Caregiving Etiquette

Finally Dean got to use his Burger King gift card he got for Christmas. We went there for supper today and ate in the BK dining room. Not just drive-thru for this fast-food special occasion. It was a good time to be there, just before the supper rush, and it appeared we were the only customers for awhile at least.

We made our food choices, and Dean was trying to count out the exact change from a handful of coins in his hand. He was starting to get a bit frustrated with the effort it was taking. So I appealed to him to let me get the coins for the cashier, since there were now people behind us waiting in line. He relented and we then proceeded to find a table with our food.

Dean, of course, had his usual large Coke under control, I thought, until he set it down by the tray of food on the table and then knocked it over with his hand, spilling most of the contents, on the table, on the chair, on the floor, and on himself.

With a bit of embarrassment I informed the cashier that we had a rather major mishap, involving Coke spillage at our table. He was so polite and understanding about taking care of it. I hoped it wasn't just an outward showing of customer service etiquette he was forced to adhere to, but that it was evidence of a sincere compassion on two senior citizens, who were just doing the best they could.

I hope I can exemplify this in my life as well. I pray that my patient and loving behavior doesn't become just an outward showing of caregiving etiquette that I'm forced to adhere to, but that it stems from an overflow of loving patience that my heavenly Father has exhibited toward me, and continues to show each and every day of my life.

Our Puzzling Lives

The last few days I've been working on a 750-pc. puzzle on my kitchen table and I must say I forgot how therapeutic it can be to work on such a project. Life has slowed down a lot since Dean's been sleeping so much, and we've been staying home more. So I came across this puzzle when I was cleaning a closet last week, and today I finished it. Or as Dean says, WE finished it. I gave him the last piece to put in.

As I worked on the puzzle, several thoughts came to mind. First of all, our lives are like a puzzle. Two qualities that make puzzle solving possible are patience and perseverance, also necessary for solving life's problems. As I worked on the puzzle, I also noticed how necessary it was to look at things from all angles and perspectives.

Sometimes a piece looks like it will fit, but it doesn't, and you just can't force it in the spot it wasn't designed for. We can try to fit ourselves into spots that God's will hasn't ordained for us, and the picture we end up with is marred, just like my puzzle would be if I tried to fit in pieces that were wrong.

When I was done, I felt like congratulating myself on a such a fine piece of art, even though I wasn't the artist. And likewise God, the Master Artist and Creator, deserves all the praise when our lives end up attractive in any way. But you know, if we lose a piece or two from the puzzle, people will still be able to make out the picture. We shouldn't worry over lost opportunities or mistakes in life. They just happen. God can still use us to reveal His perfect will in the end.

Dean, with his brain injury from the accident, has pieces missing from his brain, but that won't affect his final picture on Resurrection Morning at the Second Coming. I know I'll be able to recognize fully the whole picture of Dean. He's been an interesting puzzle to work with these 37 years we've been married. And God has taught me a lot of lessons along the way.

Called The Blessing of Summer, by Thomas Kincaide

Party, Party

Yesterday was a stream of visitors, dropping by to wish Dean a happy birthday. The most we had in our living room was five or six, but that was just about right for my attention-deficit husband, for the amount of time they stayed. He handled the extra population quite well. I've always been a fan of "come-and-go". It's the best option for entertaining, when you have limited floor space in your home.

Equally well-behaved was our little dog Minnie. She's as friendly as Dean when it comes to strangers. And she can bark out her wishes almost as loud as Dean too, especially when people show up on our doorstep. But she performed her announcing and welcoming duties very graciously the whole afternoon.

Minnie even provided us with some entertainment when her attempts to get in someone's lap ended with her falling in a small trash can by their chair. She noticed too late that the visitor had a plate of birthday cake already in her lap. The poor dog's look of embarrassment at her predicament was humorous beyond words. I was torn between running for my camera or coming to her rescue and getting her out of the jaws of the trash can. The rescue option won out. I couldn't bear to see her struggle very long, even though we were all getting such a chuckle out of her awkward situation.

I am also thankful we have a God who approaches our mishaps and trials with the same attitude. He can hardly bear to see us struggle, and I'm sure doesn't allow it any longer than necessary to accomplish His all-encompassing will. Either for our own salvation purposes, for someone else's, or for unseen-to-us heavenly objectives. We find ourselves occasionally unable to extricate ourselves from places where only the power of God can rescue us. I'm also glad God doesn't have to rush to get His camera. He's got it all recorded.

So sweet of her to pose for this picture later. This is exactly where she landed, instead of a visitor's lap!

Thanks so much for the delicious cake, Cheryl! Made Dean feel extra special. It was half gone in no time. And would have been all gone, if I hadn't said no to the granddaughters so much.

Youth is fleeting...where do the years go?

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!

The Tractor Tragedy

This marks an anniversary of sorts. The fact that it falls on the Sabbath makes it all the more poignant. I believe it was on a Friday thirteen years ago that Dean actually had a tractor run over him, causing him multiple life-threatening injuries, including coma and brain injury. So, we celebrated Sabbath on the Labor Day weekend by his bedside in ICU, wondering if he would live or die. And our family has never been the same since. It hasn't been all bad, by any means, but it definitely has been changed from what it was.

When we come to God, we likewise should expect some changes. And it also stems from a life-or-death experience. In many ways, our faith has grown immensely from what, at the time, was an overpowering tragedy.

Tragedy has the power to uplift us, but it also has the power to bring us down. The decision is ours. The attitude we have about even small inconveniences in our life are shaping us for the big stuff. The biggest predictor of success at handling the trials that come to us is the faith and walk with God we have every day.

The trials will come, but they don't have to catch us unawares.