Trying to stay in the present with those we love.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

The above is one of Mom's  favorite hymns.

I'm a manager of a staffing service. I always have a million things to do at once and I'm constantly deciding which of these tasks are the most urgent. I deal with the workers, my staff and my customers.

Added on to all that, this week someone from the corporate office came and did an audit. She did her job well, she found all our mistakes, pointed them out to us and graded us on everything,  She wasn't pleased that we hadn't really been paying enough attention to certain things. I wasn't pleased with the whole process in general.

I hate it when my life gets this way because by the time I see Mom, my cell phone is ringing constantly. I don't turn it off because I think I could miss something.  I'm completely tired of listening, my patience level is low and usually a little later than she would like me to be. When I see her , she immediately starts telling me about how her day went an it's usually not things I want to hear. She talks about how long she had to wait to go to the bathroom , or how her bed wasn't made right. I feel bad because she doesn't like anything on her plate and for the fourth time this week, I forgot to bring her something I made that she would like. 

 This doesn't only happen to people who are trying to care for their elderly mom, it happens when you have babies and they want you to read them a story but you don't have time, when a friend calls to talk to you about a problem and you cut them short. It happens when you have too much going on in your life and so you short change the ones you love the most.

 Don't you hate that!

 

I'm going to try to take a deep breath before I go in to see Mom today and stay in the present. She deserves my full attention and so do the other people I love. As they say, life is a gift, that's why we call it the present. By the way, Happy Valentine's Day.

Perhaps we all should have thought this through a little better.

When dealing with the elderly, you often come to the understanding that...well...ummm...perhaps we should have thought this through a little better.

This past weekend for some reason or another, the kitchen staff where Mom lives decided to use flimsy cheap plastic spoons, knives and forks instead of regular sturdy silverware. Perhaps they were trying to make it easier to clean up.  Perhaps one of the dishwashers broke. Perhaps they were trying not to spread germs. I don't know the reason. 

OK, I admit it, it was funny! Looking around the large dining area, I could see all the Wesleyan residents struggling with their insubstantial plastic utensils.  Many have some form of Palsy and shake, others like my mom, have suffered from strokes. Their tiny frail fingers trying to poke this pathetic excuse for a fork into their chicken. 

 Let's face it, Mom can only use one hand and that one hand isn't all that coordinated. Recognizing the problem, myself and several other visitors went around helping them maneuver around their meals. What the hell were they thinking, using these crappy plastic spoons and forks?   One lady at Mom's table couldn't cut up her teriaki chicken. "I can't cut anything with this!" she exclaimed. Mom just gave up and ate her yogurt and applesauce . I finally cracked when Lillian, one of Mom's friends broke her flimsy white  plastic spoon off in her ice cream.  "It's too hard" she said looking at me and her desert in dismay. Calling over one of the dining staff , I  said " My goodness, Get this woman a real silverware spoon!"

 "Perhaps you all should have thought this through a little better."

Mom got two gowns for Christmas.  I noticed she was always choosing her old gown and wasn't wearing her new gowns. "They're too long and bother my legs." she complained  My son Luke visiting for Christmas said "Don't worry Grandma, I'm sure Mom can hem them up for you and they will be fine." Mom said, "That would be great!" Why did Luke say that?  Perhaps he forgot that I have never sewn a stitch in my life. Every time I ever tried, it was like the residents of the Wesleyan and the plastic utensils. Price of gowns $$20.00.  Price of getting the hems sewn, $20.00. Problem solved! I find myself asking again, "Mom, why aren't you wearing your new gowns?" "I don't like long sleeves, they're too hot." she answered..

Perhaps I should have thought this through a little better.

Angels and Demons

Have you ever thought you met an angel on earth?  Here's what I know (which is not much) but that I learned from the bible about angels. The word angel comes from the greek word "aggelos" which means messenger. Angels are not glorified human beings. They were created all together at the same time so there are no baby angels. You don't really ever become an angel when you die. Angels often take on the form of humans. How else could you "entertain angels unaware" Hebrews 13. Sometimes they appear "white and blazing". I think I have a guardian angel by the way. He's more the "white and blazing" type and has come to give me a message several times in my life.


All angels are not good, some are bad and called fallen angels or demons. They worship the devil or they are like devils themselves. Then there were those confusing angels in Genesis 6 that had sex with the daughters of men and God didn't like that one bit so he destroyed everyone but Noah and his family with a flood. People often think these were not angels and that they were aliens. No one really knows.

