Like Children

The other day as I was transporting my daughter and granddaughters somewhere, we noticed little three-year-old Mae singing in the back seat. She was repeating her song over and over. My daughter commented that she was like her grandpa. (Dean, as I've indicated earlier, is a master song-repeater, of the "broken record" variety, getting stuck on the same song for days and weeks.)

I corrected her in saying that she wasn't copying Grandpa, but Grandpa was the one who was copying his granddaughter, and we both got a chuckle. Yes, repetitious singing is normal for a three-year-old, but it wasn't normal...well, you know the rest. There's nothing "normal" about dementia, as those who've lived with it can attest. Keeping your sense of humor is one of the ways you can help keep your sanity though.

I have found it humorous that one of Dean's latest songs he's been humming and singing is "Rock-a-bye Baby". Usually his songs are ones he's heard lately, so I couldn't understand how this one got into his brain. It was so different from the hymns he usually gets attached to.

After talking about Grandpa copying Julia though, it dawned on me that he may have heard the girls singing "Rock-a-bye Baby" to their dolls, or maybe he started singing it with them as they were trying to rock their doll-babies to sleep. So, this would confirm the copying-his-granddaughter theory.

Jesus told us to be as little children, loving and trusting. Dean is reminding us of that every day.

Dean holding one of his granddaughters a few years back.

Passwords

The past few days I've had the pleasure of having our oldest granddaughter stay with us. She and Grandpa get along somewhat better than the youngest one, who's three, right now. They don't butt heads quite as much, and I'll let you come to your own conclusions on that one.

Nevertheless, having a five-year-old around this week brought out my old schoolteacher vibes, and I was anxious to test her reading powers. Their weekly library visits seem to be making them quite the literary types already. But I was curious about whether the oldest was ready for any sight words.

My sister, a substitute teacher, told me about an idea for sight words that seemed quite effective. A teacher put their sight words on the doorpost of the classroom and each student had to say them as they came in the room.

So we tried that method here at home and had some surprising results. The words we chose were put on the bathroom and kitchen doors, and all family members had to remember to say them before entering these rooms. Lorraine and I both thought Grandpa would need to be reminded the most to say the "passwords" because he's so forgetful; but we were amazed that he almost always remembered to say them. And not only that, he reminded us to say them more than we had to remind him!

This activity reminded me of a similar one that the children of Israel were instructed to perform during the Passover. They were told to put blood on the doorposts of their homes, as a reminder of the blood that was sacrificed for them to be freed from the bonds of slavery. The "password" for them was special indeed, and we are still told to be mindful of Christ's blood that was shed for us, which frees us from sin.

What a teaching tool that must have been for the Israelites, and still is for every follower of God today. It should be on the mind of every Christian as they participate in the Communion Service, instituted by Jesus at the Last Supper.

We all need a reminder now and then.

Praise Him, Praise Him

This is the third week that Dean hasn't felt up to attending his adult day program, which he normally goes to on Tuesdays and Fridays. He's not been sleeping so good at night, but makes up for it during the day. It seems to be related to his high blood pressure readings during the night though, so I have hopes of resolving this issue someday with medication adjustments.

Just to get him out of the house this morning, I suggested that we go to the grocery store that his day program goes to once a month. They have a sit-down cafeteria there and it's nice for the clients, Dean's friends for years now, to associate with some of the regular customers there.

They were all happy to see Dean and see how he's been doing. And they are always happy to see me. Evidently Dean has told them so much what an angel I am, that they have come to actually believe it. I get a lot of good affirmation from that crowd. Even though we have had little interaction over the years, they act like I'm their best friend.

This reminded me that through our praise of Jesus, we can actually make Him feel close to others too. They can come to appreciate Him as much as we do. The nicest praise we receive is that given when we aren't around to hear it. In other words, it's important to praise Him everywhere, not just in church.

As Oft...In Remembrance of Me

This week at church we had communion, which is a practice held in common with most Protestant churches. Our denomination holds this special service quarterly, and is a reverent, symbolic portrayal of the last supper of Jesus and His disciples in the upper room, right before His betrayal and death on the cross.

Dean was excited when I told him about it happening today, and said he was looking forward to celebrating it with a pastor or elder this afternoon, as they have started doing for him and other homebound members, since he stopped attending church about a year ago.

