did not want me to take him to the ER and only wanted to take it easy for a couple of days. So I did and yet, in the middle of the night, I lie and worry if that was the best thing to do. I walk a fine line between caring for him and yet still letting him have some authority over his own life. What if he had bleeding in the brain? I watched him pretty carefully over the past 48 hours and he seems to be fine. He is a stubborn old coot. The other challenge came Saturday night while he was showering and he pulled down the shower curtain. Mom was standing in the doorway stressing out and the only thing to do was to go and help him - while he stood there stick stark naked. I just did my best to give him privacy by not looking and keeping the curtain between the two of us. The day of seeing him naked was bound to come and I think we both handled it pretty well. I never did find out why the shower curtain fell - he said he didn't fall, but I'm assuming he grabbed it or stepped on it and down it came. I plan to have a mounted rod put in (that has always been the plan) but now it seems that I need to do this sooner rather than later. Time to finish the work in their bathroom!

Each day is a gift and an opportunity for grace and growth - I'm so aware of that. I'm still grateful for this time in my life and the much slower pace that I'm living. As I keep my eyes on God and look to Him for strength and perspective I find many reasons to be grateful. As long as I don't try to figure out what's coming down around the river bend. I'm just enjoying it as it comes.

The Visit

Yesterday, mom's cousin came for lunch and a visit.  It was great to have their first visitor and it was so good for mom (almost three hours flew by and she wasn't wanting to go and lay back down....)  It reminds me how important stimulation is for both of them - even when she claims she doesn't want it. 

A few things were said, however, that made me cringe and I can't help but want to process them.  One of the first things she said was "how is it living under the thumb of your daughter?"  Yikes.  A little later, after finding out they'd only been here three weeks, she said "oh, you're still in the honeymoon stage - wait until they've been here two months!"  And as she was leaving and I was thanking her for coming, she said "I think I've done some good here."  Wow.

In between these gems were some good times of reminiscing and encouragement and open sharing about our lives.  What I have to remember is that when someone says things like this it's usually coming out of their own story (guilt, remorse, denial...) and since she put her mom in a nursing home she may be reacting to our situation from that place.  That's what I've found so amazing since I answered this call to care for mom and dad - how many people have tried to talk me out of it.  Complete strangers, good friends, caregivers at Aegis and distant relatives all seem to think that I don't really know what I'm getting into.  Of course I don't really know (even after 3 weeks) because things can change so rapidly but that's why I have to take it "one day at a time."  When I try to peer into the future and imagine what next year or even next week will look like I'm only asking for trouble.  Worry and fear often accompany forecasting and all of it is useless.  Today is all I have and it is enough.  This discipline (of living one day at a time) is hard work but may be the very best gift I'm being given.  Time to get them up and see what mischief we can get into.

The ER

Thursday brought about a new experience - spending time in the ER. I know my brother John had quite a few of these adventures and I'm appreciating his care of them these past few years with a deeper understanding! It started while taking Dad to the Sports Medicine clinic to try and get him some relief for his feet. He has extreme athritis in his left foot and says he can "hear the bones crunching." We came away with several options for topical pain relief and I'm delighted to say that the lidocain patch is effective (although we can't use it all the time). While at the clinic I noticed how desperately he needed a pedicure and so we went for that next. Mom was increasingly agitated during these appointments so after I fed them dinner I finally called the "on call" doctor who sent me to the ER. I was suspecting and it was confirmed that she had a urinary tract infection. UTI's can cause much confusion in the elderly and that's what clued me in. After a couple of painful procedures and an IV drip of antibiotic, they wrote us up a prescription and sent us all home. I filled her oral prescription the next morning and she seemed to be doing much better on Friday. Mark came to hang out with Mom and Dad while I took the evening off to go to dinner and a conference with a friend. So far so good.

Saturday she was pretty worn out so spent more time sleeping but nothing was too unusual. I had purchased an intercom system that day so Dad could page me when he needs me. That way I could be out in the yard working and know he wouldn't have to walk to get my attention. I also want him to be able to page me in the night. It was a good thing because he ended up using it on Sunday morning when Mom got delusional. She went to bed early (6:30!) and I worried that she might not sleep through the night. When she feels woozy there is nothing she wants to do other than lie down flat on her bed. So off to bed she went (although I did tell her she couldn't bother Dad if she woke up in the middle of the night :0).

She woke up convinced that two men were in the other room, talking about her. I tried to tell her that she must've been dreaming but she got really agitated at that and, with heavy disgust, told me to "just go back to bed and to sleep!" She looked at her water bottle and thought that someone was trying to poison her. She asked me to go talk to Mark in the next room (although he wasn't!). I did finally manage to calm her down and get her back to sleep but it made me wonder if the infection was not clearing up. After talking to another "on call" doctor I took her back to the ER. This time we spent over 5 hours while they ran almost every test imaginable. The final evaluation was by a mental health professional who offered inpatient psychiatric treatment as one of her options. I declined that one.

