My Wasted Silent Treatment

This past week Dean and I just happened to get in a tiff right before bedtime. Therefore he told me to shut up and I, being the normal wife, told him I'd be happy to, thinking that a good, long silent treatment would surely teach him a lesson. Tomorrow morning he would wonder why I still wasn't speaking to him.

But tomorrow came and Dean woke up as if nothing was amiss. Even with my quiet demeanor, it dawned on me that with his memory loss, my desire for revenge was doomed from the start. He would never be able to make the connection between my silence and any of his rude behaviors. So I determined that I would play dumb about our previous annoyance and all would be good.

I wondered why this scenario didn't happen more often. Why do I seldom have ammunition I want to throw at him over an extended period of time? Then I remembered that we failed to say our usual good-night to each other that night. More often than not it comes with a blanket apology from both of us, but usually initiated by Dean, for any wrongs we may have done to each other during the day.

This nightly apologizing has been an essential element of our marriage, especially since the dementia, but how necessary it is in any marriage.  It's why Paul advises us to "let not the sun go down upon your wrath" (Ephesians 4:26). Yep, it's best to take care of it the night before. Not with angry vengeance in our heart, but with apologies.

The Power of Prayer

Nothing is more aggravating than to be ready to walk out the door to go someplace and not be able to find your car keys. I'm usually pretty careful about putting them in the same place, because Dean doesn't like to see them just lying around. He's worried someone might steal them.

When I have forgotten his "rule" in the past, and left the keys in sight somewhere, he tends to put them "somewhere safe" for me. I thought I had him trained to put them in just one or two places in the spare bedroom, because he's been known to hide them a little too well, and with his short term memory deficits...well, you can just imagine the chaos that results from that situation.

Once again, chaos erupted the other day though when my keys turned up missing. I knew it must have been my in-house key thief, aka Dean, because I remembered opening the front door with the keys just the night before and laying them on the dining room table while I put my typical armloads of items away.

Dean half-remembered putting the keys somewhere again, and I was getting more and more anxious about his hiding place the longer we searched for them. My granddaughters and I were getting ready to go out on some errand--not an urgent one, mind you, but I knew later I would need to take these girls home or watch them multiple hours longer till their mom got off work, if we didn't find them.

After looking in every conceivable place in the house both Dean and I could think of, I went to my granddaughters and told them to say a prayer to find them and to keep an eye out for the runaway keys. They both prayed and helped us look for awhile, but after a short time they went back to their dolls, and I went into the kitchen to put some clean dishes away.

As I was putting the dishes away, the thought came into my head to look myself on top of the refrigerator. I saw Dean looking there as we were searching earlier. I have to get a stepstool in order to see up there myself, but as soon as I pulled the stool over and looked, there were the keys! They were just a little behind something, but certainly not out of sight. I don't know why Dean didn't see them when he looked earlier.

But then the answer came to me and I hurried to tell the girls that their prayers had been answered! And I'm sure it was. God obviously put that thought in my head, didn't He? And it was perfect timing for us all to have an object lesson about how God answers prayer.

What prayers has He answered for you today?

Pills Again

After a quick search, I see that I've already written nine times about Dean's pills since I began this blog. Our life seems to revolve around these little critters, so here's one more story about a "pill scare".

Last Friday night Dean hollered to me from the kitchen that he'd forgotten to take his pills that morning. He could see that pills were still in their morning slot in the weekly pill organizer he uses.

This happens occasionally, and usually it's nothing to worry about. But seconds later, he reports that he didn't take them the night before either! Now that would be something to worry about, so I dropped what I was doing and raced to the kitchen to verify what he was telling me.

We discovered that he was thinking it was the next night, Saturday night, so naturally there were pills in Saturday morning and Friday night that he hadn't taken yet. Whew, what a relief to see that although we had made a mistake in what day it was, it was not a mistake with great consequences, like not taking his pills would have been.

We've all made multiple mistakes during our lifetimes, but our merciful God races to our rescue to help oversee the situation, just as I raced to the kitchen. We can be sure in His capable Caregiver hands, our lives will make sense in eternity, if we've turned our lives over to Him and simply make the call for His help.