As with several church denominations, our communion, or partaking of the bread and "wine", is open to all Christians who may be attending. Since Jesus wanted us all to be as one, we welcome all who choose to share in this celebration of the death of Christ.

We also encourage soul searching prior to receiving the emblems, and this is done in a very demonstrative way in Seventh-day Adventist churches. We offer a footwashing ceremony, or service of humility, as it's been called in other churches of long ago. In this simple practice, we are admonished to put away all past differences among ourselves and to serve each other in the most humble way. The way that Jesus demonstrated for us and even told us to do, in remembrance of Him. With a towel about His waist, our Savior humbly bowed before each of the disciples and washed their feet too.

Just as the un-fermented bread and un-fermented wine, symbolic of being without sin, are done in His remembrance, we humbly bow before another church member, and with basin and towel in hand in a smaller room outside the sanctuary, wash each other's feet, and offer prayer together.

Recalling the service today, I too am excited about getting a "repeat performance" when the pastor or elder arrives this afternoon. "As oft as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come." I Cor. 11:26

Place for a Chair

Dean had his Christmas today when they finally delivered his lift chair. Long before Thanksgiving, when the home health nurse first suggested we try to get him one, she said not to get excited because we might not get one till Christmas.

I didn't believe that it would ever take that long. Especially after the medical supply store said they could deliver one the same day, just as soon as they got the proper documentation for it. Little did I know, the emphasis that was placed on the word "proper".

After preparing the place in the living room for the chair, I've been playing phone tag with the medical supply store and his doctor's office for several weeks now. Towards the end, I HAD to be the mediator. I don't think they were on speaking terms from the sounds of agitation in their voices. But we finally got the "proper" coding for his chair approved by Medicare, and Dean got his best Christmas present just two days late. It was well worth the wait. It's a nice chair.

Many of us are looking for Christ's Second Coming with the same excitement as we had for the chair. The wait is hard, and many are losing hope that it will ever come. But, God is using us as His mediators, and soon everything in the universe will be "proper" and the long-looked-for event will take place. We had better have a place prepared for it in our hearts, just like I had a place prepared in my living room.

No Excuse

Dean has been asking several times if we could ride around and look at Christmas lights some evening, which was rather surprising. He's never been too interested in them other years. But tonight I set out to give him his wish. I had heard of an impressive light show at a house on the outskirts of town.

Even before we got to the first McDonald's on our prepared route though, Dean began hinting that a hamburger or a shake would be nice too, which confirmed my suspicions that he may have had another motive for his budding holiday spirit.

We got to the address I was given though, after a few detours, and the cars in front of us began slowing down and finally stopped in front of the light extravaganza. We were just beginning to see what we'd come for, when Dean started informing me that he needed to use the bathroom and we'd better head back home--quick. Remembering his recent bouts with diarrhea, I passed all the stopped vehicles and we barely got to see the light show, as we quickly sped home for his requested "pit stop".

As we almost reached our driveway, Dean, whose memory has been worse than usual lately, wondered why we were coming home so soon. I reminded him that he was needing to use the bathroom, but that we at least got out to the house with all the lights. He then chided me for not telling him the purpose of our ride and that he would have looked longer at the lights while we were out there had he known it was our destination and purpose.

I'm not sure how many emotions I was smothering about then, but I'm sure my hair has several more gray strands after our little outing.

I know God has been forthright to me about my destination and purpose in life too. It's all right there in the Bible. Jesus, the Light of the World, is there for all of us to see. There's really no excuse for not taking a long, unhurried look.

Snow in the Morning

My life has slowed down considerably, as far as outside-the-home activities, since Dean's recent weight, sleep, and drug issues. To compound our isolated status, a blizzard is in the forecast for tonight. Everyone is making their final trips to the store, gearing up for the snow we've all been waiting for and dreading at the same time. The beauty of seeing new snow on the ground in the morning will make staying home worth it for awhile at least.

I look forward to another beautiful sight too. Seeing my loved ones on Resurrection Morning. Today, half out of boredom, I moved a bookcase from the living room into my bedroom. On it were pictures and mementos of my dear, departed parents. The caregiving for them was also marked with boredom and isolation--that time in their hospital room.

