Happy almost New Year's

Love, love, love the turning of a calendar page, beginning a new week, a fresh new day, but especially a new year.  Gary says I always say I'm glad to begin a new year since the past one was so hard.  Surely I don't always say it.  Surely I'm more original than that.  But, I think I can honestly say that this one was very difficult.  But we all can.  Deaths, broken relationships, in my mom's case---a stroke, too much busyness, exhaustion, tight muscles, inability to relax, frustrating money situations, and the list goes on and on.

My focus in 2014 is to take better care of my health.  Was thinking with third son going to Basic Training for 9 weeks beginning January 14th, that I'll work on my own personal bootcamp here, along the same time. Gives me a time frame and a way to judge my progress, if I work alongside of him.  'Course he'll be way over in South Carolina, but you get what I'm trying to say.

With my mom's stroke, I've experienced a wake-up call.  Sure, she had it at 84 with little health issues before then (well, high b/p which precipitated it), and that's a pretty darn good track record.  But, with my migraines, figure taking care of my heart and brain would be an excellent use of my time.

So, today deep breaths.  Tomorrow a re-focus.  May God bless us all.

Mom stuff

I realize to most of you, the documenting here of setting up my mom's Medicaid, etc. is boring reading. Also the stroke.  Maybe not interesting, but there's a lot of information that's new to me.  Territory I've/we've not been through before.  But....I figure that sometime it'll be helpful to somebody.

Awhile back, I read a blog from a woman whose husband had suddenly died.  She was faced with heaps of paperwork and details she'd not anticipated.  She was bitter and overwhelmed. And while reading her trials depressed me, part of what she went through, and continues to go through, is educational to those of us who haven't had to deal with tragedy like that.

Thankfully my parents (and now my mom) are and were organized.  Within an hour fourth son and I were able to get hold of the necessary papers to have her Medicaid set up.  (I still have yet to talk to an official person, though.  That's coming in January.)  Those consisted of 3 months of bank statements, life insurance papers, driver's license, Medicare card, SS card, death certificate for my dad, proof of her Social Security deposits, and what I forgot was proof of whose name her house is in.  I can get hold of her deed, so that's not an issue. Plus, she can't have over $2,000.00 in the bank.  That's the way it is. For her to get coverage these are the parameters, least from what I've been told from the Rehab's business office. For a total of 100 days in Rehab, which she's used 25 of, Medicare and Medicaid will pay 100%.

With that taken care of, and her with drawers full of clean clothes, I'm taking the next two days off.  It was a wash this weekend, trying to rest and still feel wired up. Hoping I can get my head in the right place and chill.  Least, that's the plan.

Sunday night

A good day.  Prayer at the altar led by our priest for our son who's joined the Guard, sweet visit with my mom, and one of the crowning moments was being able to gather all the necessary papers for my mom's Medicaid application. Lots of paper.  Once again, I felt a tremendous weight fall of my shoulders.  Will call the office tomorrow to see about having them copied.  Wonderful.  Plus, since Mom's been told how long she can stay in Rehab with Medicare/Medicaid footing the bill, I'm seeing her apply herself more.  The dangling carrot is the next stop for her being home. I realize it's been hard to be away from home almost 2 months, but she seems to get it that she's got to work hard.  I was proud to see her seeming driven.  Plus, she now has a room mate, and that helps.  Really a God-given situation---a sweet 96 year old woman who broke her leg in a car accident, and yes, she was driving!  She's adorable, is Methodist like my mom, and they seem to get along very well.  I think for my social mother, it's a plus to have company, albeit there's a curtain often separating them.

Going to enjoy our son for the next two weeks since he leaves a week from tomorrow.  I don't think it's hit me yet.  Denial?  Not so much, but feeling overwhelmed.  We won't see him for over 2 months, I think, and that'll be his Basic Training graduation.  All the little girls can say to that is, Road Trip!  Then he's off for two more months.  He tends to be a homebody, liking to go out and about, but savoring the safety of home.  This will be a challenge for him, and Gary's concerned with the influences he'll be faced with.  Considering how hard this past spring was with his struggles, maybe he's past the hardest temptations that he walked into voluntarily.  It's been a year.

Hope you're all well.  One day at a time, remember.

Nat'l Guard Day

Third son had to spend the night with the other recruits at a hotel, so they'd be ready to finish up testing, etc. this morning. He called me at about 9:50am today, and we had to hurry down to the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) location to be there for his swearing in.  Very official place.  Had to be buzzed in, and felt in a foreign sort of place.  See, we're not military, unless you want to count my dad and father-in-law and all grandfathers before us.  Draftees.  Nah.  Not military.

Anyway, his recruiter, who is a very sweet girl---young at 28, took these photos and several more.  Sure appreciate that. The girls wanted to go see him sworn in, but the boys were either at work, or just stayed at home.  Lots to follow.  He'll ship out (as they say) to basic training on January 13th. Whoosh.  He'll be in South Carolina for 9 weeks, followed by specialized training, who knows where, for 8 weeks.  I'll miss my baby.

I think I need a good cry.

Not resolutions, but maybe suggestions

Fourth son made me a hot cup of Chai in his Keurig machine after dinner.  I think the kids were being solicitous to me since I made a comment while dinner was warming that made them take notice.  I'd been out doing chore-type-things this afternoon---taking said son to friend's vet to drop off food for her dogs, dropping off third son at recruiter's office---he's to be sworn in tomorrow.  Then several of us stopped off at the store for a few items we'd run out of---dish soap, toilet paper, this and that. After we got home, I began taking out the leftovers from yesterday's Christmas dinner and put much of it in the oven. Then there was a sinkful of dishes to wash.  As time passed and the food was almost done, I realized I'd not sat down since we'd gotten home.  A full hour of standing on my feet, moving about in the kitchen, feeding Pugs, etc.  I commented on it and oldest daughter sent me to sit in the living room while she finished up.

I don't always realize how busy I stay until I get too exhausted to care.  I just keep on, keeping on.  Hoping this new year finds me able to delegate my time better.  With Mom's schedule being up in the air, as to what will happen when she gets out of rehab, I'd be smart to have a plan for self-care that works for me.  Having a parent who's had a stroke doesn't bode well for me if I'm neglectful of my own health now, does it?

More rest, time to be creative, maybe more of an ability to say no, and more solid home time.  Those are my wishes.

'Stones for Bread' by Christa Parrish

Christa Parrish's book called Stones for Bread is mesmerizing. After downloading the e-book to review, I instantly began reading, only to look forward so much to the next night's installment. Parrish's book is amazingly full of bread recipes, rich dialogue, and characters that are unique and totally believable.  I loved it.

About depression:  "In my mother, as dishes piled up and cocoons of dust huddled in corners and her dark moments overcame her.  No one should have to shrink this way."

Her sentences grab you and cause you to take notice.  I couldn't take it all in---such a beautiful story.

