Wearing a New Hat For a New Year

We weren't visited by angels Christmas Eve, but it was close. Our two angelic granddaughters, accompanied by their mom and dad, came over to share a supper and gift-opening time with us. I love planning and preparing a meal for more than just Dean and I, so that was a special treat for me. Even if it was just "haystacks", or "walking tacos", as some call them.

Our entertaining schedule has been light for many years now since Dean's accident. Tight finances, coupled with Dean's low capacity for crowds and distractions, has put our hospitality ministry on hold. So, I was really excited about having family over that night. There weren't a whole lot of gifts to open, but enough to whet the kids' appetites for Santa's gifts the next day.

And speaking of appetites, Dean's been having a raging one recently. For Christmas he got some potato chips, two bags of M&Ms, and chewing gum from the granddaughters. We all (except me) thought he'd make them last, since I mostly try to keep him away from calorie-loaded treats. But they were all gone by the end of Christmas Day. (Except for the gum...because he couldn't remember where he stashed it.)

The one gift he got that night that will last was the new cowboy hat they gave him. It is a great improvement over the old battered one he was wearing.

Christmas, coming right before the New Year, is the perfect time for replacing the old with the new.

"Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." II Corinthians 5:17

May we all look forward to a New Year in Christ.

He's still not ready to retire the old hat, however. Guess I can't blame him--looks like it's got some history!

A Meal Made in Heaven

So nice to be invited out for a Thanksgiving dinner with family this year. With Dean's raging appetite these days, I was hoping his holiday eating would not get too out of hand.

We timed it right to get there when it was about time to eat. He can make a meal out of appetizers, if you know what I mean. I dished up his first plate, since it was just easier in a small kitchen with buffet-style serving. This assured that his first helpings were sensibly sized and not mounded so high on his plate.

He got his own seconds of favorites after that, but I was glad when they started offering pie for dessert. I'm sure he would have just continued eating plate after plate of food until time for dessert. We made sure he had one of the first pie pieces cut.

We had just the right amount of visiting during and after all of this, but were the first ones to head for home. I understood others soon followed who had other family dinners to attend (in-laws).

It made for a real family treat, being with our daughter's in-laws. Just one big happy family gathering.

It reminded me of the type of family gatherings we will enjoy in heaven someday. But there will be no rush there, no accommodating service, no watching calories, sugar or gluten contents either. It will just all be good-for-us food, and especially tasty. (Almost like this one we enjoyed on Thanksgiving Day.) I can't wait!

in between bites

My understanding hostess Shari--on the left!

Dinner with a Friend

Yesterday turned out to be an amazing day, even though I had my doubts when Dean woke up with a hoarse voice and wisely opted out of going to his twice-a-week adult day program. Couldn't help but sigh, because I had so many errands on my agenda while he was safely tucked away in someone else's care.

His disorientation and mental confusion has improved enough though that I decided to just go ahead with my plans and leave him with DVDs to watch and microwaveable food, and stop in quickly or call him during the times I had to be out. He seems to do just fine for an hour or two on his own.

My most enjoyable "errand" was meeting a lady friend, who offered to take me out to eat somewhere for my birthday. Couldn't remember when I'd last done that. It was incredibly sweet to have some adult conversation with a peer, who wasn't my daughter or sister. It really meant a lot to have that womanly-sharing time.

As many with spouses who have dementia, it's easy to reduce your social life to almost nothing. I tried having people over for dinner after church sometimes in the years since Dean's tractor accident. There were a few years this was possible, but it's become increasingly more stressful since his dementia has increased. So, I have virtually stopped trying, except for occasional suppers with close family members. And I love cooking for others, so it's something I really miss.

I am looking forward to a two-day caregiver retreat this month though. But the retreat that I most look forward to is one out of this world. There we will have the most heavenly social life we can imagine. And the party never ends.

Our Old Man

What a nice Christmas Eve dinner we had with family last night. I actually added two leafs and brought the dining room table into the living room, so we could all sit at the table to eat for a change. Was worried that the encroachment on Dean's living space might upset him, but since it came with the hope of some good eating, he was fine with it.

Then the star family members were two hours late in getting here. Another worry that Dean might not be able to handle the frustration that brought. But once again, I fed him tidbits and promised much more just as soon as they arrived, so he stayed remarkably cool about the delay.

In setting the table, I made sure that no bowls that people needed help dishing up were in front of Dean. I was going to give him a fork like the rest of us from the set, but then thought I better ask him and sure enough he required his own special fork, which I hastily switched out for him. I set him on the end of the table with ample room to maneuver around his chair. Then I made sure that salt and butter were placed at both ends of the table, right near Dean's place setting, to forestall any discord about passing them.

Surprisingly, he asked for black pepper though, which we hastily got from the kitchen for him. When he was done seasoning, his plate resembled one big deviled egg. He choked on the first bite of "black" mashed potatoes, but to our amazement managed to devour all the food on his plate.

Opening gifts later was a cinch. There were just enough chocolates and candy gifts for Dean to open to keep him happily satisfied. We all tried to oblige him when he offered us chocolate covered cherries, as stuffed as we were. Just to prevent him from eating the whole box himself. At least we prevented a few of the pieces from getting to their victim.

From the sounds of my report, this whole event revolved around one old man. But maybe there's something instructive and symbolic about our family's involvement in taking care of this old man of ours. Christmas is about a Baby, but it's also about the Man we call our God. Shouldn't all our activities focus on Him too?

