Stunned on a Monday

Mondays are always busy, but yesterday's Monday really kept me hopping. It was the day before our monthly brain injury support group meeting, and I have the pleasure of making reminder phone calls to those who come to the group. So phone conversations were interspersed all day with housekeeping chores and family matters.

I was down to the last person to call though, so things were looking pretty bright for a relaxing evening at least. But then came the shock.

The spouse, a caregiver wife about my age, told me, as gently as she could, that her husband had passed away a week ago from a virus. I was stunned to hear of it. Just stunned. They had been coming to our meetings for about a year. We've lost several people over the years, but who would have thought it would be Fred? He seemed so healthy and vibrant, despite the cognitive and emotional challenges he'd faced since his brain injury. I just grieved so much for this wife who'd already been through so much.

We caregivers can't wait for our caregiving to end sometimes. But when you stop and think what that end will actually entail, it doesn't look so inviting after all. I complain about my hard life with Dean, but life without him seems pretty bleak too.

I, and other caregivers, not only look forward to the Resurrection Morning, when Christ comes to redeem us all. We, more than anyone, look forward to our new bodies AND our new brains in those bodies. It's hard to picture. But really, it's our only hope.

This Hope

For quite awhile this evening I've been trying to think of something of note to report in my blog. And then the most notable news ever came to me. Sunday as I was making my monthly routine calls to remind people of our brain injury support group that meets this Tuesday, one of our friends from the group sadly told me that her husband had passed away a week ago.

As I'm casually hoping to recall something noteworthy in my life, a fellow caregiver/survivor has had her world turned upside down this past week. He was such a caring man too, who came to all our meetings with his wife. She had a brain injury many years ago in an auto accident. The support group will never be the same without his quiet, cheerful, smiling presence. He will be sorely missed by all of us in the group.

Life is so fragile. And so is our grief. Grief is personal, it's diverse, and it's never going to go away so long as we're on this sinful planet. But someday, God promises to take away the sting of death. No more will we feel its bite. No more will we have to say good-bye.

"And God shall wipe all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." Revelation 21:4

Where would we be without this hope?

"Lovegiving"

A friend of mine just lost her elderly father. She and her husband have been caregivers for her parents for some time now, so I'm feeling a special sadness for them today. It reminds me of what the end of my own caregiving will feel like.

I don't know if grief is any easier after caregiving or not. Perhaps there's still guilt over whether your care was good enough. But then again, there's some comfort in knowing that you were there for them and did the best you could.

Friends and loved ones often refer to caregivers as saints. But we are actually no more saintly than any other Christian. As a matter of fact, the Bible indicates in many places that anyone who calls on the name of Jesus and is sanctified in Him is a saint. (I Corinthians 1:2) ) Caregiving doesn't make one a saint. It allows us to be one. It's the Christian, saintly thing to do.

It's an opportunity to give back the care and love that's been given to us. One might call it "lovegiving".

Fond Memories

Today is a day of importance in our family. Not only was it the day my mother died two years ago, but it's also the birthday of my niece, a grandchild my mom was especially fond of. She was her first grandchild, but she and her little brother were also the only two grandchildren that she actually lived in the same town with. Even if it was only for a couple of years when they were preschoolers many years ago. As you can imagine, she and my niece developed a special bond for each other, as over the years she would connect on the phone with her grandma for comfort and advice. To feel that amazing grandmotherly love that we all crave.

All the grandchildren experienced it at one time or another, but especially Tammie, the first. As mom slipped away from us in the hospital room that day two years ago, our first thoughts went out to Tammie. How devastated she would be to learn of this event on her birthday. But then again, how fortunate that it did happen on her day. It illustrated the closeness they had, and I pray that time will heal Tammie's wounded heart, but that she will also remember her grandma fondly each year, as perhaps none of the other grandchildren will.

For now, you still have your parents, aunts and uncles, and cousins to share your loss and remind you that your grandmother's love lives on in the rest of your family members. We are all healing together, Tammie. But thanks to your birthday, your grandmother will be remembered for generations to come.

 

my parents--what a "show" garden they had! (fond memories we share today, Tammie)

The Team

I can't help but think of my mom today. This was her birthday and birthdays were always so important to her. She would be 81 today. My dad's day was just two days before hers and I think they rather enjoyed celebrating their birthdays together. Mom usually made Dad's favorite cake. Yellow with chocolate frosting. Then she might follow with a special dessert that she liked. She made great cream puffs.

One thought I had of my mom today though was how she was able to cope with life. Of course, Jesus was her constant confidante, but she also felt comfortable sharing her burdens with her children. My sister usually had a handle on her aches and pains, from her swollen hands and feet to the pain in her eyes. Even though my sister lived hundreds of miles away, I could find out from her how mom was feeling, because I knew Mom shared that with her.