It's about a young woman, in her thirties, who's the owner of an artisan-style bakery.  Her bread is all original and far beyond anything I've ever tried to bake.  Works of art.  That's what Liesl McNamara creates.  But she has baggage.  The pain of her mother's suicide, and her dad's re-birth into the church which causes Liesl heartache since she feels he's in part abandoned her. Plus she becomes involved in a relationship which puts her in the position to make difficult choices.  Oh, and she's chosen to take part in a televised bake-off with a famous fancy baker. Lots going on, and highly recommended.

My only regret is that I wasn't able to receive a print copy of the book.  Would love to thumb through it, underlining and turning down corners.  I marked several passages, and with the Kindle, that's sort of difficult. Not impossible, but do-able.  Might order the hard copy just because.  It's that good.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson/booksneeze)

Merry Christmas to you...

I never put up family photos, but figured at Christmas, I'd go ahead.  And I'll even go the distance and tell you the kids' names.  Bottom photo:  Standing left to right:  Jonathan 28 (oldest), Joseph 22 (who's joining the National Guard), Willa 15, and Jacob 24.  Sitting:  Emma 11 (the least one), Jonah 17 (youngest boy), Anna 26 (who's dating sweet Indian boyfriend), and Joshua 20.  That's the lot of them.

This afternoon, while the turkey was in the oven, Gary stayed home to watch it and the kids went with me to visit my mom.  I felt a bit overwhelmed, having them all with me.  We filled up the elevator.  One of those mother's moments, you know.  They don't come often, but when they do, you need to stop a minute and savor them.

Funny.  Gary just laughed when he saw the photos he uploaded.  Hard to get everyone to cooperate.  And personally I think I look traumatized and G. thinks he'd fit into Duck Dynasty just fine.  Glad he doesn't wear camouflage clothes.

Anyway, Merry Christmas.  Now, go get some rest. :)

Christmas Eve Eve

• have spent all i'm gonna spend :)
• bought stocking stuffers today
• it's a low-key holiday, which is sweet
• tonight i took the girls to the Presbyterian mega-church we used to regularly visit for their Christmas service----well, one of about seven services
• my goodness
• oldest daughter laughed at us beforehand and said, "no bowing, crossing of yourselves, and no kneeling"
• yeah, made me laugh
• was good to sing praise music loudly
• i miss that sometimes
• will go to our church's Christmas Eve service tomorrow night---there might be thirty people there, or I might be surprised
• looking forward to lots of incense, which is promised
• there's nothing more i need right now---just that
• take care all

Mom update

As it stands now, my mom will stay at her current rehab until she's able to live alone, with minimal care. She's ready to leave now (in her head), but my brother made it clear to her that the speed at which she is self-motivated, will reflect the speed at which she improves.

We had an excellent meeting with the therapists' managers and the social worker...getting positive feedback, and direction on how to pay for her having further rehab.  That was an incredible relief....sharing this burden and getting real direction.

I finally feel as if someone besides me is holding the bag. Gary was ready to bring her home this week....meaning our house here, but that wasn't going to happen without me going nuts.

Thanks for any and all prayers.  I do so appreciate it. Can we celebrate Christmas now?

More thinking...

We've always told my mom that a nursing home (as a last ditch alternative) is out of the question.  My dad's mom was put in one after my grandfather died.  It wasn't the first choice, the main one being for her to stay at home and have cleaning help. And an uncle lived right next door, so you'd think it'd work.  But, no.  She was a bit combative with the help, and dug herself a tidy hole.  My dad and mom offered to have her at our house, but his older brothers put the kibosh on that and it never happened.  Away to the nursing home you go.

Gary was talking to his folks the other day about our situation with my mom.  They were very understanding, and as he was talking to me about it, Gary said, "Well, they both put parents in nursing homes."  My MIL found a place for her mother (not biological, but the one who raised her) who had Alzheimer's and they also found a spot for Gary's grandfather after his wife died. The one for my MIL's mom was specially for Alzheimer's patients. There was no practical way they could have cared for her, but with G's grandfather, it was more of a senior living situation. Not the wicked nursing homes folks talk about.

A close neighbor said the nursing home plan might be necessary. I pray that isn't so, since I'll be the one to live it down.  It's almost like if that's the final alternative, then my mother gives the impression that she in a tiny, odd way wants to be in a disagreeable situation so she can be the victim.  That might not make sense to you, but it really does to me.

Good grief, life is crazy.  Pray, pray, pray---then pray some more.

On Tuesday

'The Coat of Many Colors' by Louis Ginnett

Got to shop this morning through early afternoon. Many thanks to generous in-laws who yearly give us money to spend on the kids.  A huge blessing.  Had left the kids with instructions to wash the kitchen floor, feed Pugs, and do schoolwork.  They did it all, and I enjoyed having time to myself.  Think I'll do it again on Thursday morning. And got my mom's clothes delivered back to her.  She wasn't in the room, apparently in rehab, but that was good so I could run in and run out.  Time was at a minimum.

But tomorrow have decided to stay at home and bake bread to take to church tomorrow night.  We're having a party---well, lots of party sorts of things.  First off, the kids will make Chrismons (ornaments literally dripping in glitter which represent Christ), then we'll have a soup supper, then the Christmas pageant which really is the highlight of my holiday.  So Charlie Brown-ish.  I love it.  I'll help two of the other moms with directing the kids where to go, and when to do whatever it is they have to do.  It really is adorable.  And our least one is Mary this year. Lovely.

So tomorrow is all about recharging, not feeling guilty about anything, and filling my spirit up with homey things. Refreshment.  I need that.  While I tend to walk around tense all the time, this will be my excuse to rest and recharge myself. It is allowed.

Thoughts...

Think I'll go shopping in the morning.  Drop off my mom's clothes beforehand---she has therapy in the a.m. anyhow, so maybe can slip in and slip out.  Please don't think me cruel for timing my visits that way.  It's mental self-preservation.  I realize I probably paint my mom as an ogre, and really, I had a good childhood. It just sank into a hard place when I got married. And while my mom isn't evil, she has consistently put me in the category of difficult child.  Can't shake that one even though I've been the least rebellious.  Seems that's the pattern with a parent who has narcissistic-type tendencies.  One child, the one who does the dirty work (often a daughter), is shut out of the close love because of who they are.  The children who are less involved (and less known) seem to prance through their growing-up years without damage.  My two brothers are the golden children.  I'm not.  Case closed.  And because my mom is of such a different personality now, being very sweet and docile, I'm confused.  Her stroke left damage that seems to have cut out the mean parts. Doesn't mean that the scars have left, though.  Sadly enough.

I have a wall set up around me that only goes down when I'm safe at home.  This is the only place I exist that's not threatening.  And I believe that I'm in good company in that.

And I talk about this here because I'm both trying to come to terms with it, and put it in a place in my head. My personal contact with my mom will change and likely increase when she comes home from rehab---most likely Christmas week.  Hopefully after Christmas.

Just trying to preserve some bit of sanity.

'Awakening Faith' by James Stuart Bell

The introduction to Awakening Faith which is compiled by James Stuart Bell and Patrick J. Kelly says the following: "Perceptive readers will notice the Fathers' almost exclusive focus on personal virtue rather than broader societal changes, which may be frustrating at first blush to Christians whose understanding gives primacy to social justice."