Remembering to Be a Husband

I was rather disgruntled when I woke up to find that Dean had forgotten to take his pills. Today was one of the three weekly days that he goes by medical van to an adult day structure, and normally the only thing I do physically to help him get ready is put on his socks.

This morning was one of the few times I was lazy and went back to sleep after putting his socks on, thinking that for once he'd make it out the door on his own alright. But alas, it seems about 90% of the time I don't remind him to take his pills, he forgets. This meant I had to drive all the way to the rec center, a couple of miles away, to give him the pills myself.

Just last night I was marveling though at something Dean always manages to remember. He never neglects to lock the front door of our house at night. I always check, just to make sure, but invariably he gets it done. It must be some manly, protective activity that he has held on to all these years. It's so sweet that he has honed in on that important duty. Well, I guess he does remember to put the trash can out to the curb once a week too. Very seldom does he forget that husbandly chore either.

God appears this way to me sometimes too. When it seems He's forgotten about taking care of me and I'm left in charge of getting it all done, I know in my heart there are some vital protections He still provides, including taking away my sin/trash. Lord, help me accept your never-failing love and mercies, and know that they are of far more value than my mere "busyness" of life.

I've always liked this picture. Is he leaning on me or protecting me? Maybe a bit of both!

Pill Panic

Don't know when I've felt such panic. The other day when we came home from the drug store with some new pain medication for Dean, I asked where the pills were. We had only been home a few minutes, but he announced that he had hid them. My heart must have skipped several beats when I immediately began every persuasion known to man (and woman) to get him to reveal the hiding place of his new powerful drug.

My first instinct for the hiding place turned out to be correct, but I didn't let him know that I had already located them in the top drawer of his dresser. I needed his willing compliance if I was going to be the administrator of this medication, a very necessary measure due to his memory issues.

And the "memory loss" argument finally won him over. By the next day, when he went to his adult day program, I had convinced him that I would put the amount of pills in the pill bottle that he needed just for that day, and hold the rest aside in another location (undisclosed to him, of course).

But then, I noticed that he was getting easily overdosed with the two pills he was allowed, resulting in slurred speech and being uneasy on his feet. So, I came up with an idea. A deceptive one, but necessary for his health and safety. I switched the few pills in the bottle to Tylenol. And if I felt he should have the "real stuff", I could give him one (just one) along with his daily pills in his pill organizer. (There's so many in there already he surely wouldn't notice one more.)

At one point I was wondering if my little "scheme" would be undetected. Because the Tylenol pills look totally different than the "real" pain pills. Different shape, different size. Would he trust me enough to accept the change without questioning the different-looking pills? Fortunately, I don't think he has so far even remembered that they are different. So, the crisis has been averted for this round.

Isn't it nice that our great God-Caregiver has the power and knows us well enough to give us substitutes when we need them? I pray that I can trust God enough to look out for my welfare, especially when my ability to make wise choices is seriously impaired. God has the situation under control, but we do need to reveal our "hiding places" and willingly allow Him to administer His will.

our trusty pill organizer, where one more pill won't be noticed

Reminders

Been so busy this week taking care of myself that I haven't had time for much blogging. A monster cold came on like a lamb, but soon showed itself as a lion, and set me reeling again with two episodes of coughing that ended up as choking, near-911 calls. (Praise the Lord, this is the first cold I've had since last February though!)

Most of you know about my pulmonary restrictive disease, causing me to be on oxygen part of the time. My deformed chest cavity from scoliosis doesn't give me the room I need to breathe. When asked by the nurse if I was short of breath, it was tempting to report that all my breaths were short. I haven't had a deep breath in years, maybe never really. Wouldn't know one if it hit me!

But this blog isn't about me. It's about my caregiving life with my hubby dear. After returning home after a six-hour emergency room visit, my daughter (MY caregiver for the day) gave her dad the low-down on not overworking her momma while she's sick. Her lecture really seemed to influence his behavior these past few days. He has been much less needy himself and more observant of my needs, constantly asking what he can do to help.

