What are you afraid of?

This is my mother Nancy passing out Candy at the Wesleyan for trick or treaters. Always a wonderful time for the residence and the kids alike.

It's that time of year. Time to dress in silly outfits, carve pumpkins and tell scary stories. This will be the 3rd  year Mom has been at the Wesleyan in Georgetown for Halloween. Usually around 100 kids , family and family of the staff , arrive for a night of trick or treating at the Wesleyan. I just can't describe how tender and sentimental an event it really is. It always makes me dewy eyed when I think about it. There's nothing better for OLD people than YOUNG people!

Oddly, the night the young trick or treaters come , the senior residents are energetic and wide awake!

Ordinarily by that time of night, the senior residents are wanting to go to bed. Of course they all want to go to bed at the exact same time. This doesn't work out because there's not enough staff to possibly do that but every day irregardless, they  still urgently push those "give me assistance" buttons over and over , asking to be put to bed.
One of Mom's roommates, forgets where her "give me assistance" button is. She goes around the room picking up her remote to the TV and pushing that, she pushes on her bed post,  she finds my cell phone on mom's dresser and pushes that. "I need to go to bed!", "Can I get some help here!"  she squawk's.

What are you most afraid of? That's the question I've been asking residents for the last couple of weeks.

From my little amount of research. most the responses to that question were the same answers you would get from people of any age.  Snakes, spiders, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, fires and ghosts.  The most common answer was death.  A 99 year old man I asked explained it best!

 Mom's friend Fred,  still able to walk with the help of a walker and obviously very stubborn about losing his independence, told me this: "You see, before you live in a nursing home, you are most afraid that someone will put you there!" "After that, you are just afraid of dying, not the part that happens after, just the actual dying part."

Who isn't afraid of death! Death is the ultimate unknown experience, something we all have to face . We go through that veil of death all alone even if there are many loved ones around us.
Here's a comforting thought! Medical studies say that because of the altered body chemistry, there are moments of euphoria right before you die. I'd say we can thank God for that!

Happy Halloween to you! Here's some (kind of) spooky stuff...

 I've learned that it's very common for people in hospice to see their relatives that have passed on just as if they were actually there in the room.  My opinion is that perhaps these loved ones are just hallucinations or perhaps they are spirits who are really there just trying to comfort them, encouraging them to cross over that river and not be afraid.

I've also heard  there's a well known ghost story about a haunted "give me assistance" button that goes off as if it were pressed but when the staff responds, it's just an empty room. Who pressed it? (I can assure you it wasn't Mom's roommate.) :)  Bwaahhahhahaa!

The hearing is the last to go.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Come unto Me and rest;
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down,
Thy head upon My breast."
I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary and worn and sad;
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He has made me glad.


"I heard the voice of Jesus say"  one of Mom and Dad's favorite hymns. We can all hope that when we die, this is the voice we hear. 


I was talking to a very knowledgeable nurse yesterday and she told me something comforting. She said that people need to tell anyone who is dying how they feel right then because "the hearing is the last to go.." I thought to myself, is that just something said to make us feel better? Doing some research on the subject, I found that it's widely believed and proven that the hearing of a dying person IS the last thing to go. What if they are deaf? If they are deaf, they are still deaf but very sensitive to touch. What does this mean? Why is it comforting? 


Thinking how fun it would be,  I brought a beautiful picture of my parents on their wedding day to show Mom. Mom wheeled around the Westleyan, showing the picture to all her friends. Of course they all responded in love describing  what a good looking couple they were and how in love they looked. After returning to Mom's room, a tear came to my eye. I studied the picture and said "I still miss him, from time to time, I still miss him."  To my surprise, she started to wail. " Oh Mom, I'm sorry I know you miss him too." I added trying to pacify her and thinking I shouldn't have ever brought that picture in, considering this result.