Current evangelical writers place a lot of importance on voting, morality based on social issues and post modern thinking.  The writers in Awakening Faith talk about self-discipline, guarding your hearts, sacrifice, and cut to the heart of what a believer's life should represent.  They talk about personal responsibility in the light of Who Christ really is.

I find it very refreshing and a wonderful resource for morning or evening devotions.  And for me as an Anglican to be able to read the Early Church Fathers is a joy.  Many of the names are familiar to me from the Book of Common Prayer and are also mentioned in The Way of a Pilgrim, another classic.  I also appreciate that a thorough list is given at the back of the book telling basic facts about the Church Fathers.  Excellent.

(i received this book free to review from booksneeze/thomas nelson)

Quieting my thoughts...

Took a nap and then went with the least one to see my mom. All of the clothes I washed and took up there on Wednesday were dirty, and I took a lot.  Surely a week's worth, I thought. A tad frustrated at the rehab place not putting much emphasis on my mom re-learning basic bathroom skills.  Diapers it is.  I realize that that is a hugely time-consuming task to teach someone after a stroke, but that was at the top of the list in things we wanted her to master (in its way) before coming home.  Makes it tough.  One of my brothers will be in town on Friday, and will be at a meeting along with me at the rehab about the plan of action for the patients.  Not sure what that will entail, especially since it will only be in 15 minute increments.  Talk fast. Listen carefully.

Anyway, had to run a couple of errands after visiting her, including going to her house for bill paying, etc.  I don't like using Sundays as an ordinary day, but this time, couldn't be avoided.

When I got home, asked Gary how he thought the Lord would have us manage our time, when we end up so exhausted.  He was silent.  Surely there's a plan that works better than the one I use.  There's lots to do on a daily basis, and with 6 children still at home, I don't see that changing.  And with my mom shortly being released to be back at her home, the hours will begin to be eaten up even sooner.

I'm really clueless as to how I'm supposed to manage.  I know there's an answer, just don't know what it is. Guess it's more about doing and seeing what works.  Gary was asking how I was the other night---having been bitten by a monstrous hit of depression.  I was trying to tell him, and he was taking the male route of trying to fix it for me.  I get that.  He can't bear me to have a problem he doesn't have a solution for.  Like the story of the woman who wanted a new white blouse.  She and her husband went shopping, and he soon took a blouse off a hanger and handed it to his wife.  "Here's a white blouse."  Yes, it was a white blouse, but it wasn't the right one."  Same thing.  The effort is appreciated very much, but the answer is a bit more complicated and tricky.

The hard part----being me in the midst of helping her.  I tend to be obsessive.  Perspective.  That word keeps coming up in my mind.  I need to keep it in mind.

Attempting a restful Saturday

There are times when I can tell I'm trying too hard.  This is one of those times.  Oldest daughter and my husband have ordered me to cool it----lay my burden down, so to speak.  Mild headache bothering the left side of my head----cough remaining.  And it's funny.  When you actually make a concerted effort to do that and slow down, the deep breaths follow and rest comes naturally.

I'm the person who does my mom's clothes. Took her some things on Wednesday and she was looking at me getting her pants out of the plastic bag and commented on how pretty her red pants were, and she followed up with, "Now, why do you think that is?"  Sometimes she surprises me with what she says. Strokes must leave some unusual residue in a person's brain. Often she sounds like a child with her responses, and I just scratch my head.

I say that to say this----it wears on me.

A history of a mom who was critical and hard to please.  Who was harsh with me in regards to my endless pregnancies----not able to empathize with the exhaustion and moodiness I dealt with.  To the outside world, a pretty much, angelic human being.  One of those moms who my friends always complimented me on.  Now in a mental place where she's sharp as far memory goes, but has odd lapses with a child-like flavor.  Keeps me on my toes. Who is she now?  I have no idea.

Some days I need a break from tension of it.  Now she's asked me to do her Christmas shopping for her.  I really think she could give it a pass, but guess she wants to be as normal as possible. Honestly would prefer to not have one more thing on my list of things to do, but the question wasn't 'will you do this for me?,' but 'do this for me.'  Uh, yeah.  Okay.

Folks are hard on each other.  Not sure why that is so, but it is. I think I'll follow Lesley's idea of 'hibernation as retreat' this weekend.  My mom has enough clothes to last her until Monday. I need to deal with this headache and be kind to myself.  If I don't, nobody else will do it for me.

Take care of yourself too, you hear?

Friday night

Resting in bed.  I've not made much effort at rest-time in the afternoon lately, so am playing catch up.  Still suffering some tiredness from the flu, but much better. The cough remains, but that's, pretty much, all.

Oldest daughter and I went to see a movie last night---Judi Dench's newest called 'Philomena' and enjoyed it. Some language, but we did enjoy the story.  Sad, but sweet.

And while we were gone, the little girls put up the tree.  So grateful for that.  I wasn't able to get in the mood to initiate it.  In related news, I'm wanting a day tomorrow to putter around, vacuum all the dust bunnies that are lurking and put up some decorations.  Just a day without things I HAVE to do, and the time and ability to do what I WANT to do.  Trying to make time.  We've talked about going to a Christmas parade, but it's raining now, and not sure but they'll be rained out.  That'd suit me just fine.

Thinking how my mom's stroke has changed the way I look at things, or at least has changed the potential of looking at life differently.  I tend to be duty-oriented, and with homeschooling, it's easy to get into a legalistic rut with that.  Seeing how swiftly life can be forever altered by a stroke has made an imprint in my mind. There's still pressure from the outside world to perform all the time, and it's hard to resist that mindset, let me tell you.  Do this, do that.  Get this done.  There's a constant hum of activity just pressuring us to keep busy.

I'm not so interested anymore.  Hard to change tactics when life is so tuned into what we produce in any given day.  Makes me tired.

Still remember what my mom said a couple of days after her stroke.  She said, "I just wish I'd had more fun."

Ditto.

Tuesday late

This is a first.  The tree isn't up.  The decorations are still in the attic and not a gift has been bought by me. The wreaths aren't on the outside doors either.  I am using a snowman mug oldest daughter just bought for me, though.  The kids say we're putting up the tree this weekend.  Guess we'll have a whirlwind Christmas. Whoosh, and we'll be done.

You know, this could turn out to be the sweetest Christmas ever.  We've pared down by necessity and design, through no fault of our own.  Life is just pinching now.  My emotions are raw and unpredictable.

I have this routine each year when I unpack the ornaments.  I say to myself that I wonder what will be different this year compared to the past year.  What is different?  Who's passed away and who's been born? What has made an impact on me personally?  And I go through the same routine when I pack them away.

Oh my.

Glad we have these kids who just keep on, keeping on.  They surely are my joy.

For Sunday

Saturday night

My mom called me this morning, telling me with enthusiasm how much she likes the Rehab place where she moved yesterday. She thanked me over and over.  I cried when I got off the phone.  Such a relief.  Huge.