I'm tired of being isolated from loved ones, but especially from my Jesus. That will be the sweetest sight of all on Resurrection Morning. Jesus coming in the clouds to bring us all home with Him. And what a glorious, heavenly home that will be.

Minnie at her watchdog post--foot of my bed! She's such good company too!

Remember the Landmarks

I just happened to find myself downtown today, looking for a parking space somewhere near the State Office Building, so I could attend a coalition meeting for caregivers there. Having just changed purses before I left the house, I neglected to include in it any coins, so was hard-pressed how I was going to get parked and inside before the meeting started.

Finally, I saw a parking space close enough that offered easy access and room for the big Lincoln I drive (my dad's old car). The meter showed I had about a half hour left, so I planned on finding my meeting place inside and letting someone know that I would have to get a dollar changed and get my meter fed before I got a ticket. I'd just be a little late for the meeting.

Wearing a visitor tag fastened to my coat, those I was meeting with cautioned me to just act like I knew where I was going and I could get in and out of the building easy enough to take care of this business, without having to return and pick up another visitor tag.

No problem. I thought I indeed did know what I was doing and where I was going. But when I took one of the many the elevators back down to the first floor, and hurried outside to feed the meter, I suddenly found myself lost, which was preferable to my car being lost, heaven forbid. Although that thought did occur to me as I proceeded to walk frantically all around the block to the other side of the building, where I hoped my car would be obediently parked.

As I made my way back inside and up to the fifth floor, I consciously remembered landmarks this time, so I could truly know where I was going, instead of taking the wrong door out, when it was time to go home. I'm ashamed to admit that I was concentrating so hard on finding the correct way out later though, that I neglected to return my visitor tag.

Let's just say that at that point I knew where I was going, but didn't know what I was doing.

How easy it was for me to get lost in the small confines of a city block today. I pray I can do better on my trip to our heavenly home. It's obvious that my only chance is with Jesus Christ, my Divine Navigator and G.P.S. And how nice that at this heavenly destination, there won't be any visitor tags to worry about returning.

Winners AND Losers

I can't wait for the news coverage of the election tonight. I really enjoy the suspense of the outcome. We are definitely focused on the winner in this presidential contest. What is really sad to think about though is that someone will be a loser. You only have a 50-50% chance, especially with an election this close. And what will that be like for the one who doesn't win the election? After all the effort and money that goes into a campaign, it must be excruciatingly disappointing when the other side wins.

As a caregiver, I have grown accustomed to feeling the losses of someone who has lost a great deal of normalcy in his life. People with disabilities of any kind can easily fall into the category of loser, without someone by their side assisting and encouraging them to keep trying.

Our main purpose as Christians should also be to reach out to people who are losing out on eternal life. Because there is no greater loss than missing out on heaven. Introducing people to the greatest campaign manager of all time, Jesus Christ, is not that difficult a task. He will take over their life, just like real campaign managers do, and success is guaranteed. None of us have to be losers of heaven. We elect, or choose, to be.

Holiday Fever

Yesterday I was home alone, with Dean away at his adult day program. I was suddenly aware that it was the second of November. I was getting in the Christmas mood a bit and decided to check out the closet that houses our decorations.

I know most people put up all their decorations at once and probably a lot closer to December than this, but with Dean so resistant to change, I decided maybe just the nativity scene would quiet my decorating cravings for now and not unnerve him too much. Besides, our first thoughts of Christmas should be about baby Jesus anyway, right?

I'm glad the Thanksgiving holiday comes before Christmas. It should ideally put us in a thankful state of mind, before the giving season in December begins. Sadly, many are teaching children that Christmas is mostly about them and getting lots of gifts.

So with that off my mind, here are my two decorating attempts this week. I hope they help our family keep their perspective about what and who these two winter holidays are really about.

I've had this particular nativity scene for years. My sister sent it up to me from Florida several years ago. It's probably not an expensive one, but it is so realistic looking that I just love it. And she knew I would!

I needed to clean off my dining room table anyway, so I decided a Thanksgiving-looking centerpiece for it would be nice. Dean made the cornucopia one year at his adult program, I made the ceramic dish that says "Give us this day our daily bread" many years ago, and my sister-in-law made the cloth that says the same thing. The lace underneath was my mother's.

 So, all in all, it's about family!