One thing I've discovered with my illnesses though is that I need reminders for my care. Not taking my medicine or breathing treatments at regular intervals gets me in trouble every time. Seeing my medical arsenal on the washing machine may have reminded Dean of the seriousness of my condition too. It looked like this:

Living in a household with someone who has memory deficits keeps me looking for memory aids for both of us. I have to be doubly cognizant of remembering appointments, medicine times, getting bills paid on time, etc., etc.

How nice that God placed one reminder for us that happens at regular intervals, making it even easier to remember. How important to remember our "weekly date" with Him! He actually blessed a certain day and placed it in the Ten Commandments, so we would never lose it. What could be easier?

Reputations

Dean's sister Lynn and brother-in-law John came for a visit today. They live in another state and we seldom get to see each other. His family was having a big family reunion in town, but we had our own little one right here in our cozy living room this morning--a much better place for Dean to be able to reconnect with his only sis.

Lynn helped me identify and mark some of their family photos, a task I hadn't even asked Dean to tackle. It surprised me how his sister could get stories out of him that I hadn't heard before though. As it often happens with dementia, his long-term memory is still pretty intact. I had hesitated to have him help me on his own simply because I know how frustrated he gets with such activities.

There was one relative she was telling us about who I was really interested in--perhaps because of my own breathing and oxygen problems. Dean's grandpa on his father's side was reportedly not a good provider. First of all, this was during the Great Depression. But he was nevertheless considered a good-for-nothing, and forced his grandmother to work and support their children. She later divorced him and continued to provide for her four children on her own. Then Lynn told me that he had asthma.

I instantly thought of my own great grandpa, who had asthma and an almost identical story of not working, leaving my great grandmother to support their eight children during the Depression. He was thought to be pretty worthless by the family, even to this day too.

Having experienced shortness of breath and several episodes of calling 911, I can relate to the debilitating effects of asthma, or any pulmonary problem. Keep in mind that there was no medical support of any kind back then for lung patients--no nebulizers, medicines, or inhalers. I doubt there was even portable oxygen for home use. Both of our grandfathers died at an early age, and from the sound of their stories may have suffered from mental depression as well.

This brought home to me how one's reputation can suffer unjustly and how important our understanding of disabilities is. My hope is that people now will become familiar enough with dementia, and all the other "invisible" disabilities out there, and that the memories we leave will be seen in a kinder light.

And of course, the greatest legacy of all is the life that reflects the Father's love. After all, God has a reputation to guard as well.

Dean and Lynn

 

Why Memorize?

On the way to our monthly brain injury support group, I reminded Dean that it was going to be "talent night", our once-a-year opportunity to share something special with the group, following a nice potluck supper.

Dean started reciting a bawdy poem from his barroom days in his youth, but I stopped him in his tracks and reminded him that there might be children present. He said he could censure it, but I had my doubts about his ability to "clean it up" enough for a mixed audience. There wasn't any more said about it, so I thought he agreed with my assessment.

Imagine my horror at the meeting when they asked him if he had any talent and he started reciting the quite "colorful" rhyme, having to pause and clear his throat at very frequent, vital intervals. We made it through without too much embarrassment, and I had to admire his ability to remember something so well after decades of learning it and filter it fairly well.

It made me marvel also at the brain's ability in general to retrieve memorized information, and was a reminder to me that memorization is not a skill to be taken lightly. I wish I had memorized far more good things when I was young. I've memorized several Bible passages in the last few years, but I know it would have been easier to remember them when I was young and the recall would be more reliable. Even with dementia, Dean's recall was impeccable.

I hope to encourage my granddaughters to memorize Bible verses. Because one verse tells us, "Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee." Psalm 119:11 It isn't just for show; it will help them all through life to stay away from sin and stay close to God. It's part of our spiritual armor. Ephesians 6:17.

Chasing After Dad

We just spent the last two days at a state brain injury conference in Kearney, Nebraska. That would be Dean, our daughter, and I. It was an action-packed time, full of adventures and felt like a big family reunion, since this was the seventh annual one they have had and we've attended.