What do angels do? They praise God, give messages, protect, strengthen and encourage. I've been blessed to meet some angelic like people lately in Mom's little world and some demons too. 

 Mom started getting these cards from a lady that neither of us knew. They weren't just any cards!  They were the most beautiful cards we had ever seen. She makes them herself and they have all these lovely charming and delighful little details that she lovingly creates. Not only were we perplexed by the cards but by the letters that came with them. The short little letters were written as if she were an old friend who knew Mom very well. She writes of her husband, children and grandchildren as if Mom was aquainted with them all. These cards arrived regularly and Mom really started looking forward to getting another card from her curious interesting talented new friend, Rachel.  Rachel wrote of going to the mall, taking a trip, eating in a deli, all kinds of nice things.

As annoying as this is to me, my dear mother doesn't like anything to be added to her space or moved about. Everyday, I go through the same old  monotonous tasks of straitening pictures that have been moved slightly by the cleaning people, putting the socks on the right side of the drawer and the gowns on the left, folding the throw on top of Mom's bed down to the exact size so that it only covers her feet and many other tedious wierisome tasks that Mom finds absolutely necessary in order to be satisfied for me to leave so she can watch Wheel of Fortune.  So...back to Rachel's cards.

Mom has a rule that all cards be thrown away after 1 day. She keeps them for 1 day in her drawer in a certain designated space. This is the rule for all cards and letters except Rachel's cards. Neither of us could throw them away.
Last week I walked in to the dining room to see Mom and she exclaimed "Guess who come to see me today while I was getting my hair done?" "Who did?" I said. "It was Rachel!" Mom was just beaming! Rachel had come to visit and Mom was so thrilled to actually meet her wonderfully creative friend.  Rachel also brought cookies in a beautifully crafted box that Mom can't throw away either.

Rachel is an angel who uses her talents in the sweetest caring giving way to encourage and strengthen the elderly. An exceptional Christian woman.

There's another lady that is not only angelic but a perfect example of a real true friend. When I first noticed her, I assumed she was the sister of the lady she frequently visits. She visits her most every day. As we were talking one day, I learned that she isn't family at all, she's a life long friend. In fact, the precious elderly lady she visits is not easy to visit because she isn't doing well. She shakes terribly and is becoming unaware of who she is, where she is and so on.  This lovely caring loyal and true friend cares for this ailing woman so kindly. She makes sure she has everything she needs and brings her daughter to visit too. This angelic lady is often annoyed because her ailing friend doesn't get many visits from her real family. Only God can judge but...well.. you probably know what I think of them.

Speaking of those people that God will judge, there's those who seldom visit but then throw a fit when they do. They come once or twice a year, act appalled at the care of their elderly family member, scream and complain at everyone and then they are on their way.  They remind me of "seagull"managers at work. They swoop down, poop on everything, squak squak and fly away.  Only God can judge these family visitors as well but you can tell what everyone else thinks of them.

God blesses us with wonderful angelic like people who encourage us as we grow old and are an example of selflessness to all around. The demons are necessary too I guess in some ways to remind us to be more tolerant.  Or maybe so we can appreciate the fact that there really are wonderful people around who do wonderful caring loving gestures everyday without any desire to be noticed at all. This Christmas I thank God for all the unknown unannouced people who give their presents of love and care to those who are sick and old. God bless you!

Preparing for Christmas

When I was young, my family would take a long 24 hour car trip to Louisiana on Christmas to visit my Papaw and Mamaw. We would arrive very late in the evening. My grandparents lived in the country. 

It was somewhat intimidating for a little girl from the Ohio suburbs. It was black as night can ever be. No city street lights lit up the Louisiana bayou country roads. The tired little city girl that I was, inquisitively peaking out the car window to find that there were curious creepy eyes from a numerous variety of critters all peaking just as curiously back at me. Just when it was starting to feel more like Halloween, I would see in the distance, the bright, shining, warm ,tiny home of my Mamaw and Papaw. No matter how late we got there, everyone was still up waiting for us. We'd drive up and pile out of our car, my bare feet stepping right out into chicken poop but who cares! We were home for Christmas!
The Wright's, my father's family would all come running out of the house, laughing, loving, hugging and expressing their joy in just how much I had grown. My Mamaw with her cup in her hand would always proclaim with a long slow Louisiana drawl the initials to my father's name, "Jaaaay- Dubb-Aah- Ya" and with tears in her eyes declare, "I cried a cup full a tears worrying and waiting for you to get here."