My brother was her sounding board when it came to marital matters, the many hurts and frustrations that came with living with a high-maintenance man like my dad. He gave her much needed comfort and understanding of those issues from his unique male perspective.

And finally I was there to share her frustrations with being blind those last ten years or so. I was the only one who lived close and was taking her to doctor's appointments and listening to her heartbreaking concerns of not being able to see and how much quality of life it was taking from her.

We were a family team all along and didn't recognize how our combined efforts were lightening Mom's load. But I'm sure it was. Thank you, Lord, for helping us be there for our mom. And she felt our combined presence, I'm sure, right to the end.

"A Spit and a Promise"

This day has been full of memories. It was my dad's birthday today. He would have been 83. What a coincidence that my nephew would think of washing the car today. It's my dad's car that I inherited two years ago. My parents kept it immaculately washed, waxed, and detailed numerous times a year. Often by their own sweat and muscle.

I feel close to my mom and dad whenever I use their car. They used it to drive to a local truck stop every evening to relax and socialize with friends. It was more than a vehicle for them. It was a link to the outside world. I know they were more proud of it than they were their old house.

Thank you, Jason, for reviving some memories for me today. Mom and Dad may be gone from this world, but their car lives on, as do our memories of them both. They live on in our hearts. We look forward to seeing them again on that glorious Resurrection Morning. God has promised a grand reunion for His people.

Here they are at the truck stop a few years ago...

After a good wash, it still shines!

That Grand Reunion

It's been a year and a half since I lost both my parents to cancer. So many family milestones they've missed. Some good, some not-so-good. They both live on in our memories though. And also in the values and spiritual legacy they left for us.

I still have boxes of their papers, etc. to sort through, but just don't have the heart for it yet. Maybe someday when I'm in a real cleaning frenzy, I'll tackle it again. For now, I have two pieces of furniture that are daily reminders of their love and influence.

One, the dining room hutch, was my mom's pride and glory. It matches the table that she gave me several years ago when Dad took over her dining room and needed to set up his computer. She loved this dining room set and when I think about it, it's the first nice one she had. After forty years of marriage, you can understand her pride and joy in it. She hated to separate the set, but now they are together in my home. So, that's my reminder of Mom.

The computer desk is not an expensive one, but Dad loved his computers and the way they let him stay connected to his loved ones. It was in the only room in the house that Mom turned over to him for all his collections. I think of all the hours I spent emailing, then messaging, and finally video-chatting with Dad in his last years.

I can't bring them back, but so long as I have their memory, even without the physical reminders, I am blessed. They are resting in the grave until our grand family reunion in the sky!

Predictions

This was the last day I could get health screening done at the senior center, so I was anxious to see what some of my numbers were. Especially the cholesterol and bone density numbers. One was borderline, but the other was across the border, so to speak. After just having a fracture, I was encouraged by the number for that. But do I really want heart disease instead?

I was thinking today about predictions for people's lives. The health screens help predict medical problems we might have in the future. And that doesn't seem so bad. I can live with that and adjust my lifestyle to better my chances.

But as I drove past the train station today, I was reminded of Dean's brother and sister-in-law's visit from Idaho a couple of summers ago. It was so sad to say good-bye to them, and think it might be our last visit. But Dale was the healthiest of us all. Who would have expected it was our final good-bye to him and that he would die in a tragic semi accident two years later?

God holds back knowledge of the future for our individual lives out of mercy. Those who seek out fortunetellers or search their horoscopes are not getting their information from our Heavenly Father. It's just not the way He operates. God does open the future at times to help prepare His people for events, but His purpose is to protect us, not alarm us. The Bible is the only safe place to find predictions. Praise God He reveals all we really need to know.

Good-bye to a Friend

I am saddened today about the loss of a great gentleman who attended my church for about as many years as the local church existed. Mitch will be long remembered for his wide smile and winsome ways. Even though he was at an age where losing him should be expected, it still caught most of us by surprise. He was at church just yesterday, smiling and shaking hands with all his friends.

I know this makes him sound like a strong, gregarious person. But he really had a very humble, non-assuming personality. Mitch didn't have to command your attention. You gave it to him because he just seemed worthy of it. He was proud of his native American heritage, but didn't lord it over anyone either.

He spoke of his Savior as his best friend, as I'm sure He was. And he wanted everyone to know that Jesus could be their friend too. Mitch served God right to the end. He could always be depended on to visit others who couldn't make it to church, and he never failed to amaze me with his wise and loving comments during Sabbath School class. I looked forward to his insights in our Bible study each week.