She sobbed,"No, it's that he died of a broken heart. He didn't think I loved him."  Hugging my mother and kissing her cheek, "No, Mom he died of leukemia." Mom answered, "He didn't think I loved him after my stroke, he told me he didn't feel like I loved him.."she sobbed.  "Well Mom, you had a massive stroke and he had leukemia! That's certainly not very romantic. He was suffering at the time and that  made him say or feel that feeling just for one moment , just that one moment. He knew Mom, in his heart, after 65 years of marriage, you cared deeply for him!." She calmed down as we continued to discuss what a loving wife she was and how Dad knew that. 

Mom has no reason to feel guilty, none at all , we all know that but it made me consider, what about those who do? What about those who were not so kind,  not caring or forgiving enough to a loved one in the past? What if you are that person who exists in most of our families who has held a terrible grudge against someone for years over something really horrible or something really stupid but you  still need to be graceful, love them, release them and let it go?  What can you do if you have done something  you know has hurt this seemingly lifeless loved one in their last moments? It's not too late. 


Just in case, to let you know, the hearing is the last to go. 

                 

"I can't remember!' "Perhaps you will remember tomorrow."

Wright Family

The picture above is of the Wright Family, taken in Louisiana  in the 1960s.. Mom is standing in front of Dad around the center in the back row. I'm all the way to the right in the front row pulling up my dress. My two brothers are in this picture also. Below, I reposted the unusual story of Nancy Wright's birth, in celebration of her birthday August 1st. I plan on writing about the rest of her childhood next but haven't had time. Last week, when I ask her about a time when she lived in New Mexico, she said she couldn't remember. She just said this over and over,  "I can't remember" and got a frustrated look on her face. Trying not to make her more upset, I just replied calmly, "Mom, your just tired today, Perhaps you will remember tomorrow." I asked for three days and finally she did remember. So I better get a move on if I'm going to write more of her story. We are running out of time AND memory it seems. I hope  you enjoy the story of Mom's birth , it's unusual. 


The Story of Nancy Wright's Birth. 

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! 


                                                                               ###

You can't always get what you want..

When one door closes, another one opens. The actual quote by Alexander Graham Bell goes like this.
"When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us."
I often go with this version..."When one door closes, sometimes you have to bang ,bang , bang the next one open with a sledgehammer or find a window."  This is more of a "
sledgehammer but found a window story." 

When Mom first had a stroke, her anxiety was terrible. She had panic attacks. Who wouldn't panic? You suddenly do not have any control over half of your body and you can barely talk! 


Her anxiety is still an issue 3 years after the stroke.  She has to suffer this problem on a daily basis. She becomes anxious every time something like lunch is 5 minutes late. She becomes anxious if the med-aid hasn't brought her meds, even if the med-aid is only bringing her crushed up calcium mixed in pudding. She becomes anxious if her bed isn't made just right, if her bed isn't exactly a certain amount of inches away from the wall so her night light doesn't work properly. She becomes anxious if her sweater is being washed and hasn't come back from the laundry on time. She becomes anxious if she is not placed exactly in the middle of the bed. Want more examples? Naah, that's enough.


We went through an incredibly anxious spell recently where Mom could not be distracted from this anxiety. She couldn't really have a conversation, she was always miserable and worried. It breaks my heart to see her this way !


Deciding that giving her more meds was no longer a solution, I said to the nurses "I'm sick of doing that! Giving me some meds might be a solution, I don't know."  In fact, Mom was also starting to say things that were not really like her at all and that was upsetting as well. Every once in a while, she would actually say something mean! That is just not like my mother! Not ever before like my mother! I ask about alternatives treatments. I was informed about a psychiatrist that works specifically with stroke victims and anxiety. That's great! Let's try something different!


I was excited to hear what the psychiatrist had to say! The pschiatrist evaluated Mom and diagnosed her. He said she is starting to get dementia and when a stroke victim gets dementia, they often become more anxious. He prescribed a different type of depression medication and a patch that is time released and will slow down the dementia. So the psychiatrist was a good idea not because he could listen to her problems, and help her with his psychiatry as I was hoping. If he didn't find this, her dementia would have been diagnosed later and came upon her faster.  When it comes to my Mom, we have always been able to say, "At least she still has her mind."  We want to continue being able to say that as long as possible even if it's an anxious mind. 