The little Louisiana shack would be decorated with lights from top to bottom and every area of the kitchen lined with Christmas candy, cakes, pies and yummy sweet southern hospitality. We could feel it, we knew that everyone had been waiting and preparing for weeks for us to come.

My mother also prepared for Christmas in a similar manner and later on as an adult, I would always gain at least 10 pounds in each visit. She made a gooey delicious fruit cake of real cherries and nuts. She labored for weeks in advance over a variety of homemade fudge, rum balls, candy, pies and cakes as well as the most mouth watering turkey and dressing anyone could ever bake. She prepared in anticipation for me and my family to drive down the lane and the same welcome of  warm hugs and love would ring out.

Unfortunately, at the moment Mom doesn't really look forward to Christmas or any other holiday for that matter. All the activity and changes in routine are more upsetting than they are enjoyable. Her stroke causes her to have trouble swallowing the Christmas goodies and knowing my mom as I do, it takes all the fun out of it when she can't give of herself or do any of the cooking. Frankly, she's been going through one of those "no" phases lately when you just can't really ever make her smile. It's been one of those weeks where I wander cheerless from her room, down the hall to the nurses station and state my all too familiar frustrations. "Please have the doctor call me on Monday, her meds need tweaked again. Nothing makes her happy and she's driving me crazy!"

The road is dark for her, there are scary creatures along the way but we know that a wonderful place is being prepared for her. Someday, somewhere else, she will be happy again and filled with joy. Her family and loved ones will all run out to meet her. Yes, there's comfort in that thought.

If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. John 14:3

Happy Holidays! Enjoy them while you have them, young and old!

Some things change and other's don't.

I can't help but laugh out loud! My husband Dan went out of town for a few days and when I told Mom, she said " Oh my! Is Eric or Zach going to come and stay with you? What are you going to do? You will be all alone!!"  Mom often makes comments like this and she is completely serious. The thought of me calling my adult sons and telling them they need to come home and stay with me because my man is out of town makes me laugh out loud. I can't help it!

How things have changed! In just one generation, things have changed a lot! 

 She says things that are completely sensible to her and completely absurd to me. 
" It's getting late! What have you planned for dinner? Dan will be getting home soon. What will he eat?"

" Don't you need to do the ironing? What will Dan wear to work?"

Here's one she mentioned lately that totally blew me away!

"Perhaps your friends husband left her for another woman because she was not a good sex partner and was refusing him. Men have urges." 

That one didn't make me laugh, it irritated me. "Mom??Men don't necessarily go out on their wives because they are not good sex partners and not giving them any, in fact most the time it's the same reason as when women have affairs. Women have urges too!" In response to that, I get a confused blank look.

Is this worth discussing? No it's not. My mom grew up in a different time and was a wonderful home maker and loving wife and mother. I really appreciate that and I am certainly lucky to have such a wonderful mom. I have worked full time outside the home for 35 years and I don't think I have been a neglectful wife or mother, only a different kind of wife and mother. Some things change.

This all makes me wonder?  When I am 87 years old, what will I say to make some nice younger woman laugh out loud ? What will I say that will make them irritated? I guess when that happens, I'm going to give them that confused blank look.  It works well and it's really not worth discussing.

 Some things change and other's  don't.

Sorry Mom. I fell down a slippery slope and took you with me.

Warning
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go.
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.


Mom and I love the above poem.  I'm feeling like that poem today, non-conforming.

Being a  preacher's kid,  I used to rebel against the term "slippery slope". Why? For those of you who did not have to go to EVERY bible class and got to stay home and watch cartoons instead, there are some important things that you can learn there. One is that you are not supposed to add or take away from the Bible. Don't think I don't know where that Bible verse is! It's Revelations 22:19 "And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book." Church members often quote this verse and then quickly add the slippery slope argument. There you go again, doing things that are questionable, adding things that are dangerously close to the edge and doing this or that should be avoided at all costs because before you know it, you are sitting smack dab in the middle of  Sodom and Gomorrah.

