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?

The Gift of Hope

Yesterday I went to a great support group for Alzheimer's and dementia. I knew the facilitator of the group and she asked me to talk about caregiving. We did discuss many aspects of caregiving, such as how it has changed over the last generation or two, what some of our common problems are, what feelings all caregivers share, and how to recognize signs of burnout and prevent it.

I was a bit more nervous about presenting to this group of seasoned caregivers. It was quite unlike the group of mixed, women caregivers at the women's retreat last fall. I pressed for more discussion this time, instead of waiting for questions at the end. So they actually carried the show and it went very well. Everyone had something to contribute--ideas and examples that spoke for themselves.

One thing I did notice though was how easy it was to veer off the topic of caregivers and start talking about our care recipients. They just were welded into the equation and you couldn't really separate the two. We exist because of them. The feelings and burdens we have are directly tied in to the persons we care for.

And there's nothing wrong with that. As a matter of fact, that's what makes family caregivers such good ones. We already have a bond with these individuals, which makes our loads easier to bear.

I'm sure God's sacrifice for us was made easier because of the tremendous love He has for His created beings. There was a close bond between us from the moment He breathed into Adam the breath of life. We should not wonder at the lengths God, the Father, would go through to not only save us, but to care for us from day to day.

Sure, God can't make everything smooth and happy for us all the time now--just as we can't make everything pleasant for the loved ones we care for. But God has made promises for our future--a future so bright, it's beyond our imagination. And isn't that the best gift we can give and have as caregivers? The gift of hope.

Our Blessed Hope

Some good news and some bad news on the Dean home healthcare front this week. First, we finally landed an appointment with the geriatric psychiatric clinic in Omaha on Valentine's Day. Someone cancelled, so we got their slot. Perhaps they decided to celebrate Valentine's Day instead. In any event, we'll take this opportunity to get another opinion about Dean's slipping health status and what medicines are appropriate for him at this time.

The not-so-good news though is that his platelet count is down. They want to check it again in two weeks. Keeping our fingers crossed on this one. Hoping it doesn't indicate anything too dire.

On a bright note, we had a family outing with Dean and the daughter and granddaughters this past week. It was quite a trip, just fifty miles away, but took us half a day to accomplish. It included a quick run into a lawyer's office for me to sign the tax forms for my parents' final years. Then we met a cousin at Burger King and visited with her for almost an hour. Followed by a quick visit to my parents' graves, where the girls left some "sturdy" plastic flowers. The only kind to survive these cold, wintry Nebraska days.

It seems our entire lives are sprinkled with good and bad news, aren't they? We should never expect this world, so tainted with sin, to be totally without cold, wintry days. But thankfully, the sun doesn't stay away forever. There is an eternal spring to look forward to. And the dimmer our lives become here, the brighter that Blessed Hope becomes.

Dropping in on Blindness

I'm still putting in anti-inflammatory eye drops four times daily since my laser eye surgery last Friday, but today I got busy and missed a dose. You wouldn't think it would be so easy to forget since I try to do it around meal time and then once at bedtime. Especially as important as it is to keep down any inflammation in my eyes following the surgery for glaucoma.

It says in the directions to gently close your eyes for five minutes after putting in the drop. Even that has been hard. Sometimes I have purposely tried to continue doing things with my eyes closed, just to see how it would feel if I couldn't see. It's a harsh reminder of how valuable my eyesight is. It's not a welcome thought.

But then it also reminds me of how my mother lost her sight over the course of several years. She was often discouraged about her fate, and I tried to lift her spirits every time I took her to the eye doctor for another useless appointment. Hope kept her going, but it was faith that made her strong.

This topic of blindness always hits me on Tuesdays, the day I volunteer as a book narrator for Christian Record Services. Ironically, my sessions are cut short due to my breathing problems, not my eyesight. But some day, who knows? God has a plan. I'm just here to live it for Him.

Wiggling Out

I'm beginning to experience blog withdrawals--two nights in a row I've missed posting on this blog. But they have been busy nights. Friday night we were at a friend's house for a little Christian fellowship and last night I babysat again for my daughter so she could have her "date night" out with my son-in-law.

