Eyeglasses Search

The other night found Dean and I once again searching for a misplaced item. His eyeglasses had been missing for a couple of days and I was finally determined to look everywhere for them. He thought they must be in his eyeglass case because it was missing too.

Normally he keeps the case on his bedside stand. So I proceeded to scour that area first. Standing on my head practically to see if it had fallen at the head of the bed or even under the bed. With no success there, I fanned my search out to other areas of the bedroom and then all rooms of the house.

How totally ridiculous I felt when Dean came to bed that night. He lifted one of his two pillows to fluff before lying down, and you guessed it...there was the glasses case! Safely tucked under his pillow.

When trials have come in the past to this household, I've often wondered where God is. No matter how frantically I've searched for God though, it's usually not until I lay down to "rest" that His presence becomes obvious.

Perhaps this is why God gave us a "day of rest". He mysteriously does seem easier to find on the day He blessed for that purpose. Some say that keeping the Sabbath is obeying through our works, but true Sabbath observance is not about works--not about searching frantically on our own--but resting in Jesus and what He's done for us already.

Silly Pleasures

I've heard of people with dementia having wandering behaviors, and I just naturally think of them taking a walk through the neighborhood...actually someone else's neighborhood by the time they get through. Police are often called to assist in these haphazard excursions of the elderly.

But I would like to declare another genre of wandering behavior. It might be called telephone wander lust. Every time Dean sees an 800-number lately he feels compelled to call it. I can't tell you how many times I have rescued him from being a scam target.

The nurse at his doctor's office even called me the other day, wondering if we had put in a request for a back brace. I timidly explained that it was the result of one of his calls, answering a TV ad. It's getting downright scary what he might get himself involved in. And I don't know how to reel him in from this silly and potentially harmful practice.

Most of the time he just gets them to mail us information, as if we don't get enough junk mail already. And speaking of mail. I've also had to be careful of his mailing in postcards and ordering "stuff" with any postage paid invitations that he happens to come across. It doesn't matter what it is, if the word "free" is on it, he wants it. I'm trying to be the first one to the mailbox these days, but it isn't always easy.

I'm not sure why these activities are so enjoyable to him. I think he just has a desire to reach out and feel like he's still a normal human being, who can conduct business on his own.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh with him and allow him these pleasures as long as I can. My first instinct is to get rid of the television, toss out our landline phone, and get our mail delivered to a post office box. But then again, I'll probably just wait and see where it all goes.

After all, isn't God just as patient with some of my silly pleasures?

A Long Stretch

Last night, Dean struck me in the middle of the night. Yes, he's done it before--just stretched his arm over to see if I'm still in bed, but making contact with my nose instead. It's similar to what we do to each other verbally during the day.

We don't mean it. It just happens. And like after our nocturnal mishap, it doesn't take long to forgive each other and move on. Caregiving is fraught with episodes of close verbal contact, that often end up as the "crash and clash" variety.

This is one time Dean's short term memory does us both good though. I need to apologize right away before he forgets the experience. And he needs to apologize right away for the same reason. It sure works for us.

Quick repentance and forgiveness is one lesson the Lord has taught me through this caregiving journey. Life is too short for grudges, guilt, and remorse. It's best to come clean as soon as possible. Even when you get slugged in the face in the middle of the night.

The Team Challenge

Last night our son-in-law came over to set up a new wireless printer for me. Could have done it myself, but wouldn't have been easy; and besides it was a chance to see the grandkids for an evening.

In order to get the house quieter though while he worked, our daughter took her dad somewhere so it was just the kids and I in the house. Believe me, it was an even trade-off. Two little girls for one big man/child.

The noise factor from the girls was kept confined to the hallway where they ran back and forth with Superman-style capes (really small blankets), trying to run fast enough to make the capes lift like parachutes.

It reminded me of a report I got from our daughter after a recent store trip she had with her dad. She said he challenged someone else riding in a department store power-chair to race him. So believe it or not, they both raced their "buggies" from one end of the store to the other to see whose cart was fastest.

Life itself is a race. Sometimes I feel like retiring my track shoes, but the people around me indicate that I'd better stay in the race awhile longer. God isn't through with this caregiver yet. And I'd better do all I can to stay fit in order to keep up with the team.