I still hate the slippery slope argument sometimes. I still ask "why not?" a lot. I still argue that although there is a chance that one thing may lead to another, there's another chance that nothing will happen at all. Once a PK, always a PK.
 

OK so I have to admit it. There is such a thing as a slippery slope in elderly care. I believe in it and avoid it at all costs. Watching the elderly get just one small thing, a cold, a urinary tract infection, a broken bone and then they fall down a slippery slope, one thing leading to another and in just a few days, they are dead. It happens more time than not. Something like this happened to mom recently. She didn't die but we both slipped down a slippery slope.


There was this nurse aid that Mom was complaining to me about. This person did small things that just annoyed her. These things were little complaints like not caring about what mom preferred to wear, telling mom she needed to wait until a certain time to go to the bathroom, taking things of Mom's and using them on other patients. I remember when I was young, I had a mean teacher, she did small uncaring things like this to me. My dad went up to the school and told her, "my daughter is learning from you, but the problem is she doesn't feel loved ." My mom had a similar complaint. She didn't feel loved. I decided that since none of these things were serious or urgent, I would wait until the scheduled care meeting to complain.  I guess the reason I decided to wait is because I forgot that everyone doesn't have to like me. I didn't want to be that person that complains about something every day. Also, I told myself that if I complain too much, my important complaints wouldn't be taken as seriously.  Thinking like this was a big mistake.


This nurse aid injured my Mom's knee because she was in a hurry and didn't use the proper method of transferring her. I don't think she hated my mom. She just didn't love her.  She didn't care enough about the small things. The injuring of Mom's knee caused her to have to use the mechanical lift again. Mom hates the mechanical lift. Mom was put on pain killers. Pain pills make Mom anxious and irritable. This made everything in Mom's life change. Elderly people do not react to change every well. Mom had to change her schedule, the way she goes to the bathroom, and just couldn't go at all  for three days. She had to take a shower laying down and her hair got all wet right after it was fixed at the beauty parlor. She became depressed and told me she wanted to leave this world. Her depression meds had to be changed.

This was a mistake that I will never make again.  I turned into a big you know what and everyone in the entire nursing home now knows that I could care less whether they like me or not. This happened several weeks ago and I was so angry I had to wait this long to even write about it. This particular nurse aid will never come near my mother again. Never ever let anyone take care of your loved one that has an uncaring attitude. Never worry about complaining about it. Don't try to comfort me about it and say "well you didn't know that would happen, it's not your fault." It is my fault! It's the nurse aid's fault and it's my fault too. It's certainly not Mom's fault.  I am very sorry.

That's my hard learned lesson and my advice for anyone caring for an elderly person.

The story of Nancy Wright's birth

Mom's birthday is August 1st. She will be 87 years old. This is the story of her birth. It is a true story. It is not like a blog posting but since it is her birthday, I thought it would be appropriate. This may be the first 2 chapters of a book someday, you never know.

find the story of Nancy Wright's birth below:

The flood was coming! The entire drainage area between Hutchinson and Arkansas City received excessive rains. Major flooding occurred all along the Arkansas River carrying away most of the bridges. In Huntsville Arkansas, little Ada Whitten sat on the porch of her meager home with her legs crossed Indian style. She watched the high waters coming closer and closer to her scanty little dwelling with fear in her heart. Ada was with child. She had gone out to see the water rising the day before and within it, she saw several little black snakes. Startled, she ran inside. At church that evening, she told several of her friends “I saw black snakes in the water and I’m afraid of snakes, more than the flood!” Fearfully, suspiciously, they whispered to Ada, “Do not look at those snakes, don’t speak of them or even think of them for you will mark your unborn child!” Ada reached down and felt her swelled pregnant belly, the baby moved and kicked at her as if it were warning her too. Ada sat on the church pew that night and listened intently to her beloved husband David preaching the gospel of Christ and chased away the thoughts of the black snakes by praising the Lord. She sang the hymns passionately and faith took the place of her fear.


Ada didn’t like Arkansas. Ada was proudly from Texas. She followed her husband, a preacher with immovable conviction to spread the truth and help the church grow there. She came to this foreign state and foreign people against her will but she never mentioned how miserable she was to David. Ada believed that her husband David knew what was best for her and her family and she had promised to obey him. She honored him and sat at his knee happily every evening as he prayed.

