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

 

Give Me Oil

I was taking a stroll down memory lane today, going through a box of photos that we were given after Dean's father passed away last year. It was so special to see these glimpses into Dean's past, because I had never seen most of them. They were buried in his parents' house somewhere. I had little idea what Dean looked like as a child, let alone as a baby.

My purpose in this activity was to have some of the photos on display when he has his birthday celebration this weekend. But the outcome for me was a melancholy feeling, as I was forced to acknowledge the changes that both Dean and I have been through over the years.

The most striking change was after his accident. Instantly, it seemed, I was married to a man far beyond his chronological years. And I, in turn, have aged much too quickly, due to the stresses of caregiving, and my own oxygen issues.

But there is some happiness in my heart when I remember that we are still the carefree little boy and girl, the shy teenagers, and the purposeful young adults that we once were. They're still inside us somewhere.

Why, just the other day Dean totally surprised me when he found himself under the hood of our car. Granted, it was just to check the oil and add a quart, before we made a short trip out of town. But to me it was noteworthy enough to get out of the car and take his picture doing it. It was so typical of him to do these kind of tasks for us before his accident.

Thank you, Lord, for these little reminders that our bodies may be failing, but You never fail us. You have given us what it takes to survive this aging planet of ours. Help us to be filled with the oil of your Spirit, so we will be ready, no matter what the exit from this world looks like for us.

Can't put on his socks, but can still add oil to a car!

Remembering Me

We had a super good time with in-laws tonight. The Thanksgiving food was great and the visiting was lively. We met in a different venue--the community room of my daughter's apartment complex. So, the setup was a bit complex with multiple trips to transport food and other items.

As often happens, we vastly overestimated how much we would eat, so several families went home with leftovers. But that's alright. You kind of expect that with holiday meals. It just seemed more daunting, because of the work of transporting the food all over again.

I usually find myself taking pictures at family events like this, and consequently I am seldom in any of the shots, which is kind of nice, as I don't feel I'm very photogenic anyway. But today my husband asked to take a picture of me when my two granddaughters were sitting on my lap. It was just the kind of shot I would love to have, so I got up, went clear across the room and gave him the camera to get our picture. It didn't come out the best, but I was grateful for Dean, thinking of me not being in any of the pictures.

For a man with dementia, he remembers me. And I'm thankful for that.

That's me and the two girls, clear across the room. He just took it from his comfortable spot on the couch.

Box of Memories

Nothing stirs up memories like long-lost photos. My husband just got a whole box of memories today from his sister. They were the prizes won for emptying out his dad's house after he passed away recently. It was such a joy to see all the photos we hadn't seen for years and many we had never seen. Once we got started, we just couldn't quit until the box was empty and the photos were somewhat sorted.

Both of us had started looking through the box on our own at different times today, but it was decided that we just had to wait till we could do it together. Aren't memories like that though, so much more enjoyable when they can be shared with someone?

Isn't this the kind of relationship God wants to have with us? One of closeness and sharing? And even if we haven't always been close to God all our lives, we can get close to Him easily. Because He shares our history, the same as our siblings and spouses. He knows all our experiences already, and He is so anxious for us to share with Him through prayer all our joyous moments, and our trials. Nothing is too personal to bring before the Lord. He longs to help you sort through your box of memories too.

Studio Smiles

Today my daughter and I picked up some studio photos we had taken of our little Julia at a Wal-Mart store awhile back. I remember the day the pictures were taken. We spent over an hour and only managed to get two or three "half-smiles" out of this one-year-old. She was a tough cookie to crack! And I have always bragged about Julia's sweet little smile she has for anyone. A smile is just her natural facial expression. Evidently not when she's in front of a camera though...

I wonder how many times we are not ourselves "when the cameras are rolling." Either we are sweet and cuddly in our private lives and totally out of character in public. Or perhaps we keep our nice personality up front only when the public is there to witness it, but are very difficult to live with at home.

Lord, help me to show only one side of my character and let that side reflect the lovely Lord Jesus. This is the best way to be a witness to others, including all the others we come in contact with every day. I pray our little Julia will learn this also as she grows up...but maybe, just maybe, she'll at least have the smiles down the next time we are in a studio!