There's a lot to miss about our friend Mitch. There was a lot behind his wide, ear-to-ear smile. And I think those are the things that will live on in all the lives he touched. The best part, the God-part, lives on.

Group Hug

Today we had two phone calls from our sister-in-law, who recently lost her husband, Dean's brother, in a tragic semi accident. She was just checking to confirm our addresses (Dean's sister too) to be able to send us some items from Dale--the obituary, the DVD of his memorial service, etc.

At the end of both calls, I could tell she was getting choked up and emotional. I'm sure talking to her husband's siblings must be very difficult at this time. I'd like to reach out and help her more, but I know there are others closer by who are able to comfort her as well. It's just hard to give a hug over phone lines. I could reassure her of our love and willingness to talk any time, but sometimes you need that physical embrace to convey the deepest sympathies.

I'm sure this is why God sent His Son to this dying world. He couldn't reach out to us with the hug He was longing to give, so He allowed Jesus to come down here and give it for Him. What love, what comfort, what hope He wanted to convey to His suffering children. Jesus came to hug us all.

Angels in the Room

All morning I fretted about what to say to my sister-in-law after the tragic death of Dean's brother yesterday. Words just can't convey the heartache she must be going through. And I truly didn't know what I could say that would bring her any comfort. There was no answer when I dialed her number, and I could only leave a message on her cell. I thought I was getting off the hook, at least for a short while.

Then Dean came home from his day program and after a short discussion about his brother, he wanted to call Roseanne. I was hesitant, because Dean's dementia can make him ramble on a bit long, and I didn't know if Roseanne could handle that. But I was amazed when he called, at how he said just the right things at all the right times to her, and he even asked if he could have prayer with her. She not only agreed, but said she was putting him on speaker phone so all the family there could hear him. As nervous as I was with this arrangement, Dean led an impeccably perfect prayer. I felt there were angels in the room, with wings that reached all the way to Idaho on phone wires.

Although he admits to not shedding tears himself over the loss of his only brother, God used him to comfort a grieving widow today. His emotions may not be intact, but his empathy is alive and well. I will treasure his words for a time when I may be that grieving widow.

Our Only Hope

We were given some sad news today. Dean's brother was killed in a truck and trailer accident near Salt Lake City, where he hauled hay and spuds back and forth to Idaho. He is the first of our siblings for us to lose, only 62 years old, and it just seems surreal. It just doesn't seem fair when you don't have a chance to say good-bye. Since we lived so many miles apart and didn't have daily communication with him, the loss will be easier for us. But I know his wife is going to need an enormous amount of strength in the days ahead.

The main comfort we have is that we shared the same faith in God. And because of this we have high hopes that we will see him someday in heaven. "Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed...at the last trump..." I Cor. 15 Even so, come, Lord Jesus!

Funerals--the Beginning and End of It

I went to a funeral this afternoon of a good friend and teacher, Joanne Perrault. This was one of those sudden, surprise endings of a life, well-lived. She leaves behind a vast army of little ones she has taught over the years. I can't think of a time when I didn't see a smile on her face. She truly loved all her "cherubs", as she called them, who were in her charge. She certainly brought out the angelic side of those children with her peaceful, loving ways.

Funerals bring to our attention the fact that life has its beginning but also has an end. And yet for those who love God supremely, the end is really a beginning too. Joanne's next conscious moment will be of meeting her Savior at His return to this planet and beginning eternal life with Him and all her cherubs.

Sad as funerals are, I think I'll keep attending them. For the simple reason that God is there, dispensing comfort and love to all who don't refuse it. After my parents' deaths a year ago now, it seems that I've been attending alot of funerals. I think God knows I need them. Who has enough comfort?

Maranatha, Come Quickly, Jesus!

This day, one year ago, was bittersweet for me in so many ways, but I try to think of the sweetness of it only. My father got out of the hospital, which he was getting tired of after almost a month. He hated hospitals and doctors, so nothing was sweeter to him than to enter his house once more. His little dog was there to greet him, and he had two daughters to wait on him hand and foot. We fixed his favorite foods for supper, and got him settled in bed. He was so overjoyed to be there and, snuggled up with his little dog for the night.

It turned out to be his last night at home though. That night he went to sleep in Jesus. It was the end he would have wanted. He was ready to leave this world, as it had truly lost all luster after losing our mother just three months earlier. Their passing has left a big hole in our lives, but the things they taught us and the memories we still cherish are able to somewhat fill the gap. The children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren live on to remind us that their lives did have meaning.

We look forward to the Resurrection Morning when all who love and follow Jesus will be raised to meet Him in the sky at His Second Coming. I have no doubt that my parents are both "resting in peace" and we will have a grand family reunion someday. Maranatha, come quickly, Lord Jesus!