So let's just go with that... and be happy about it.


As Mick Jagger of The Rolling Stones so eloquently put it, "You can't always get what you want, But if you try sometimes well you just might find,You get what you need."

..

I'm Scared to Death!

I'm selling and buying a house in the same 30 days. For those of you who do not know, there are lots of little details and major stress that goes on when buying or selling a house. We are doing both at the same time. I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Going to see Mom makes me stop for a minute.

The other day Mom tilted her head to one side and asked "What exactly is it that you do?" I enthusiastically started explaining executive search, software developers, RF Engineers, what they do, how I find the one's who are hard to find, then assist in negotiations regarding their salary, bonus , vacations, relo costs and so on. She listened quietly and then replied, "so you just talk a lot." (I have never heard a better or more simple explaination of my job.)

Still worried and stressed about the inspector, the septic tank, the roof, the carpenter ants, I kissed her goodbye and hurried down the hall to leave. An elderly man I love who visits his wife everyday stopped me to talk. He had a very sad look in his eyes. His wife had stopped eating for the last 2 days and she was sleeping all the time. He looked at me with fear in the eyes and as I hugged him, he said. "I'm scared to death!"

You know, that old man just put my pest control worries to shame.

Of course, then my car broke down on the way home :) Oh well.

'The Good Wife's Guide" Bible Times, 1950s and Now.

(This is a recent picture of Mom in the Rose garden at the Wesleyan.)


Below is a quote from the 1950 Good Housekeeping article "The Good Wife's Guide"


"Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.  After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction. - Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him."  


(Doesn't that just make you wanna gag?!!) It's awful.




Let's go back to the "Good Wife's Guide" Bible Times. 


Perhaps the differences in what is considered a "Good Wife"  was on my mind when in 7th grade I wrote an article about Proverbs 31:10-31. "The virtuous woman."  My father put it in the Church bulletin!  I decided I wanted to be a business woman like her, not a poor dominated house wife! This proverb says, "Who can find a virtuous woman for she is more valuable than rubies"  This virtuous woman of Bible times didn't clean her house and take care of her children all by herself.   She was the boss of their business.  It seems as if she did everything!  She had the best of both worlds. That Bible times " Virtuous Woman" was a workhorse! Poor thing!  
 I don't want to be her!   That's awful too.


 It's time for the "Good Wife's guide" 2011.


My husband and I have been going through the process of selling our home and buying a new one. I work full time, so does he. It's always been like that. Ordinarily in our marriage, when an important purchase or sale like this is made, I'm the one who deals with it. (Negotiation is one of my strong points.) Everyday I go in and tell Mom all the different things we are deciding with, explaining how we decided the starting listing price, how we reacted to the first offer, how we counter- offered and so on.


Mom doesn't seem to understand what I am talking about!  She just shakes her head and looks at me like I'm silly.  Finally I asked her , "Didn't you and Dad have to go through all these stresssful dealings  when you sold your houses? Don't you remember?" She answered , "why of course not! I didn't even ask what we sold them for? Your dad took care of all that."  No stress, no mess! 


You know, those 1950's house wives had it pretty good!  All those appliances were invented to make house hold chores easier, they could do other things after they cleaned their house,  they had more time to enjoy their children, hobbies,  family and Church.  They didn't even worry about whether they got enough "quality time". ( Yes, there was all that macho stuff but in my Mom's case, my dad was a nice man.) Besides that, those 1950's guys were the work horses working long hours and they got so stressed out trying to take care of everything, they had heart attacks and died way before their unstressed wives. Those women were taken care of and didn't have to work or deal with it. They were put on a pedistal. They had those men working for them. 


What have we done? What did we get? We turned ourself back into female equal to men work horses! Goofy Feminists!  Thanks a lot, for the freedom to work hard and have an opinion. She doesn't have to say it! It rings out loud and clear. 
Thanks Mom for pointing things like that out to me every once in awhile...putting things in a different perspective... in your own little way! :)

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!