Many of the folks in these parts disagreed with David Whitten’s “Campbellite” Church of Christ gospel. They were downright hostile about it and it frightened her. David had been beaten up and run out of towns in the past after winning his Bible debates. She worried those who disagreed in this place were so backward, they would kill him! “Those ladies at Church have got me spooked over nothing!” she thought. Unfortunately, ideas of the baby being marked by the snakes kept cropping back up in her mind. Ada knowing her Bible by memory came up with Genesis 1:24-25 for c omfort. Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures after their kind: cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth after their kind.” And it was so. And God made the beasts of the earth after their kind, and the cattle after their kind, and everything that creeps on the ground after its kind; and God saw that it was good.” Ada said proudly out loud to herself, “God made snakes! Snakes are good! This baby will not be marked with evil but with good and God’s love!” There she stood proudly outside the small and meager little shack she unwillingly called home. There she stood with her hands in the air praising her almighty God, her tiny pregnant body, about to pop! It started to rain and she noticed the waters were still rising. It’s perfectly dry in Texas she thought. “You can always tell a Texan, but not much,” she giggled.

Ada started feeling the pains of labor coming on the next morning while fixing breakfast for her family. She and David had been blessed by four female children and they both secretly hoped this one was a boy. Doris, the oldest of the girls noticed her mother squirming around oddly and took over her duties. “You go and lay down; I’ll take care of it.” Doris was able to sense that the birth may be coming because she had watched while the other three were born. Ada whispered to David, “It’s coming, get the Dr.!” David then reluctantly revealed the dreadful news he already knew but was keeping to himself and hoping he didn’t have to bare. “The doctor can’t get here because of the flood. He will come as soon as he can but he can’t come now.” David looked at his small but sturdy little wife with love and as much certainty and optimism as he could muster, “We will do this without the Dr., the Lord will be with us and you and the baby will be fine!” he said.



On August 1st, 1923 in Huntsville Arkansas, the Lord blessed David and Ada Whitten with yet another little girl. She was carefully delivered by her father. She came fairly quickly with no complications. They affectionately named her Nancy Lou and oddly she was born with two little front teeth and a squiggly looking birthmark on her forehead. It looked kind of like a little black snake.

The Dr. traveling in his black buggy finally arrived a few days later at the home of David and Ada Whitten. After examining Nancy and her mother, he found them to be healthy. Ada asked about the two little teeth. “Have you ever heard of a baby born with teeth?” The Dr. reassured her, “it’s rare but it does happen and they may fall out in a few days and they might just stay right there.” He added with a smile, “Nursing could be a little painful though.” Ada was a little embarrassed by that remark and didn’t respond. “And the mark on her head?” she continued curiously. The Dr. responded kindly, “it’s a birthmark and as she grows it will move right up to the top of her head under her hair.” “Don’t worry about it, your little Nancy is just fine!” he said confidently.

The Whitten family had become so pitiable by the time Nancy was born that the little newborn girl was diapered with old second-hand cut off shirts, provided by the other church members. The newly founded Arkansas church tried their best to help but they didn’t have any money either. David was dedicated to preaching the truth and spreading the word. He had expressed to Ada many times that this task took some sacrifice.

Ada just wanted to go back home! She remembered such better days, riding to their Texas church in their covered wagon with a plate of fried chicken to eat! She recalled the little girls all dressed up nicely and enjoying their chicken without spilling one little bite of it on their Church clothes. She thought of this and what happy times they had back then. She looked sadly at Nancy’s diapers. She felt embarrassed and ashamed for little Nancy. “My child deserves better!” she cried. At that very moment, Ada did something completely out of character, something she never would have thought that she would do, something she would never before have had the nerve to do! She marched right up to her devout willful husband like a mother hen! Standing there, the persevering young woman put her hands on her tiny hips obstinately, looked her husband right in the eye and declared her wishes. “Nancy Lou needs real diapers and we are going home!”

The poor little Whitten family moved back to Texas shortly after that exceptionally rare motherly declaration. David, the spiritual leader and father that he was, knew what was best for his family. They couldn’t live on faith alone. Not this time, not now! They needed to move home where Ada’s parents could help them. David knew he would find somewhere to preach the gospel there and farm for money like he did before. From then on, Nancy Lou giggled and cooed in her new bright white cotton diapers.