Dean, the Talker

Tonight Dean and I went to a potluck supper, hosted by the Alzheimer's Association local chapters. There was an assortment of persons, caregivers, staff and volunteers, and those with dementia or Alzheimer's there, but I was nervous about taking Dean to a group that I was unfamiliar with. Taking him somewhere and not knowing the size of the crowd, the location of the church, or where the dinner would be held was an act of real bravery on my part, I must say.

I had an idea that Dean would probably refuse to put his Levis and street shoes on for the event, so he came in lounge pants, bedroom slippers, and  the T-shirt/bib, he'd been sporting all day. The "Elmer Fudd" style hat and plaid flannel shirt he's worn all week completed his ensemble.

I knew I'd have to draw some attention from his outfit, so I chose to wear my very bright red dressy blouse with shiny sequins. I've gotten compliments on it, so knew it was an attention-getter too. Besides, no sense in him getting all the limelight.

There were people our age and older, seated at some of the tables when we arrived. But Dean chose to sit at the table of the youngest-looking people there. The oldest turned out to be 26. Yes, before long Dean had asked them each their names and ages, if they were related, what they knew about Alzheimer's, if they drove, had boyfriends-girlfriends, what their dad did, and how many siblings they had. He continued to keep them entertained the whole evening. He kept trying to remember their names and guess their ages. Causing a chuckle at each failed attempt.

I was pleased that it was going so well, because the girls told us that their mother had passed away with Alzheimer's just last December. I hope Dean brought some sunshine into the evening for them. Dean's presence surely gave them some comic relief, in what must be a difficult stage of their lives, missing their mom.

Dean worries about not having a ministry, not realizing that he ministers every day to everyone he meets.

Salting the Table

I was noticing tonight at supper how fast condiments have been disappearing in our house. After seeing how much soy sauce Dean poured on his rice and stir-fry vegetables, it wasn't hard to know who the culprit is. He saturates almost all his food with Tabasco, Frank's Red Hot Sauce, ketchup, or steak sauce. Either that or he salts and peppers it to death.

I don't know if he really intends to get that much flavorings and seasonings on his food. Maybe he's just slow about knowing when to stop pouring, or he doesn't see well enough to know when he's got enough on the food. I have noticed that the whole dining room table looks like it's been salted when he's done. But the main reason seems to be that he wants his food to taste the way he's trying to season it.

In the same vein, we can think of all kinds of reasons why we sin. But the main reason is most likely that we just want to. We like the pleasure it gives us. Let's not forget the price we pay for that pleasure though. Someone is paying for our indulgences, just like I'm having to buy more condiments and clean the whole table of spilled salt. And ultimately Dean will pay with loss of health. But more importantly, he's losing out on the real taste of the food. Life is just so much better, without our attempts to spice it up on our own.

A Clean Heart

I hate it when I let too many meals pass without doing the dishes. This afternoon I looked at the huge piles of dirty dishes in both sinks, and knew I'd have to tackle them right away, so I could enjoy the women's dinner at church tonight without visions of a dirty kitchen plaguing me the whole evening.

While I was administering the cleaning touch to the dishes, I pondered how hard it was, doing a lot of dishes compared to doing them when there are just a few. Even though that means doing it more often. It's like another task most people don't like. Namely, asking forgiveness. Or even offering forgiveness.

Because the longer you wait to ask forgiveness, the harder it is to do. And likewise, the longer you wait to grant forgiveness, the harder it is to accomplish. Sometimes, I let the little hurts and annoyances that come with taking care of a man like mine just pile up too high. So I need to consciously be forgiving him a little at a time.

Fortunately as a reminder for me, Dean asks for forgiveness many times during the day. Does it count when he can't remember what I'm forgiving him for? You bet it does. I think it counts even more, because I know it's coming from his heart, and not just his mind. And it's easy to forgive when it's a heartfelt apology like his.

I like a clean kitchen, but I probably like a clean heart even more.

Early or Late?

Dean's "Meals on Wheels" dinner had not arrived when I got home from church today. At least it appeared that it hadn't arrived. Either it had arrived and he forgot he ate it, which was a possibility. Or they neglected to bring it. I was almost ready to call to find out because it had never come that late before, when the doorbell rang.

There was his meal delivered by a totally new person, who apologized that we were last on the list. He said it was his first time to deliver, and he discovered that he had started from the wrong end of the list. So, Dean's lunch which usually comes on the early side, first on the route, came last, rather late. We were still happy to see it, even though it needed a bit of warming in the microwave.

Whether we come to the Lord's table early in life or late, it doesn't matter. It's nice when you're early. You are nice and hot, ready for service. But those who are there late are welcomed with open arms too, even though you might need a bit of warming up, in order to be ready for service.

The important thing is to just come. Someone is waiting for you, hungering for the Bread of Life.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

What a fun time we had with family and friends today. I was a bit worried about how my husband would handle six adults and four kids, all toddlers, for Sabbath dinner, but he was admirably well-behaved through it all.

Another worry today was the weather. We were under a thunderstorm and tornado watch most of the day. And we have no basement. It really was storming it up right after church when people started arriving at our house. But all we have had out of it so far has been some heavy rain.

I worried about not being able to write this blog tonight, but it appears I can master that one too. Except that I'm getting sleepy. Didn't get my usual nap in today.

Main lesson from today for me. Don't worry for nothing. Let God handle your life, but also your stresses. I used to worry about being a worrier. Trust is a good antidote for that.