And Gary and I went there this afternoon and a physical therapist was in the room with her, working her thoroughly.  Her hair was styled (done this morning), and she was fully dressed. When we'd seen her on Wednesday in the hospital, she was in a hospital gown and lying flat in bed.

I'd say it was a good mental health day all around.

For the rest of the weekend, will stay at home.  Rest.  Not take on anything more.  Promise.

Winding down the week

~ice on burning bush's red berries

Got dressed, and planned on filling out paperwork at the Rehab place to get my mom moved, and Gary said we'd not tough out the ice. Good call on his part.  With him being a Yankee and a fearless driver, I figure it pays to listen to his wisdom about the condition of the roads. Still coughing, etc., and not wise to get out if not necessary for that reason too.  The sweet girl emailed me what I needed to fill out and we sent them back. Many thanks to fourth son who dragged himself out of bed to scan and send them for me.  Couldn't have done it without him.

Maybe I can breathe a bit now.

You think?

Thursday

When I said over the weekend that my brothers were stepping up to the plate, I lied.  Well, I thought they were, but it's the same old story of telling me what I want to hear, and not necessarily what was true.  So if you read this post, disregard.

I fear that my month-long diatribe of woes concerning my mom, the flu and my lacking of Christmas spirit will cause folks to run the other way.  I have nothing of perkiness to share.  I cry a lot.  And cough.  And tend to the whole household that is sick. And Gary had to cancel his trip up to see his folks for his mom's 80th birthday this weekend.  His youngest brother was treating him with a ticket, but Gary had to contact him this morning about it.  Sick, sick.  And supposedly an ice storm is coming, so really, the flight might be cancelled anyhow (prayers appreciated for it to be a big failure of a storm).  Also I check my mom into the new rehab tomorrow because my brother won't respond to my email for help in the midst of our illness.

Gosh.

Crap, crap, crappity crap.

I'm hoping and praying that when we feel better---and it should be soon for a few of us who got sick first, that I can relax with the knowledge that my mom is in a good place for a bit.  She should be there 'til after Christmas, I'm hoping.  Will address that possibility tomorrow.  I want to sink into a holiday mood of sorts. We all need that joyousness in the house.

It was odd.  Yesterday I paid some of my mom's bills at her house and opened one in regards to a radiology bill.  The date was November 7th, and I couldn't remember what had happened then.  For a few brief moments was wondering if Mom had been to the hospital before her stroke.  Silly me.  That WAS the date of her stroke.  The past 4 weeks have literally flown by---full of prickles and dark emotions.

I need a perk.  A blessing.  A feeling of God's hand over me even in the midst of these hard times.  I get glimmers, but a clear (okay, big would be nice) indication of His touch would be such a joy.  Actually a small thing happened yesterday.  I was talking to oldest daughter about feeling jittery about telling Mom about her not coming here, but going to another rehab facility. Literally as we were talking, I had a rush and felt clearly that Mom would hear something about it, and not from me, and that it would be fine.  Late yesterday afternoon, Gary and I went up there to tell her (the soc. worker had given her go-ahead), and turns out the nurse-of-the-day had already told her, and Mom was fine with it.  She broke the ice.  I guess that was a clear indication.  Well, I know it was.  Guess I'm just hungry for the pressures to be off and for life to feel happy again.

Updates

Was sitting outside with the chickens this afternoon, warm breeze blowing, and thinking about how heavy the laundry basket was going to be.  I'm that tired.  This sickness is wretched.  Drag here.  Drag there.  Used the dryer instead.  We look like a houseful of zombies.  And that's being generous.

On the upside, Mom was accepted into the rehab facility, and seems fine with that.  We stressed the importance of more strenuous exercises, which hopefully will allow her to go home stronger.  We understand one another, I do believe.

Brothers aren't communicating with me.  Ignoring me?  Not so sure.  More like they are avoiding getting involved.  Or maybe that's the same thing as being ignored?  I scratch my head, unable to understand that. At this point, excuses just won't fly. And I've played nice---not always easy, but I really have.

Gary says to turn off my head tonight.  So now I'll do just that.

Feeling a tiny bit angsty

Well, you'd think I'd learn.  And while I'm at it, would like to experience extended family that's not dysfunctional.  Please?

Brothers not helping one darn bit.  Unless the youngest of my older brothers really steps up to the plate, and with Mom being discharged from the hospital rehab on Friday----he'd better work fast.  Oldest brother is lacking in compassion as to the in's and out's of tending to Mom in a home setting, talking more like she's a puppy in a crate than a human being who requires interaction and not just cleaning up after.  He's a bit clueless. But then, he's not offered to be of any help whatsoever.  Going so far as to calling the social worker, then calling me and telling me I needed to talk to her, because he doesn't understand why I can't be Mom's caretaker.  He sees no problem with us taking her in.  He continually washes his hands of any involvement. Avoidance doesn't make stuff go away.

We took Mom's cell phone to her the other day, and she's been able to call her sister daily (who lives in town) and anyone else whose number is on her phone.  Gary mentioned to her over the weekend that we were sick, oldest daughter and I being sicker than the bunch.  He was explaining to her why I'd not been up there.  I'm thinking flu, but don't really know.  Here's what I deal with----my mom, who is fully able to talk on the phone, hasn't called to see how we're doing, and I've not been able to go visit her since last Wednesday.  Yes, she's recovering from a stroke, but our whole house is sick.  Stroke trumps flu?  She's baaaaaack.

Maybe I ask for too much, but the way I see it, no matter where you are in the picture, simple courtesy is always appreciated.  And being that my mom is of a narcissistic temperament, I refuse to allow her stroke to dictate how I behave.  I'm thankful we made peace, but she really needs to acknowledge at some point what's going on with the rest of us. I repeat---avoidance doesn't make stuff go away.

Monday night

Still sick.  A side benefit is that I can't go to the hospital to visit 'cause they'd boot me out---coughing to beat band, fever, and aches.  I think both oldest daughter and I are exhausted.  Poor immune systems with all that's been going on.  We caught the mega-cold, got better then wham! got hit with it again, and harder the second time.

As to mom updates, my brothers said they'd get with the social worker/etc. today to get something moving. Haven't heard anything from either of them today, so figuring the social worker wasn't able to get back to my brother.  Guessing.  I'd really appreciate even an email saying they know nothing rather than the silence.  My extended family is a bit weak on communication.

My friend Patricia said the wisest thing to me years ago, and I've shared it here before.  'Make sure you're living YOUR life and not someone else's.  It's too easy to get so caught up with what someone else is going through that you forget yourself.' Or something to that effect.  Wise words.

Must go dope myself up now.  So tired of coughing.  But think both oldest daughter and I are possibly past the hardest part. Take care.

Sunday afternoon

My brothers are stepping up to the plate in regards to our mom's situation.  When we offered to take her in, they were briefly able to stand back and allow that.  Now that I've stated that I can't, they're pulling their weight.  A huge blessing.  I told Gary I felt I'd gotten so that I pick up this heavy backpack on a daily basis, trying to tote my mom on my back all day----figuratively, you know.  And all the crying I've been doing has made healing from this cold and cough practically impossible.