It was David’s decision to move back. Ada’s maternal instinct helped to inspire it. The new little mother was happy when Nancy’s two rare teeth fell out. It made nursing easier. New baby teeth came in and her strange little squiggly birthmark disappeared under her blonde braided hair just as the Dr. said it would. Nancy Lou was a good baby with a gentle temperament, just like her dear mother. Ada affectionately patted her lovely child on the head from time to time saying, “Nancy Lou, you were marked with God’s love and he has so many good plans for you!” God did have plans for Nancy Lou! Wonderful plans! Her parents with God’s help would make certain of that!



                                                         ###

What's to argue about? Not much.

"Thus says the Lord, who created you, do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you:and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you: when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. you are precious in my sight, and honored , and I love you." Isaiah 43:1-2,4.

This blog is about elderly people who for some reason have ended up needing 24 hour nursing care. None of us really want to end up there but we may find ourselves there someday or at least visiting someone we love.. By visiting my mom every day, I  learn and observe similarities that I feel the need to express. For example: What's to argue about?

I'm certain you can think of a time in your life when something happened, something tragic, something life changing and it made you stop. You stopped arguing with your family, battling with your ex, bumping heads with your boss or facing off with your coworker. For a brief moment in time, all the bickering ceased!  In my case, it was when my teenage son was hit by a car. Before that,  my ex and I had been constantly arguing and in complete disagreement about everything!  It had come to the point to where I didn't even have an emergency phone number because he didn't want me to have it. I had to have the operator call his blocked number and leave this message: "Luke's been hit by a car, he's going into surgery, what ever we were angry about, it doesn't matter now. Just hurry to the hospital, our son's been hurt!"

Don't you wish that moment in time just remained constant?  There wouldn't be any wars, any neighbor's fuming, any inflamed emails about politics, no church disputes, no divorce, no family grudges, no resentful co workers and no indignant bosses. Instead just peace!

  Elderly people seldom argue about politics, religion, family, exes or anything else. They watch the news, they know who the president is, they still believe in their religion but they just don't argue about it anymore. They talk about the important things in life, like love and family, how good God is. What's important? Waking up, eating, singing, praying, playing, working, exercising, living and breathing. It's simple to be happy!  Have they come to the realization that they can't change other people's minds? Is that it?  One of my Mom's elderly  friends , a veteran and a gentleman described it perfectly while shaking his cowboy hatted head sadly and discribing his son's total disdain for the politics of the day, " Yelling at the TV? What good does that do!"

That's what I love about this stage of life! It's a "respect your differences" argue free zone. It's calm, collected, neutral and friendly. Please God, let it rub off on me!  Will I care about this when I'm old? If the answer is no, then I'm going to stop being so angry about it. Dear God,  "Grant me to accept the things I cannot change. Change the things I can. And the ability to know the difference." Elderly people seem to know the difference and they are preparing  to go somewhere else! Somewhere better, somewhere God lives.

What has no end?

What has no end? Well not this life…anyway.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”

Revelation 22:13

What has no end? God and God’s love is eternal. The other answer is “a doughnut.”

There’s a nice tall older gentleman in my water aerobics class. He’s in great shape for his age and never misses a class. As we were bobbing up and down in the water doing our required amount of leg kicks, he said to me, “Life expectancy in the USA is 70 years old. If you get there, be happy! That means you did good! It’s all downhill after that.”

People who are older and I mean obviously nearing the “end” insist that their day have a set beginning, a set middle and a set end. My mom likes to stick to an established routine. She does not desire any spontaneity in her life. Variety is a bad word ! She wants it all to be the same way, the same time every day. She even dislikes it if I’m pushing her in her wheelchair back to her room and I decide to take a different route. The minute I start to turn, her feet plant themselves down on the floor to stop the movement of the wheelchair and as I’m about to topple over her because of this abrupt move, she says “whoa, why are we going this way? No!!! I don’t want to go this way!”

There’s a nice old lady at Mom’s dining room table that must have chocolate ice cream for dessert every meal. About halfway through the meal, she starts wondering where her chocolate ice cream is. This lady never says anything else throughout the meal but half way through, she takes the big effort of holding her bony little hand up in the air and waving, she insists, “Where’s my chocolate ice cream? Where’s my chocolate ice cream? Chocolate ice cream? ” She says this over and over until someone notices and gives her some cold creamy chocolate ice cream! The same thing happens every day, “chocolate ice cream” like clockwork.