Valentine's Day Sleepover Interruption

What a joyous Valentine's Day we had this weekend! Just like Christmas being about the children, we were blessed with more time with our two adorable granddaughters coming over for a "sleepover". I'm sure their parents didn't mind another "date-night" on their schedule as well.

We try to space these events every few months, mostly because it isn't easy for me to juggle the care of an active preschooler and a first grader, and a sometimes-immature, well alot-of-times, immature old man.

The last thing I told him before we went to sleep was to be sure and let the girls sleep (they prefer camping out on the living room floor) and not get them up for Sunday pancakes too soon. Dean has been mysteriously waking up in the wee hours of the morning a lot, and I was hoping for once he would stay in bed and not pursue his word-search puzzles and solitaire out on the dining room table--just a stone's throw from where they'd be sleeping.

After finally getting them to sleep by ten o'clock, I was not pleased to wake up at about four and hear three voices coming from the other end of the house. Dean had been up since three, he said, and decided it was time for pancakes. The kitchen sounds and smells must have wakened the girls, who had declined the pancake invitation, saying they'd rather wait for grandma.

I tried to remain calm, thankful for the few hours of sleep I had just had, but doubtful if any more were coming. I hurried the girls into my big bed to encourage them back to sleep, and gave strict orders to the man in my life to sleep in his recliner (which he does half the time anyway) if he needed to.

All was not lost; the girls did drift back to sleep to the sounds of grandma's oxygen concentrator, but the same sleep escaped me for the moment, to be substituted for a nice nap the next day.

Dean remained on his own turf in the living room. But I felt compelled to check the stove a couple of times, just to assure that his pancakes were cooked appropriately. One black one left on a plate did not make me feel comfortable about his turning the stove off when he was done.

There have been many times in my own life that I'm sure I overlooked God's final instructions for me, leading to various degrees of crises He's had to see me through. How gracious and patient God is to "check up" on me as well.

I try to comfort myself with the thought that no matter how much turbulence I experience in my flight to heaven, God is the pilot, seatbelt, and flight attendant, overseeing reaching my final destination on schedule. What a great Caregiver He is!

The Ultimate Snow Day

Everyone looks forward to a "snow day" now and then when schools and jobs implore you to stay home and be safe from the frigid weather. We had one again this week, and I must say it was a welcome but brief reprieve from our daily routine. As we tend to linger in bed a bit longer in the morning, we have mental images of lounging by a warm fire and sipping on hot chocolate all day.

However, I found myself rescheduling appointments and finding out when the next meeting that was cancelled might reconvene. And most annoying was that the same caregiving tasks needed to be done, leaving me little time to even make that hot chocolate, let alone sip on it.

I'm sure even schoolchildren were disappointed to discover that their school assignments were not overlooked that day, but squeezed tightly into their already heavy schedules.

This has left me with a new appreciation of heaven. When the Lord declares a "snow day" up there (and I have a hunch it might be about every seventh day--Isaiah 66:23), we will truly have a rest and a reprieve from all the normal, but pleasant, duties that await us in our new home. Praise to God for designing and declaring the ultimate "snow day".

The Mystery Whistler

As many married folk have been known to do, we have accused each other of snoring during the night, with expected denials by the accused party.

Last night was no different. Once again, just as I would be about to drop off to sleep, I repeatedly found myself awakened by an annoying whistling sound that just had to be coming from one of Dean's famous snoring episodes.

Curiously enough he would stop whistling the minute I woke up, turned off my bi-pap machine, took off my nasal mask, and began to ask him to stop making the noise. After about the third time, it began to dawn on me that my nasal mask must have been losing its "seal" and causing the offending whistle. Dean had informed me that sometimes I whistled in my sleep, but I naturally didn't believe him.

Jesus' plea came alive for me: "Judge not...why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:3) For me it would be "why do you accuse your husband of snoring, but do not consider your own annoying whistles?"

Even caregivers need to take their eyes off others and look at their own needy selves for a reality check now and then.

Machine that gave me a whistle and a laugh!