One of fourth son's co-workers knows our family and he'd shared with her our talk about taking in Mom. She told him we just couldn't do that on the long term, maybe briefly, but not day after day after day.  She said we'd be totally exhausted.  I'm learning from many sources that this is the most practical way to think. You can be optimistic about your goal, but the realities really do hold sway.

This whole situation has stolen my joy and it's hard to not go there.  I was looking at a gift shop we passed earlier today, all decorated with lights and pretty ribbons and couldn't help wondering how they could do that.  Where is my holiday joy? Huh.  Ain't nowhere in sight.  And really, I don't think it's healthy for me to allow this situation with my mom to completely overwhelm my every waking thought.  But not letting that happen is the hardest part.

I need perspective again.  Simply that.

Saturday night

After conversations with a few friends today, I have more information than I had yesterday---and maybe a better understanding of my mom's options for care after she's discharged.  My sweet Tina gave me a lengthy pep talk on the phone, wonderful given her job at a hospital of doing exactly what we're involved in now. Incredible the information she had to share.  And Amy emailing me with her own knowledge, partly helped by her care for her mom at home a couple of years ago. And finally by JoAnn whose dad was our elderly neighbor who died this year, a life-long stroke sufferer---he had more strokes than anyone I've ever known.

Now to make sure my brothers are on the same page, one not being aware that anything's going on.  He thinks she's coming here on Friday, and I had to be honest with myself and realize that's not realistic if I want to keep my sanity.  Not kidding.

Number one---to find a place for mom to get more intensive therapy.  To give us time to get her house in order, and be aware of what is ahead of us.  To use every resource available in care and rehabilitation for her.

This is all just an update.  Still overwhelmed, and need to talk to Mom tomorrow to apprise her of the change of plan, how I'm seeing my own limitations, and to share with her that we believe she'll heal better and quicker if her treatment is more intense. She's got to want it, though.  I have a sneaking suspicion she thinks she can be home and have a cozy stay (wherever she is) and that that will be her life.  I know this has been hard and exhausting, but that's the reality.  I think if she came here, she'd get content with the minimum of improvement, and for me, that just isn't good enough.

Friday afternoon

I was just reading over some blogs of friends, noting their amusing pursuits and craftiness.  New jobs to maybe do, dishes to make, shows to watch and putterings in their gardens---settings to rights before anymore hard cold comes.  They're living their lives.

And I'm frozen in one spot.  I literally can't move in my head for wondering what the future holds.  No matter where my mom ends up for care, whether it's short-term in a rehabilitation setting or here or at her house----life has made a shift.  And it's all happening way too fast.

Truth.  I will be the main caregiver of my mom.  That's a given. My mom who I've not gotten on well with for years.  Yes, we've made peace in the last few weeks, but it's not a cozy relationship.  Familiar, yes. Warm and fuzzy.  No.  Kind of utilitarian, if that even makes sense.

The therapists went on and on about how they enjoy working with my mom, and how sweet she is and what a beautiful smile she always shows them. Yes.  All true.  But there are still flashes of the mom who is harsh and unyielding and I shudder to have that presence in our house all the time, or to be witness to it in her house.

A few days ago, a friend of my mom's from church--same age, had the identical stroke and died.  Bam. Over and done.  And while I'm very grateful that we've made peace, I wonder about timing.  That sudden way of dying sure is cleaner, but when God's not finished with somebody, He's Just. Not. Finished.

I sit here in the sun in our bedroom and wonder what the next few weeks hold.  What does the Lord have for us to do in this? Who is He molding me to be?  What's my role?  Why does it have to be so hard, and why do I angst so?

Hard thoughts

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving to all.  Secondly, I have to talk to myself here for a minute.  This is one of the few places I give myself permission to be totally honest, so here we go.

I can't do this.  I can't take in my mom.  I really can't.  I think Gary's so convinced me of it being the right thing to do (and maybe it is), but I've not put much thought into it.  Here it is, 3 weeks to the day since her stroke, and her Rehab. there is coming to a close.  She's able to feed herself (but it takes a really long time), can speak very well, yet you can tell she's had a stroke, but her personal skills (won't go into detail), and her ability to get up and down and walk are lagging behind.

All this is fine.  She's made progress, and I'm thankful her stroke wasn't worse, very thankful, don't get me wrong.

Okay, so I call my out-of-town brother last night to tell him about the meeting, and I have to give him credit. He's trying. He's interested in getting Mom into a facility to work her a bit more, and said his mother-in-law was able to get more care beyond her Medicare via her deceased husband's VA benefits, and since my dad was a veteran, that Mom should be eligible too.  I don't have a clue, but appreciate his willingness to look into it.  He told me to not fret over Thanksgiving, that he'd get onto it on Friday (tomorrow) and figured we could get a delay in getting her released.  He was surprised as the rest of us at the rush to let her go.  Why are they?

We rushed into saying we'd take care of her before it was even considered that there were options open to us.  Nobody at the hospital said anything about the availability of more therapy away from them----we were led to believe that after her hospital rehabilitation, she'd have home health care come in to work her a bit, then they'd be gone and then that's all she wrote.  At 85 do you have a past-your-sale date in the medical world?  Does that play into this scenario at all?

What blows my mind is the idea of having her here so quickly. We're not prepared and it'll take a lot of work to get the bedroom whipped into shape.  And I don't want therapists in my house repeatedly during the week.  I don't want the intrusion. Social workers here?  No thanks.  Small house, homeschoolers, many kids, nobody's business.  You get my drift.

Second thoughts.

Most hard decisions I've had to face have afforded me some wiggle room.  What has blown through my mind this morning is for her to go to her house (yes, Kim....I see the validity of it now), and was wondering if I could enlist members of her church to be available to rotate with us.  That's sort of what the church family is for, right?

I feel painted into a corner, and the paint ain't dryin'....and the deadline is looming.  I'd appreciate your prayers, even if I'm not aware of them.  I need clarity and direction.  I really do.  I feel selfish, but if I am, I believe it's for the right reasons.  What do folks do in this sort of situation?

Just being real...

I fear this isn't going to sound like a Thanksgiving post, but I'll plow ahead.

We went to the meeting with the Social Worker and Therapists today, and right off the bat, they said something about Mom going home on the 6th.  My brain jumped ahead to January for a brief few seconds, and that sounded do-able.  But no.....they meant next Friday.  Nine days from now.  The very same day Gary flies out of here to visit his folks up in Baltimore for the weekend.  Is someone playing a joke that I'll wake up from soon?

I think I'll take up drinking.

At the risk of sounding like a whining child, I'll go on.  I'm not prepared for the level of intimacy this will require of me on a daily basis.  I don't wanna.  I'm not prepared to be so important to my mom that we'll share every aspect of her life.  I cringe when I think of having therapists here in our home 3 times a week.  I shudder when I look at our tired old bathroom which needs a facelift and imagine strangers supervising her bath in there.  I don't feel strong enough.  It's too much.  But mostly it's way too soon.