Dad's Desk

A much overdue "to-do list" task got completed yesterday. I totally cleaned my dad's desk area. It was surprising all the office supplies I discovered I had available. When my dad, who passed away two years ago, went to the office store, he purchased enough to last, well, for more than his lifetime.

I keep the top of his desk for mementos of my dad. So many memories came rushing back as I rearranged and dusted the items. He spent many happy hours at his desk, getting to know his computer, but more importantly, keeping in touch with friends and family. Eventually their dining room turned into his computer room, much to my mom's dismay. But she was willing to sacrifice it for the worthy cause of keeping dad happy.

No matter how hard I try, I will never think of it as anything other than "dad's desk". In my mind, it will always belong to him. And shouldn't I likewise view all my possessions as belonging to God? It makes me pause to thank God for entrusting me with so much. And that's why I try to have "mementos" of God in every room too. Pictures of Jesus or books about Him on every shelf, even a framed poem about Him in my bathroom, to remind me of the real owner. I don't want my earthly father's influence forgotten, and the same goes for God's, the Giver of it all.

Dad's corner

Filthy Rags

While Dean was occupied in the living room today, I sneaked off to the bedroom to arrange his clothes to wear for tomorrow. For years now, I've had to put his clothes in the hamper on the sly because he never thinks they're dirty enough.

As I was changing the suspenders on his jeans and transferring his pocket contents to the clean pair, I thought of how many times Jesus has probably taken care of me when I wasn't aware of it, when I didn't trust Him enough with my care, or when I thought I knew what was best for me when I really didn't.

Dean is so vocal about telling people what a good wife and caregiver I am. I need to do likewise and let as many as possible know what a wonderful Lord and Savior I have.

Jesus has changed my filthy rags to clean ones more times than I can count. But only because of our love for each other. My love for Jesus and Dean's love for me. You have to love and trust your caregiver.

Surgeries Compared

Talk about an easy surgery. Nothing to fear about laser eye surgery, at least the kind I had today. If you can stand drops in your eyes, you can stand having a laser light drill a hole in your iris. It really was nothing, compared to a total spinal fusion, for instance.

The spinal fusion for my scoliosis when I was twelve was so major, they had to do it in two parts too. First the lower back, then the upper. I was flat in bed for a month, followed by six months in a body cast. Fifty years later, I still remember those details. And the pain was almost unbearable right after the surgeries.

So, even though this eye surgery for my narrow angle glaucoma was in two separate parts, one for each eye, I was pleased that the discomfort was minimal. I even drove myself home just an hour later. If it can just keep my glaucoma in check and prevent an acute attack, it seems totally worth it. Just like the spinal fusion has kept my curvature from getting noticeably worse after all these years.

Our conversion stories, how we individuals come to the Lord, are different too. Just like these different surgeries. Depending on the sin to be overcome, the past experiences in our life, and many other variables, all of us have different stories to tell. But whether the pain is little or great, whether the recovery time is short or long, the end result of turning to Christ is all that counts.

When you know you have a sin problem at any point in your Christian walk, take it to the Great Physician. He will know just what kind of surgery you need to be well and whole again.

sixth grade, in my last cast--second row, I'm the one sitting right in front of the teacher

That True Light

Today I had to go in for another field vision test, so the ophthalmologist could know how to treat my glaucoma. This particular test was different from the others I did. With one eye wearing a patch, you looked at this little light and clicked a button every time you saw a flash, just a small pinpoint of light anywhere away from the light you were focused on. But I found it very hard not to avert my eyes to where the tiny flashes were coming from.

As I walked back to my car, I thought more about that difficult test and how it is so much like us to find it hard to keep our eye on Christ. Those little distracting flashes are so easy to look at, taking our eyes off "that true Light that lighteth every man that cometh in the world." John 1:9

Quiet Rest

It has been so nice to be able to sit outdoors again since the temperatures have cooled down. I spent considerable time on the back deck today, reading and relaxing. Unfortunately, the air conditioner compressor, right next to the deck, goes on and off while I'm sitting there and the noise level of it is somewhat distracting. When it shuts off, the peace and quiet is noticeably contrasted. But I'm sure I would notice even more quiet if I were in a place where no traffic noises were heard. Wouldn't that be nice?

I wonder how many levels of quiet there are. At times I think I'm having peace and quiet time in my spiritual life, but then the Spirit really washes over me and suddenly I'm in a whole different level of contentment. It will take an eternity to experience all the levels of peace God has for us. But I think the ultimate will be when we are actually in the presence of our Father in our heavenly home.