This time babysitting, I faced a real dilemma. Instead of just Julia, the two-year-old falling asleep in my lap, Jenna, the almost-four-year-old, fell asleep there too. I thought I was going to have to sit frozen under this "iceberg" of heavy toddlers until the mommy/daddy couple returned. But just before they walked in the door, I had managed to wiggle out from under the sleeping masses, leaving them still asleep in two bulky heaps. One in the chair and the other on the floor.

This reminded me of all the times when I thought I'd never manage to wiggle out of a difficulty, only to find that when I got the courage to wiggle a little, the Lord helped unload those burdens gracefully and almost effortlessly. God sees our struggles, but most importantly we have to see that He's nearby. And He'll be walking through the door to rescue us fully, much sooner than we expect.

Patience

This morning I told my husband not to forget his cane, which was by the door he was about to go out of to catch his ride to his adult day program. A couple of minutes later, he heads out the door when the van pulled up. As soon as they drive away, I notice the cane still where he left it.

There is very little I can count on him to remember these days. Consequently, I have to be constantly vigilant for both of us, not to forget even the simplest of things. I should be used to this responsibility after twelve years, but things are getting worse it seems. Aging is not friendly to those with brain injury, I've been told. And it isn't a bowl of cherries for the caregiver either.

I know that parents must be ever watchful for their children, especially when they are very young. But it's just not natural to be a parent to your spouse. If you think teenagers are difficult, because they are older, try managing a 60+ year-old. You will know real frustration. But you will also learn real patience.

Maybe that's what these elderly men and women are here for. To develop our patience. I thought I learned it all in raising our daughter, but I'm getting a refresher course. I think I'm at the graduate level courses by now.

I remember a quote that said, "Patience with others is love. Patience with self is hope. Patience with God is faith." If that's the case, pile it on, Lord! Give me patience.

Caregiving for the Caregiver

Being laid up with what I'm assuming is a fractured ankle/foot has given me a whole new appreciation of mobility. Hobbling on one foot wouldn't be so bad for some people, except my circumstances are a little sacrificed to begin with. My scoliosis isn't making this any easier. I'm worried for one thing about pneumonia with my restrictive lungs, since I'm only on my second week with a cold. Plus my back is starting to feel some pain when I use the walker. This is putting alot of stress on a back that had a total spinal fusion 48 years ago.

Dean has been a sweetheart though with all his seeking and fetching activities. He realizes how I waited on him so long after his foot injuries last summer. Well, actually I've made it a point to remind him on occasion; but he knows. Reminding is our middle name around here with his memory problems. I soon learned not to give him a list of things to do for me. He has to get the instructions one at a time. He will come back and forth with his fetching anyway just to ask what else I wanted. So, we're just keeping it simple.

Others are helping out too. There are some things I have to get my in-house nephew to do. Things that would be too much of a challenge for Dean, like lowering Dean's walker to fit my short stature. Plus my daughter and son-in-law have been called in for shopping duties and to get Dean out of the house for a spell. I am really blessed to have my loved ones around.

God didn't intend for his creatures to live alone. He knew all along that we would need each other at each stage of life. But mostly He created us to need Him. The biggest handicap in life for me would be not to realize that plain and simple fact: we NEED Him. But out of love, it's still a choice--to do life on our own or with His help. With His help, I'm given hope that all this is part of a glorious plan. The final outcome is what counts. Even my loving family can't give that priceless commodity. Hope.

Joy in the Morning

I would like to be lighthearted and cheerful on my husband's birthday today, but it just hasn't happened. This day last year and this year, as it turned out, have both held some very disastrous events for my family. Too personal and horrific to even mention in this blog. But nothing that almost everyone will have to go through at some point in their life.

Suffice it to say, I'm glad the day is over. There is some hope as the sun set on this heartrenching, stressful day though. The Bible says that joy comes in the morning--Psalm 30:5. But even with hope, I can hang on. Just help me, Lord Jesus, to hang on.