But yeah, it's not all about me.  Middle daughter is having a very hard time with this, and Gary says it's because she's a teenager.  She's bucking at possibly moving back into the former room with oldest daughter, along with the least one (who's being adorable, though she doesn't realize it).  But her eyes are tired.

The boys aren't fazed.  They say things will all work out, but won't have to move out of their room, and their lives will, mostly likely, just continue as they have.  So for them, it will all work out.  No problems.

Females aren't that easily pacified.  We look ahead to the particulars.

And the ultimate icing on the cake today was our neighbors across the street having company, and are driving a huge camper....Winnebago style.  They actually pulled it up in our yard at the curb.  Are you kidding me?  I'm ready to wrestle somebody.  I saw it there when I got home this afternoon, and just stared. In the grass, which is all smashed and packed down on several areas, showing they've done this earlier as well. Jumped the curb and parked in our yard.

I'm going to go now and either slug something or have some hot tea.  Probably the latter.  But would prefer the former.

Thanksgiving Eve

It's already been a thankful week of sorts with an over-an-hour-long conversation with my brother in Louisiana on the phone.  Mostly talked about Mom and plans, still in the dark. But it was good and healthy to clear the air. Lotsa that going 'round these parts. And at 11am will go to the hospital for a meeting with the Social Worker and Therapists to see how Mom's progressing. Hope to get even a bit of an idea about the next step. Oldest brother had a conflict of plans, so it'll just be Gary and me....that's okay. I think. Truly, that's likely the way this will fly anyhow. Might as well admit that.

And when I get back home, plan on turning off my brain and focusing on pies, tidying and just the day. I need that relief of routine and ordinariness to settle me down.

Praying for two bids that are out for beds folks want built. The changepurse is about empty again, and these jobs would see us through Christmas.

Hope your day is sweet....we're seeing sunshine for the first time in days. Glorious. Take care and enjoy the day.

 

Sunday before dinner

Head colds passed around. Coughing, and sniffly noses.  Immune systems gone to pot with all the worrying lately.  Thinking ahead to Thanksgiving and hoping we're all feeling perky by then.  Have asked a neighbor over, but not sure if she'll be able to come.  We might still be recovering.  Will shop tomorrow. Chickens feeling the chill outside.  Keep warming up their water during the day.  They don't seem to mind, though. Oldest brother invited to my aunt's for Thanksgiving.  One down.  Other brother out of town hasn't committed to being here with our mom.  No comment.  Trying to avoid fretting in regards to future plans about Mom's living arrangements.  As I tell the kids---maybe the Lord will come during the night and we'll not have to make these decisions.  Usually gets a laugh.

Knockout

If you've read the news lately, you've heard about the game that young men have been playing called Knockout.  Let me re-phrase that---young black men.  I've not read a piece that addresses the idea that those doing the knocking out are anything but black males.  Let's be clear.

If you've not heard of it (and it's new to us), there's an online gaming group that encourages players to sucker punch an unassuming stranger and hopefully knock them out.  Totally random.

A week ago Tuesday, there was a crowd in my mom's hospital room.  Lots of visitors, one being our third son.  On his way to visit her, armed with a bouquet of flowers, he was knocked off of his bicycle by a black male teenager as he was on the bike---actually moving.  A car full of these youngsters pulled up past our son, one boy got out, and our son thought he was going to pass him on foot and go up to a house.  Nope. He hit our son in the face, one boy took a photo, and away they went.  Our son was disoriented for a second, but was fine.  Well, as fine as you can be when a total stranger hits you for no reason but that you're white.  His cheek was cut on the inside, his right brake gear was busted since he fell with the bike, the flowers were messed up, but he survived. Not every victim is so lucky.

Be careful.  Thankfully some of these cowards are being caught now that folks are becoming aware.  One got shot for his efforts.  Yay the victim who had the presence of mind to fight back.  And don't be thinking they're only hitting on men and boys---women are the newest targets.  It makes me so angry.

Best advice, don't go places alone if you can help it.  Look folks in the eyes.  Don't appear intimidated.

Cowards, the lot of 'em.

Friday afternoon

When I visited my mom yesterday, she was sitting in the wheelchair, waiting for a nurse to help her get back into bed. She'd had a long day, lots of therapy, and was wanting to lie down.

I sat to the side when the nurse came and prepared the bed, got it into the right position and then motivated and physically helped my mom maneuver herself.  Her right leg still won't cooperate without some encouragement, so Mom was exhausted when she was back in bed.  It's hard work.

Then last night, called my oldest brother about when he could make a family meeting with the hospital for next week.  Nailed that down with him and then he expressed his concern about me driving Mom's car. Said he's worried someone will break into her house with no vehicle in the carport.  So, to keep him happy, we'll return the car tonight.  Honestly, it frees me up a bit, not having the excuse to drop everything and run.  Have gotten used to not having regular transportation, but using her car has been handy the past two weeks.  A bit peeved at my brother, though, for showing more concern in the chat about her house than her well-being.

Bottom line, he wants her to be in her house when she's released, and true to form, wants our kids to carry the brunt of her after-care.  He said, "Well, they'll have to start moving out sometime (2 have already), so they might as well move in with Mom."  Keeping a nice tone in my voice (not easy) when I replied to him, said the level of care she'll need after release is more than our kids can provide.

It's so easy for him to decide what's best without changing up his own routine.  Doesn't want to be inconvenienced, and went so far as to say Mom needed to toughen up and try harder.  Uh, have any of us in the family had a stroke, so understand what she's going through?  I thought not.

The many facets of caring for an ill elderly family member.  I've always believed that stressful situations bring out a person's true character, and I still stand by that.

Minor meltdown

Got a call from the Social Worker this morning, and she said they didn't have a set discharge date for my mom yet.  So glad. Seems they want to get her to minimal dependence on help, and as of now, she's very needy, especially with small chores like dressing and bathroom issues.  And the Social Worker also said they'd like to hold a family meeting next week to consider our options, and what Mom's status is.

Curious to know what my brothers' thoughts are on the matter. Do they have ideas different than ours?  I just wonder, and it'll be interesting to see how this family meeting goes.  My other brother is too far away to come (well, unless it's immediately before Thanksgiving---he made noises about coming for the holiday, but quite honestly isn't the best with following through---there you have it---brutal honesty), but he and my oldest brother, pretty much, see eye-to-eye, so one echoes another. Unfortunately.  I say that, but would enjoy being pleasantly surprised.  Dysfunctional is our middle name.

When my mom had her cataract surgery and broken arm a couple of years ago, it was simply accepted that our household would take care of her.  I get that.  We live here.  But also, it's a tad frustrating when my (childless, divorced) oldest brother who lives not-so-far-away tends to rely on the argument that we have all these kids, so have an immediate help line.  He needs to cut it out.