I can't wait to sit on the back porch of my mansion. On a swing or in rockers with Jesus Himself. It can't get any quieter or sweeter than that.

Blind Faith

I found myself in two places today that were oddly related. First at the optometrist's, I took the third vision test for glaucoma and will hear the results of it when the doctor is back on Friday. Right after that I went to Christian Record Services for my weekly volunteer work as a book narrator for the blind.

I have to admit to being a bit nervous about the prospect of glaucoma, if that's what it turns out to be. But Jesus gave a remedy for eye problems. For those in the Laodicean church who were blind and didn't even know it, He offered to anoint their eyes with eyesalve. (Revelation 3:18) If God can cure spiritual blindness, then I am covered. Because that's the only kind of blindness I should really worry about.

In the studio at www.christianrecord.org 

Copycat

Julia (age 2), my second granddaughter, went to Vacation Bible School tonight, along with her sister Jenna. After scoping out the program the last two nights with Jenna, I determined that Julia would have no problem fitting in with the young girls in Jenna's "tribe" (class). And sure enough, she was young enough that the older girls loved taking her by the hand and showing her "the ropes" of Vacation Bible School.

As their tribe sat on the floor and listened to a story and talked about the lesson, it tickled me that whenever anyone raised their hand to answer the teacher, Julia would raise BOTH her arms too. This puzzled me a bit, but maybe she just wasn't sure which hand to raise, so she did both. She's become quite a copycat around her big sister, and she was using all her copycat skills to fit in tonight.

Thinking back on her attempts to imitate her classmates makes me want to be more attuned to following the example of Jesus in my own life. Am I so anxious to copy Him that I will use BOTH my arms or legs, or whatever part of me He needs, to follow where He leads? I hope so.

Julia with King Nebuchadnezzar

A Good Custom

It was so nice of the pastor to bring communion to Dean today. He and the new student pastor came, just as promised on the phone to Dean this past week, and we held our own private communion service here at home. Dean has not been attending church for some time now, due to some complications with medicines, having so many falls, and just his increased dementia issues.

It has been less stressful for me to celebrate our Sabbaths alone, but lately Dean has OK'ed me to attend by myself, and so long as I'm comfortable leaving him for that long, I'll keep going on my own for now.

It pains me to think of Dean not attending church though, as it has been a part of his life since he was born. His parents were staunch attenders. And so were Dean and I while raising our daughter and all through our marriage. Even when Dean was living a not-so-stellar lifestyle, he was still in church every time the doors were open. He especially misses the fellowship now, a part of church life that some don't treasure nearly enough.

We should all cherish our freedom of public worship more than we do. One never knows when or how the privilege could be taken away.

Luke 4:16 "...as His custom was, He went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day..." Like Jesus, attending church is evidently a habit we should all get accustomed to.

P.S. Any church  members who would like to visit Dean would certainly be welcome!

Support for Caregivers

I've been toying with the idea of starting a caregiver support group again. Nothing noble about it. I think I will be its biggest beneficiary. I could really use another night off once a month. I wouldn't expect many caregivers to be there; it's hard to get away every month. But it's just good to have an evening out yourself now and then to meet with others who share similar challenges. Or even who have shared them in the past. I still like to talk about caring for my parents, even though my focus is now totally on my husband. It's a good way to get inspiration, support, and affirmation from each other.

Even though we have a Father in heaven to support us, God knew the value of the human element too. That's why He sent His Son down to earth to reach us on the human level.

Attending a support group is not a sign of weakness. It's an indication that you know where to find strength, also known as support. And these days I gotta' find it anywhere I can.

Stacking Your Plate

Tonight we had the typical Adventist meal called "haystacks", or build your own tacos. What's so nice about haystacks is that you get to pick your own food items in the order you want and build it according to your own preference and style.

Isn't this somewhat how God lets us live our lives as well? God provides the ingredients, the fruits and gifts of the Holy Spirit, and an example in the person of Jesus, but we are left to make choices along the way that makes our Christian lives uniquely different from each other.

Although no haystack is alike, they all turn out amazingly delicious and nutritious. Christians don't have to be identical either. It all depends on how you stack your plate.