We three adults shared a motel room this time, but our daughter didn't object too much until she found out how much her dad snores. She knew after last year what her duties were and thought they would actually be simplified by her being in the same room with us. I don't know how many times last year her dad forgot his room-key and they had to borrow one from the desk or come looking for me in the convention center somewhere.

One time last year we found each other in the vendor area. I'm thinking I spotted them first because they were pretty hard to miss. Dean had on his cowboy hat, a towel draped over his shoulder, and, most noticeable, feet that were bare. They were on their way to or from the pool, but had forgotten his roomkey. I came to recognize our daughter's furtive eye-rolling, a carryover from her teens, and would let her lean in to secretly whisper in my ear, "Mom, you're a saint!"

This year started out with a bang too. Or rather a plop. Dean fell full-body on the sidewalk outside her apartment as we were getting ready to leave. He thought he could step down from a foot-high retaining wall like the rest of us, and of course went down like a dishrag. Fortunately, our son-in-law was there to help hoist his 250 plus-lb. body back to an upright position. He wasn't hurt, but we were all certainly placed on red-alert to watch for falls again this time around.

After the first day's busy agenda, we three headed to the pool and spa in the motel for a little relaxation time. Dean was doing alright in the hot tub and then a quick dip in the pool. And then he wanted to go sit on the patio outdoors. It was early evening and getting rather chilly out there, so our daughter and I remained inside, knowing it was no use trying to change his mind. After letting him sit there in our view through the window for a short while, we knew one of us would have to fetch him back inside before he got too chilled.

Our daughter looked longingly at me and said, "Can you do it, Mom? I've been chasing him all day." I started laughing so hard, I could hardly get out my reply. "Well, I've been chasing him EVERY day!" And then we both about split our guts laughing, one of the best coping tools you can bring with you to a full-of-surprises brain injury convention, especially with characters like our "outlaw cowboy" in attendance.

King of the Remote

Caregiver Guilt

It's been a difficult week and month. First, my mother's only sister passed away in California, bringing many flashes of mom's final illness and death in 2010. I can't imagine the recent pain of my niece and her husband as they dealt with all the caregiving and final arrangements without the support of siblings. They are to be commended for their brave decisions and actions these last terribly busy weeks. I pray for comfort in their grief as they try to take up their normal duties at home now.

Besides all the feelings that came with my aunt's passing, I've also been trying to ignore my own feelings of guilt. There, I've said it. It's definitely guilt. I feel guilty for not being happy over Dean's improvement in health since we stopped one of his medicines.

The simple fact is that he was much easier to care for when he was sleeping most of the day and wasn't having any emotional outbursts. Sure, he was having vivid dreams and even hallucinations, and had much more memory loss. His overall health and strength seemed to be slipping away. I was terribly worried about him and it took a second opinion of another specialist to pinpoint what the problem was.

But now that he's back to his ol' ornery self, I find myself wistfully wanting him back in "la-la land". It's a selfish wish for sure, but if I totally come clean and confess, maybe I can quit feeling sorry for myself. There are joys in this difficult task of caregiving. I just have to look for them again.

Taken this Easter Sunday, at our in-laws' church...a joyful occasion!

Dreaming Big

I know it's time I was letting my readers know how Dean is doing. To be honest, there's not much to report. He eats, he sleeps, he eats, he sleeps. Much like a newborn, I suppose. Nothing eventful I can sink my teeth into.

I could give details about some of the vivid dreams he's been having though. He can't seem to shake them when he wakes up. They are so real to him. They even affect his mood throughout the day I've noticed. One day he was very tired all day, because he'd been doing hard labor with a crew. He still says there's a pile of lumber in our backyard for evidence. Then one day he was very depressed. This dream involved a race car driver who was killed, and Dean felt responsible for it. Today, he's been a bit on the grumpy side, and I'm sure it has something to do with whatever he dreamed last night.

Dementia has so many different sides to it. The first year they said it was dementia, there was more memory loss, then falling a lot, this year seems to be the year of dreams and sleep disturbances. What next? Something tells me it will involve wandering. Not looking forward to that one.

Is this not how all of us tend to fall away from God? We forget how much He loves and provides for us, we start falling into sin, we sleep through sermons and dream big dreams for ourselves, and finally we wander away completely from God's side. A very telling story indeed.