Not feeling so strong for the job today of being me. I want a do-over.  And while my relief at Gary talking to my mom yesterday is still a plus, I get to thinking about moving 3 bedrooms around here, throwing stuff out, and making way for my mom and it makes me feel sick.  And I consistently have this problem where I feel I can always take on ONE MORE THING, but it's not always the case.  But, sometimes the right thing to do, isn't necessarily the easiest one to do.  It's just right.

How to access the Grace of God in a situation that's so overwhelming almost seems impossible.  I know it's there, but to constantly feel a deficit of energy and ability tends to drain me dry.  And this with her still in the hospital.  How am I going to cope when she's discharged and I have to really face what has to happen?

More thinking things out...

One of the things I really like about my husband is his knack for not beating around the bush.  Case in point: He stopped off at the hospital to visit my mom before coming home tonight.  I guess he was there around an hour, and I'm happy to say my first cousin and one of my brothers were coming in as Gary left. Good for them.

Well, while he was there he brought up the subject of what Mom figured would happen when she got out---still not sure of the date. He laid out what he thought was possible---a nursing home (not a chance), living in Louisiana with my other brother (made her frown causing Gary to laugh), living alone with nursing help visiting during the day, and lastly to move in with us.

She said she'd prefer to be in her home with the home health care to stop in.  Gary reminded her that she'd not be able to answer the door, being that she's moving so slowly.  And that it'd be mostly my burden to make sure she was alright, and that we'd be constantly running to and fro.  She got it.  He told her his preference was the last one---to be with us as long as it takes for her to finally be on her own.  He didn't address it like she'd be here for the duration of her life, but that she could use us and our home as a springboard to get stronger.  Brilliant.

Now, I don't know if the day will ever happen where she'll be independent again, but she has to be allowed the opportunity to try.  And to imagine her freedom again is a sure way to encourage her to work at getting better.  What could be more perfect?

I sure love him.

The bottom line

Got a call today from the social worker involved with the Rehab floor at the hospital.  She said she'd get back with me later on today concerning my mom and what they see as her prospects for recovery, and the time frame for her discharge as well.  She was asking if Mom had lived alone before her stroke (yes), and if we had an idea of what we'd like to do after she's released (uh, sort of).

Called Gary and we went over again what had spun through our minds initially, which is to move around beds here so that Mom can live with us.  Mercy.

A month ago this would have never entered my mind, having her live here for any reason---are you kidding me?  But we told her a few days after her stroke, that a nursing home situation was out of the question. We'd manage.

Not sure what my brothers will say to our idea.  One lives down in Louisiana, and the other lives alone 45 minutes away.  Pretty clear to me what needs to happen.

And the idea of her moving back to her house (3 miles away) and gaining her former independence just isn't logical.  Having to alternate who would have to spend the night, not to mention the days with her----besides driving our household into turmoil is pointless, and we have to provide continuity with our children. They need stability and sameness more than any of us.

I told the social worker that I appreciated having someone to help with the details, since we're in unchartered territory.  I said I realized she'd had this conversation many times before, but it's a first for us.  She seemed to understand and had all the time in the world to hear me out.  That was a comfort.

Sometimes I wish the search engines online had the capability to see into the future.  Like a Magic 8 Ball. Like God.  Just need to keep this in the forefront of prayer, to follow what the Lord would have us do.  Not my idea of fun, but it's the right thing to do.

For my Monday

• going to take today off from internet-ness
• must find time for creative indulgences
• need settling occupations
• help kids focus on relaxation and fun
• get heads away from the hardships my mom's having
• live
• decant tinctures into little brown bottles
• read 'persuasion' out loud
• allow myself to relax
• play with the chickens
• laugh
• appreciate the little things
• read day's portions from 'book of common prayer'
• make homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner
• re-read a favorite book
• rest

What people say...

A sweet, though almost hectic day.  Church wonderful as usual (I adore the Anglican service), good visit with my mom, arriving after she'd had company from church folks and my cousin.  My socially-minded mother does love being around folks.  One way we're very different.

Odd thing, though.  I talked on the phone today with two people who are friends of hers.  One is her retired next-door neighbor, who she's harbored a long-running annoyance with (unknown to him) about how he cuts his yard. Personally I think he's nice as can be.  Anyway, he called me today to ask about Mom, having heard some updates from her other neighbors, but wanted to hear it from me.  He began to talk about Mom in the past-tense, knowing she's still with us, but still referring to her as if she's already gone.  And with another person she used to go to church with, the same thing happened.  That woman had been invited months ago by my mom to have Thanksgiving with her (yeah, I know).  I called her to tell her, obviously that Mom has to cancel.  She wasn't aware of the stroke, and as we talked, she said she hopes to meet me and my family before there's any funeral.  What?

Not a big deal to me, but curious just the same.  I realize folks don't always hear what's being said.  I'm guilty of that all the time.

Resting now, thinking about stuff.  Feeling a glimmer of sanity here and there.  Took on the chore of watching our priest's farmlife over Thanksgiving, in addition to us being responsible for another church member's house as well.  Must make a pie chart to help me keep up, but it'd only make me think of Thanksgiving, so would be a fruitless exercise.  Glad fourth son will be doing the second job, actually staying overnights.  My head was mildly spinning thinking about how I need a secretary to help me organize things.  But considering my mom's health now, these busy chores are so minor.  Might make me mildly goofy-headed, but it's just busyness.  In the midst of life and death, fussing about the details just doesn't make any sense.

'The Prodigal' by Brennan Manning and Greg Garrett

To be honest, when I began reading Brennan Manning's newest (and last) book to review, I was hesitant because it was written with another person.  I was afraid the other writer's touch would be too strong and would take away from Manning's sensitive portrayal of humanity's pain. My fear was ungrounded.  Greg Garrett is the perfect person to write alongside Manning, and keeps true to the Ragamuffin style.

The Prodigal is the story of a hugely popular pastor of a mega church who falls into temptation.  Jack Chisholm loses everything and quickly. One day he's at the top of his game, and over the course of a few days, becomes an outcast.

The book covers Chisholm's journey in finding out who God really is, what He means to him---and how willing he is to turn away from everything he's thought was important.  And as a true Prodigal, he returns to his childhood home and into the life of his seriously ill father.  I loved how ordinary he seems, and how he accepts how messed up he is---but how forgiving both his earthly and Heavenly Father will be toward him.

This is a sweet story.  Encouraging and very true to life.  I'd enjoy reading more about Jack Chisholm, and believe Garrett can write one on his own now, and keep the flavor of Fr Manning.

(i received this book free to review from booksneeze/thomas nelson)

Saturday's end

Oldest daughter got up with the dogs and chickens this morning and I slept in.  Woke up just after ten and was surprised at how late it was.  Wonderful.  Got my tea tray together and took it out back, sitting with the chickens.  Fortunately the temperatures have risen a bit, so even though it's been overcast, the morning was perfect for sitting outside.  I've missed it.

The day was busy enough, as it was, so a quiet start sure helped.  A birthday lunch with church friends at Chick-fil-A with the least one, then as soon as we got back home from that, it was time to take middle daughter and youngest son, along with another friend to the church for pizza and 'Lord of the Rings'. Movie night for the teenagers. Good fun for my three youngest, who've needed a distraction with all that's been going on with my mom. And after that took fourth son with me to get the altar flowers.  Hot pink, pink and white this time.  The altar cloths are green so thought the pinks would look pretty.  In my world, it's always an excellent color choice.

