Remembering the Memorial

Nearly a month has gone by since Dean's passing. We just had his memorial service at church this past weekend. We couldn't afford anything but the basic cremation, but I was happy to be able to organize the program myself. It was a soul-searching, emotional ride of trying to condense my husband's life into a mere hour, but I think it came off very well.

It felt good to do this final thing for him. Dean had a legacy of being a Spirit-driven Christian man. I merely wanted to share it with as many people as I could to cap off the life of the man who had captured my heart forty-five years ago. Dementia has a way of hiding our best qualities, but I wanted to flesh out his entire life for those who have only known him since his brain injury.

I know I was blessed by the program, and I hope others were as well. From the visitation that occurred after it was over, I believe it served the purpose I had in mind. Which was not to glorify Dean as a person, but to show what it means to cling to God, despite all the challenges life throws at you.

The speakers, who shared about Dean, all had the same theme of what a blessing he was to so many people. And this was all after his disabling tractor accident 19 years ago. It's just amazing how God can turn our worst tragedies into our greatest blessings, if we will let Him take control of our life and use us to serve others.

I'm not sure I'll have much to blog about now that Dean is gone. But I intend to continue my efforts to support other caregivers. I've always wondered what it would feel like when fate would take the role of caregiver from me. But I now see that caregiving, in any capacity and for any amount of time, makes permanent changes to your heart. I now have more time to contemplate and enhance the work that God has done on my heart through caregiving. I guess, in truth, I'll always be one.

Jesus Is My Boss

It is with utmost sadness and grief that I find myself a former caregiver, as of today. My husband, whom I've seen through multiple life-threatening crises over the years, has finally breathed his last at a care facility that he's been at for over a year now. My daughter and I were with him as much as possible his last day with us. Even though he was unresponsive to our voices and touch, it felt right for us to be by his side.

I'm so glad I saw him just the day before too. We had an unusually good time visiting then. It seemed he was awake and alert longer than I had seen him in quite awhile. One other thing that struck me as a bit strange was that he asked me to wear one of his ball caps. Evidently, he'd been wearing both his old cowboy hat and a ball cap that said "Jesus is my boss" for a few days. Some friends who had been to see him took his picture wearing them.

Why he would give the cap to me, and insist I wear it, was rather puzzling. But it wasn't until the next day when we got the call from his nurses about his rapid decline that I realized that he was trying to tell me something by his gesture. My only "boss" now would be Jesus. He was turning me over to Him.

What a gift from this man I thought I was taking care of for eighteen years. Really, all along he's been taking care of me. The faith in Jesus he encouraged and supported was not only needed to live with him all these years, but it will be the same faith I will need to live without him.