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.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Monday, February 16, 2015
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!
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!
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
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".
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".
Thursday, January 15, 2015
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.
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.
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| Machine that gave me a whistle and a laugh! |
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Wearing a New Hat For a New Year
We weren't visited by angels Christmas Eve, but it was close. Our two angelic granddaughters, accompanied by their mom and dad, came over to share a supper and gift-opening time with us. I love planning and preparing a meal for more than just Dean and I, so that was a special treat for me. Even if it was just "haystacks", or "walking tacos", as some call them.
Our entertaining schedule has been light for many years now since Dean's accident. Tight finances, coupled with Dean's low capacity for crowds and distractions, has put our hospitality ministry on hold. So, I was really excited about having family over that night. There weren't a whole lot of gifts to open, but enough to whet the kids' appetites for Santa's gifts the next day.
And speaking of appetites, Dean's been having a raging one recently. For Christmas he got some potato chips, two bags of M&Ms, and chewing gum from the granddaughters. We all (except me) thought he'd make them last, since I mostly try to keep him away from calorie-loaded treats. But they were all gone by the end of Christmas Day. (Except for the gum...because he couldn't remember where he stashed it.)
The one gift he got that night that will last was the new cowboy hat they gave him. It is a great improvement over the old battered one he was wearing.
Christmas, coming right before the New Year, is the perfect time for replacing the old with the new.
Our entertaining schedule has been light for many years now since Dean's accident. Tight finances, coupled with Dean's low capacity for crowds and distractions, has put our hospitality ministry on hold. So, I was really excited about having family over that night. There weren't a whole lot of gifts to open, but enough to whet the kids' appetites for Santa's gifts the next day.
And speaking of appetites, Dean's been having a raging one recently. For Christmas he got some potato chips, two bags of M&Ms, and chewing gum from the granddaughters. We all (except me) thought he'd make them last, since I mostly try to keep him away from calorie-loaded treats. But they were all gone by the end of Christmas Day. (Except for the gum...because he couldn't remember where he stashed it.)
The one gift he got that night that will last was the new cowboy hat they gave him. It is a great improvement over the old battered one he was wearing.
Christmas, coming right before the New Year, is the perfect time for replacing the old with the new.
"Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." II Corinthians 5:17
May we all look forward to a New Year in Christ.
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| He's still not ready to retire the old hat, however. Guess I can't blame him--looks like it's got some history! |
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Following His Directions
The light snow we got last night and this morning set my mood for some Christmas baking for the neighbors while Dean was gone to his day program. Actually, I had this baking scheduled anyway for today, but the snow just made it seem more appropriate to the season.
I ended up making three batches of fudge, only two of them were planned. They were very easy recipes with simple ingredients (my two criteria for baking and/or cooking these days). First some chocolate fudge (first time using the microwave method), and then I made some peanut butter fudge, using the stove. The peanut butter fudge set up so well, compared to the chocolate one, that I decided to do a makeover with the second bag of chocolate chips I had on hand, with much better results.
It was my own careless disregard of following the exact directions the first time that caused the first fudge failure. And although the second one wasn't as firm as the peanut butter variety, I was much more pleased with the final product.
This was a reminder to me of the wisdom of following God's exact directions when it comes to my life. The closer I follow His recipe, the more satisfying will be the outcome.
I ended up making three batches of fudge, only two of them were planned. They were very easy recipes with simple ingredients (my two criteria for baking and/or cooking these days). First some chocolate fudge (first time using the microwave method), and then I made some peanut butter fudge, using the stove. The peanut butter fudge set up so well, compared to the chocolate one, that I decided to do a makeover with the second bag of chocolate chips I had on hand, with much better results.
It was my own careless disregard of following the exact directions the first time that caused the first fudge failure. And although the second one wasn't as firm as the peanut butter variety, I was much more pleased with the final product.
This was a reminder to me of the wisdom of following God's exact directions when it comes to my life. The closer I follow His recipe, the more satisfying will be the outcome.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Birthday "Boy"
This has been an unusual birthday year for Dean. Number one, he admits that he doesn't know when he's looked forward to his birthday so much (on December 4). For months now, he has been counting the months, then days, then even hours, reminding all his family and friends that it was getting close. And it's not even a big-zero event yet (waiting for that one next year--the big 7-0).
Not surprisingly he woke up at three in the morning on the day of his birthday and I heard him softly singing "Happy Birthday" to himself! It certainly left me wondering what's come over this man. Is it just part of his dementia?
When I mentioned that perhaps he was experiencing a second childhood and reliving what a birthday felt like when he was a kid, he said that his birthday was recognized growing up, but as he looks back on it, it probably was rather combined with Christmas.
Sensing his enthusiasm now though I made sure I baked him a cake from scratch. One of his favorites, a carrot cake. I was glad his birthday came on a day he attended Easterday, his day program, so he was able to share the cake with the other clients there (almost like having a party).
The night before, I showed him my present. A new quilted flannel shirt that he was really needing to keep warm (a size larger than last year's, and it's almost impossible to get him to wear a coat these days.) I could tell he was anxious to show it off to his friends the next day.
After he came home from the day program on his birthday, I took him out to eat at a Mexican restaurant he's been wanting to try. My daughter and our two granddaughters topped his day off by surprising him when we got home with a visit that included a beautiful neck scarf, a candy bar, some M&Ms, and homemade cards and pictures.
To make the day even more special, my sister called him that night and he gave her a minute-by-minute account of his special birthday. I was amazed at the childlike nature of his birthday enjoyment.
Seeing the difference in his birthday enthusiasm this year made me stop and think about my looking forward to the Second Coming. Am I as anxious for that event as I should be? Wouldn't Jesus love to see a little more childlike excitement on my part in looking forward to it?
Christmas is nice for celebrating Christ's birth, but shouldn't the Second Coming be with the same holiday spirit? I wouldn't want God to feel shortchanged and not get the celebration that He deserves.
Not surprisingly he woke up at three in the morning on the day of his birthday and I heard him softly singing "Happy Birthday" to himself! It certainly left me wondering what's come over this man. Is it just part of his dementia?
When I mentioned that perhaps he was experiencing a second childhood and reliving what a birthday felt like when he was a kid, he said that his birthday was recognized growing up, but as he looks back on it, it probably was rather combined with Christmas.
Sensing his enthusiasm now though I made sure I baked him a cake from scratch. One of his favorites, a carrot cake. I was glad his birthday came on a day he attended Easterday, his day program, so he was able to share the cake with the other clients there (almost like having a party).
The night before, I showed him my present. A new quilted flannel shirt that he was really needing to keep warm (a size larger than last year's, and it's almost impossible to get him to wear a coat these days.) I could tell he was anxious to show it off to his friends the next day.
After he came home from the day program on his birthday, I took him out to eat at a Mexican restaurant he's been wanting to try. My daughter and our two granddaughters topped his day off by surprising him when we got home with a visit that included a beautiful neck scarf, a candy bar, some M&Ms, and homemade cards and pictures.
To make the day even more special, my sister called him that night and he gave her a minute-by-minute account of his special birthday. I was amazed at the childlike nature of his birthday enjoyment.
Seeing the difference in his birthday enthusiasm this year made me stop and think about my looking forward to the Second Coming. Am I as anxious for that event as I should be? Wouldn't Jesus love to see a little more childlike excitement on my part in looking forward to it?
Christmas is nice for celebrating Christ's birth, but shouldn't the Second Coming be with the same holiday spirit? I wouldn't want God to feel shortchanged and not get the celebration that He deserves.
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| His new shirt (with hoodie)! |
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