Our Most Holy Brain

Two days ago after Dean's bath aide and nurse left the house, he questioned his memory by asking me if that was his nurse Carol who just left. I gently corrected him with Carla's name. He has had Carla come to the house every week for over a year now and still has trouble remembering her name before, during, and after her visits.

Imagine my surprise and shock when Dean left the doctor's office yesterday by shaking hands and saying "Good-bye, Cori" to the young man who was shadowing his doctor. They had just been introduced once at the beginning of our session. Was it a "white-coat" syndrome? Or just a fluke? I had to smile.

With Dean's array of symptoms lately, mostly involving sleep, appetite, and memory, he's proving to be quite the medical challenge for his doctors. As a matter of fact, the psychiatrist yesterday said he wants to research the medicines out there for what would be best for Dean.

The doctor did ask if it was possible to manage his diet better. I almost laughed. My full-time occupation is managing his diet. We mostly try to have regular, healthy meals, but Dean is just hungry all the time. I mean literally all the time. And with his memory getting worse, he asks for another meal, almost as soon as he's up from the table. I have been welcoming the end of the month when our cupboards are almost bare. At least then I can honestly say, there's nothing to eat.

And then there's his sleep habits lately. I would have thought that going to his day program yesterday and staying awake all day would have meant a good night's sleep and getting back to a healthy day and night pattern of sleep. But here he is sleeping the day away again. Barely staying awake long enough to eat his meals. One day I tried three times when his Meal on Wheels arrived to get him up to eat at noon. If he's maintaining his weight, we can thank his new sleep habits. Except he's missing out on exercise through inactivity too, so muscle weakness is also a concern.

I'm not sure what the doctors can do, if anything, to fix these medical problems for Dean. Our bodies, as we age, are deteriorating. There's no stopping the natural process of life and death.

But Dean illustrates to me just how important our brain is to our overall health. If our bodies are considered the temple of God, then surely the brain must be the Most Holy Place in that temple. We communicate to God through our thoughts, our brains. He resides there as surely as His glory shone above the ark of the covenant. Today and each day, I must be careful not to defile it.

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.

Remembering the Best

For a man who can't remember if he just had dinner five minutes before, my husband has remembered all week that we discussed going to church today. So I couldn't deny him the opportunity to attend the early service at the large college church this morning. I purposely only mentioned it that one time and waited to see if he would remember our conversation.

He mentioned it last night again for the first time in many days since we first discussed it, so I knew we would be going. I just couldn't deny him something that he has missed so much. Church attendance with him has proven very stressful for me in the recent past, and he has basically stopped attending our home church because of it.

But he wore his dress pants, street shoes, even tucked his shirt in today, like I requested. As a matter of fact, he was on his best behavior the whole time. We got there just as the service started, and left immediately afterward in order to meet the bath aide who was to arrive at the house at eleven o'clock. I, for one, breathed a sigh of relief when we pulled back into our driveway at home. All potential disasters averted.

What thrilled me the most though was the fact that he remembered that we talked about attending church today. For a man who forgets almost everything, even important things like food, it shows where his priorities lie. There is a portion of Dean's brain that isn't damaged or showing signs of old age. And that is his desire to worship God.

Oh, that we all had that priority straight in our lives. Forgetting all else, let's all remember God.

Dean's Memory

I have a list and a thousand things to remember and do tomorrow to get ready for Women's Retreat this weekend. In addition to remembering my oxygen equipment, the Bi-pap machine, tubing, and portable container, I will have my laptop and notes for conducting a seminar on Sabbath/Saturday about caregiving.

Then there are things to remember for Dean while I'm gone. Even though he won't be totally alone in the house, my nephew is here, I'm sure Dean will feel alone with me gone. I will be making frequent phone calls, so he won't feel so lost. I really am his "memory" these days.

I just pray that God will use me in this seminar. Non-caregivers don't have a clue about what it's like to be a caregiver. I will probably mostly have caregivers come to my "break-out" session, but I'm hoping the information will spread out, even from the few who will attend.