She was completely worn out again yesterday but when she finally did get up at 1:30, she was so much more like her old self. We had a nice evening together and they didn't go to bed until 10pm. I think that perhaps now she's getting over the effects of the infection (she seemed to be doing much better when I gave her meds this morning.)

The concern for me is that there always seems to be a crisis on Sunday morning that keeps me from taking them to church. Last week I got to go because Bekah was home but this week we all had to miss. I know how crucial it is for my overall health to be able to worship so I'm convinced that this is a spiritual attack. The first week when I made Mom go, she was so glad afterwards and in such good spirits. My prayer is going to be focused on Saturday night and Sunday morning so that we can all go to church. I want them to keep their focus on God and His loving care for them. That is the reason that I'm available to them and in order to keep us all in balance we need to keep our eyes on Him. I welcome all the prayers I can get for this challenge. "Our fight isn't against flesh and blood but against the principalities and powers of darkness." Eph 6:12 Thank you for your prayers.

Today

Today Dad is sleeping in and I think he's depressed. He looked at the stack of receipts for all the meds he's taking and then told me "it's so much money" (remind me to put that kind of stuff away!) and "I'm not worth it." No matter how much I say that he's "worth it", I can't make him believe it. He has spent his whole life being productive and just sitting around is not cutting it.

He wants to do something and I'm trying to figure out what that can be.

Our first foray into projects was a bit of a disaster. He was helping me put shelves together for the bathroom but instead of reading the directions he just started putting the screws in - without the locking washers. I would have let it go but they were wobbly and he even realized it so we had to go back and do them all over again. He's too "with it" to not realize that this made the project twice as long and it was a bit frustrating for me. I tried not to show it but I'm afraid he intuited it - or maybe he didn't and I'm just worrying about it. Then came the fiasco of putting the door handle on. I hadn't asked for his help but he stepped in anyway. He's no longer strong enough to put in screws by hand and when I got him the electric drill, he ended up stripping one of the screws and scratching the new handle.

So what I really need to do is find projects that he can succeed at without being patronizing. And not worry if something is not perfect (damn my perfectionism rearing it's ugly head). I was able to tell Dad that the scratches didn't matter - and say it with sincerity. I'm afraid, however, that this was not my first reaction and he knew it.
So I go back to remembering how important love is to this whole situation - it really is the foundation from which I must operate. Love covers over a multitude of sins (including perfectionism) and not only has this been my parenting mantra - it is now my parenting parents mantra.

A follow up to the morning's reason for sleeping in. He was just snuggling with mom and they were saying how much they love one another. When I found that out, I told them to not let me interrupt them and left them alone. Love, it really is the reason to live and does heal all wounds. And it is in such short supply simply because we do not turn to the Giver of Love and ask. Well, I'm learning to ask (and have been for some time) in each and every situation. This is the joy and challenge I've been given for this season. And every season.

Bewildered

...that's how Dad looked when I came out from helping Mom and found him with his breakfast upchucked all over the nice clothes he'd put on for church. The look was sort of "what just happened?" and "what do I do now?" I got him cleaned up and back in his pajamas as quickly as possible and then tackled the floor. He's not sick very often so it took us both by surprise and I'm still wondering if it was the combination of his meds and orange juice on an empty stomach? He slept most of the day but today seems to be much better so I've made a mental note to get food in him before giving the fistful of drugs that he takes at each meal.

The bigger reminder for me is that these kinds of episodes will some day be more of the rule rather than the exception. The day when both of them need more intensive care and what if that happens simultaneously? Those are the kinds of questions / concerns that I can't solve now so am choosing to trust them to God, the One who holds the future.

This afternoon I dropped a smoothie on the floor and it splashed from one end of the kitchen to the other. This time I found the humor in being back on the floor, washing it on my hands and knees and it reminded me of my favorite book "The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life." In this 1880's classic by Hannah Whitall Smith, she talks about how our daily circumstances can be used to grow us into the likeness of Christ IF (and it's a big if) we allow them to. How do I let the little and sometimes not so little challenges affect me? This is truly my challenge and I choose to let God stretch me in uncomfortable ways. As I was mopping up the smoothie I thought of Romans 5:3-5 "And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us." And while a spilled smoothie is hardly suffering, it is a circumstance that I can choose to endure and allow character to be built by my response to it. That and all the little challenges I face in caring for mom as she despairs over her illness. My choice is to keep looking to Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit and pointing her to that hope as well. This is my calling and my daily choice - thanks be to God for the gift of His Spirit!