Another petite elderly lady with tiny little glasses and a big happy personality can suddenly turn into a big grumpy if her bath’s not on time. As I walk toward her she sighs “Oh, oh, oh, no”. Of course you and I both know that this means I should come over and touch her shoulder and ask her why. She can’t hear so I lean over and speak loudly into her ear, “What’s wrong?” She then scrunches up her wrinkly little lips, looks at me with sorrowful teary eyes and squeals “Oh they didn’t come and give me a bath today until three o’clock!” "it just ruined my day!" Her bath is supposed to be at two o clock. Old ladies always watch the clock! If you are late, they hate it!

OK, so here’s the truth!

All this makes you want to roll your eyes and say, “Big deal, your bath’s late, Don’t worry about it! You are an old lady anyway and your bath time is not the most important thing in the world! “Or “Shut up! You’ll get your ice cream, there’s plenty of it, this is the United States of America and there is no shortage of chocolate Ice cream! “Or “Get over it! We are taking a different route to your room? I looked it up on map quest and turning here will get you there just as fast!”

I admit it! Sometimes I DO say that! When I do, I get different reactions, Sometimes the reaction is a look of surprise and then a smile. Sometimes it's not.

Most the time,  I say what I know that I should say, which is “Bless your heart, pick your feet up and we will go the way you want to, the same way as we go every day, Your so right Darlin, it’s just terrible that your bath was an hour late, those bath people should be ashamed of themselves for making you wait and All right sweety, let’s get you some chocolate ice cream, you deserve your chocolate ice cream right now!”

Old people do have an end and it’s soon, there’s no reason to argue with them, if possible, it’s best to just go with the flow.

“Whatever you want mom, whatever it is, lets’ do it. I love you so much”

How do you do that sitting flat down in a chair?

At my age there's 2 things I have learned.
1. never pass a restroom AND
2..never trust a fart!"

My brother Johnny told my Mom that joke and she just cackled and giggled at it.
 I'm just going to say it strait out honest! Old  age is about BM. I know it's not what people like to think about, talk about or usually post in a blog but it's a problem that can't be politely ignored.  If you did, you would not be honest. We all know BM is not so bad for babies. We buy little diapers, wipe them down and powder off their little sweet bottoms. Then as we get older, it's something we just deal with but still humans figured out a long time ago, first with outhouses then toilets. We just flush it away and that's that. Then the day comes for lots of old folks when it becomes less private again.  This less private thing happened to Mom recently and it's a dreaded reality to elderly people. It's called losing your bathroom privileges . Yes using the bathroom is a privileges. Taking that away makes an old person feel defenseless, and without dignity.

This week the staff decided they couldn't help mom to the bathroom anymore. She's getting weaker,( dead weight ) and too heavy to transport from the wheel chair to the toilet. They now have to transport her from the chair to her bed with a large mechanical lift that picks her up in a sling. This lift does not work with a toilet in the bathroom. Mom found out she was put on the mechanical lift which she hates anyway and then realized it meant losing her bathroom privileges. Mom cried . I cried  with her.  We complained, cried, reevaluated, moved her to a new room, cried, had meetings about it, more meetings were held without us because we were crying, we saw the Dr., talked to physical therapy and just about anything else we could think to do. Solutions and compromises were made but not without lots of change. She had to move to a new room. She isn't thrilled with the new room either. She has to get used to new roomates and misses her old one. Her old roomate saw me and she cried too!,  She waved her little boney gloved hands around in the air and belted out, "I hate to get a new roomate. You always have to break them in again." Change is never considered a good thing to old people.

 Finally as a part of the compromises that needed to be made, the powers that be decided Mom could be transported into a larger bathroom down the hall once a day. She now has bathroom privileges back! We were much happier with this, even if it's only once a day. Thank goodness Mom is on a regular schedule regarding the you know what and usually goes you know where around the same time. Let's face it, old age really is all about BM!  Life for mom can be made miserable because of it, the more of it, the less of it, where to go, what to put it in. It's gross. When it comes to the concept of just doing it in your pants? Mom would not, could not do it!  The reality of it was stated firmly by my dear mother to me  "How do you do that sitting flat down in a chair?" Good question? The logistics of that would disturb most anyone.