I will report back next week. Keep me in your prayers.

Remembering to Ask

It amazes me what Dean has the power to remember and what he forgets, as he struggles with his dementia memory loss. No matter how conscientious we are about asking a blessing before we eat, for instance, there are times when we all forget to say a blessing before a meal, and this is not considered out of the ordinary. Once in awhile, Dean even forgets.

But there is another time when Dean virtually never forgets to ask a blessing. It is whenever he is about to open the Word of God or study anything of a spiritual nature. He always opens and closes our worship times with prayer to ask the Holy Spirit to guide our minds to a right understanding of the Scriptures. In all our years of marriage, I have seldom seen him forget this very important practice.

As we began our worship just this morning, I took note that it is usually Dean who remembers to ask for the blessing of our spiritual food, the Bread of heaven. His presence is always welcome, but I know even God likes an invitation. Jesus counseled us to form this habit when He said, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" Luke 11:13

There you have it. We have only to ask.

P.S. During our closing prayer this morning, Dean almost forgot MY NAME! I told you it was amazing.

Remember to Forget

It seems like there is something I forgot to tell my daughter the last time we talked on the phone today. How annoying to not remember something that might be important. It feels like it was something important, but for the life of me, I can't recall what it was I wanted to tell her.

Imagine what it must be like for people with dementia, brain injury, or anyone with short term memory loss. How totally disabling for my husband to not be able to remember what he had at his last meal, or even whether he had a meal. To constantly have to remind himself what day it is by posting it in several places around the house, looking at his watch, or asking me, his caregiver.

There is something Dean will not let himself forget though. And that is to tell me and show me his love. He does it multiple times throughout the day with hugs and kisses and verbal and written I love you's. When something is that important to you, you don't let your memory be an excuse for not getting it done.

God has asked His people to remember something too. A day when He wants us to love Him multiple times, just like Dean. Sabbath is a day we've been asked to remember, a day to draw especially closer to Him and forget that we have a care in the world.

Now that's something we would all love to forget...the cares of the world.

Forgetting to Remember

I have come to the conclusion that it is a waste of time getting DVDs for Dean at the library. I painstakingly chose some today that I thought he might not have seen. He is on the second go-round for one of them that I brought home. I told him when it started the second time that he had already seen all of it. He said, "Oh, well, I can't remember it."

That is just one change in Dean's dementia. There are other subtle things, but fortunately it is all very gradual. He used to notice if he had seen a video within the last year or so, then it was anything in the past week or day. Now he's watching them back to back!

Isn't this how we fall into sin though? Rather gradually? It can creep in without our knowing it, but not without our permission. What a careful watch we must have on our senses. Satan is looking for a way to cause us to forget God. That is one kind of dementia none of us can afford to have.

A Piece of Cake

Dean is at our brain injury support group by himself tonight. I didn't feel anyone would want exposure to my cold, so I dropped him off--with name tags and refreshments (it was our month). I'm sure he'll do alright there by himself. We've known these people for ten years. Same meeting place, same time, same night of the month. We give reminder calls just before the meeting night though. I called my list just today, rather late. No excuse, I was even reminded to do the reminding. Oh, dear. Is my memory slipping too?

I remember one elderly couple who used to come to our meetings years ago. He had a head injury and the wife was his caregiver. Over the course of a few years, however, it became obvious to some in our group that she was having memory problems too. What a sad affair! Neither of them being able to remember appointments, etc. I was hoping they had family who was ready to step in and take over her caregiving duties when it got bad enough. I believe they finally did.

Who knows what the future holds for any of us? I'm just barely in my sixties, and these things do weigh on my mind. Probably because I have dealt with Dean's dementia and memory loss for so long already. My family and I are pretty much professionals by now. So, it should be a piece of cake for us. Right?

Not so fast here. If there's one thing I've learned as a caregiver, it's that no one has all the answers or skills needed to deal with the hard issues of life. No one, that is, except God. The thing I fear most is not being dependent on others, but not having God to depend on. And of course, that will never happen with our awesomely faithful God. His promise was and is: "And lo, I am with you ALWAYS."