Now after a cup of tea, am resting in bed.  Looking forward to some gardening time tomorrow.  The day will be warm-ish again, and I have some pansies to put in the ground.  Might have to work around the showers that are expected.  Oldest daughter and fourth son gathered some bags of pine straw from a neighbor's house earlier this evening.  Have been watching out for folks raking up the straw, and hit paydirt today. Don't know of anyone here who uses it for mulch, and most just leave it at the curb.  And as well, most people have the leaves raked and blown out of the flower beds this time of year, leaving the bushes and plants most vulnerable.  Doesn't make sense to me. It's going to be really cold come December.  

With church, a visit to my mom and gardening, Sunday will be full, but a good full.  Take care.

Working things out in my head

One of the hardest parts about facing a challenge is not to allow the challenge to become you.  It's hard not to be so overwhelmed that the problem becomes the fabric of everyday. I don't have a handle on this, and never have.  When my dad was sick with lung cancer twenty years ago, he was in the hospital for six weeks. That was from initial diagnosis to his passing away.  And it wasn't the cancer that got him, but a blood clot. I realize the clot came about because of the cancer treatment, but did the cancer directly kill him?  Not really.

I remember, though, that his illness colored every day that spring.  I was expecting our fifth child, and unfortunately the last conversation I had with my dad at their house was concerning that baby.  I'd gone over to tell them both about the pregnancy and he thought we were irresponsible (which we might have been), and I regret that anger colored that last visit before he began to feel sick.  You can see how a daughter would take on responsibility for a parent's sickness when they show symptoms after a blow-up.  Least I did. Nevermind he smoked for 50 years.  I still felt to blame.

Like now.

This year has been one of estrangement from my mom, but not one I put into place.  I don't know what my mom has shared with other members of the family or friends concerning me, but being the overly-sensitive type (a sometimes curse) I can feel their frustration with me.  I'm the absentee daughter.  I abandoned my mom.  I drove her to this stroke.

But her untreated high blood pressure has been part of her life for decades.  The build-up of plaque in her carotid artery occurred for many reasons, none to do with me, and a lot to do with her diet and blood pressure.

I feel guilty for something I didn't cause, and it's still driving me nuts.  And I'm not asking for anything by saying all of this---I've just got to get it down.  To see my mom today in a wheelchair struggling to talk, choking on her pureed food and still able to laugh at silly things breaks my heart.  I so hate this.  I hate it so much I can't even put it into words.

And the hardest part is to live my life apart from what my mom's going through.  To be a wife and mother who listens to her husband, comforts her children, feeds the chickens, dusts the furniture, teaches Algebra, bakes a pie, buys groceries, wipes up a spill and simply performs the tasks that put our house to rights.  To do those things with joy and not the shadow of sadness is harder than I ever would've anticipated.  But I can, and I will.  But I'd really rather do them without the shadow. Really.  Maybe that will come as she improves.  Sure hope so.

Blessings

I got an email from a friend at church this week, asking if she could bring us dinner soon.  First off I was hesitant, knowing she has a grown son she's worried about since he has his own health issues.  But after I thought about it, realized that our oldest daughter has been filling in the gap too much, so I accepted. She emailed me back, obviously happy I'd agreed.

So, today was the day.  She said she'd be here this afternoon, and I told her someone would be home. Well, she stopped by while I was gone picking up fourth son at work and brought such wealth.  You'd be amazed at what she brought.  A baked ham, a bag of avocados, raspberries, a jug of milk, cheese, rolls, a huge bag of Dunkin Donuts coffee (made Gary drool), an apple pie, the biggest bag of tortilla chips known to man, coconut water for the kids, lunch meat, and I think that's all.  Can you believe it?

I assumed she'd bring a casserole and maybe a dessert.  That would've been wonderful.  What she brought was astounding.

She called it 'The Judy' named after her friend who brought a whole lot of stuff to her when her own mom was sick.  Guess I'll have to be on the look-out for someone else along the line who has a need.  Pay it forward.  Give 'The Judy' to a friend, or maybe a not-so-friend.  Either way, it's absolutely amazing.

One more day

The kids slept in this morning, and they really needed that. While the older ones went on to work, the three youngest just snoozed away.  I got more rest too.  Woke with the alarm, dealt with the dogs and chickens and then went back to bed.  Woke up to barking a couple of hours later, and couldn't remember if I'd done the animals or not.

Stayed at home for most of the day.  Let the kids rest and we just did ordinary things.  Youngest son kept going to bed to sleep and the girls played outside.  Collected acorns, played with the chickens, made cups of tea, re-heated tacos for lunch and watched me putter.  Normal things.  Just ordinary tasks that settle down a person.

Then I made sure one of their older brothers would be home before I left.  That kept them from fretting.  The younger ones just like for one of the older boys or oldest sister to be in charge. I get that.  The pressure's lifted then.

So, I took some clothes to Mom, and was planning on a visit, but she was asleep when I got there.  I had to go pick up fourth son at work, so left the clothes on the shelves and wrote her a note.  

Tomorrow's another day.  Will deal with that when I have to. Grateful a friend from church is bringing dinner to us in the afternoon.  I can't tell you how much that means.  You know that, though.

Tuesday night

My mom (surprising to all of us) was moved to the Rehab floor today since she's progressing well with her eating/swallowing---building up her strength.  Plus she's gaining usage of her right hand again, and her speech is much better. Still hasn't stood up and has lots of therapy ahead of her to the tune of 3 hours/morning, starting tomorrow. Our visits will have to be more brief and no overnights.  A blessing to Gary and my oldest brother, I know. They both work during the day and to leave for work from the hospital after a sleepless night is pretty difficult. But, they've been willing. I'm thankful for that.

The blockage is still in her left carotid artery, 100%, but the decision is to build her up rather than interfere. Not sure how I feel about that, but with her age a factor, plus the high blood pressure---I have to trust what the neurologist and surgeon decided.  Gives me the feeling of walking around with a loaded gun with the safety off, but not much else to do.  I did get a sense of Perspective this afternoon, while my mom's best friend was visiting.  I walked down the hallway past the elevators to look out the window and with us being on the ninth floor, had a pretty good view.  Trees.  Lots of trees.  Made me realize how huge God is, and that He'll have his way no matter, and I find that a comfort.

Tired.  Emotionally as well as physically.  Should be home more than away tomorrow.  Wonderful.  With the possible thought that she'll be discharged before Thanksgiving, my head spins. It's unlikely she'll be able to be alone all the time, so while I won't worry prematurely, I do wonder.  Just not today.

Monday night

Busy day.  Got figuratively head-butted by my out-of-town/staying-until-tomorrow sister-in-law, but since I'm not doing any wrestling anymore, will just turn the other cheek. Wasn't prepared for her anger, but thankful she'll leave soon. Ain't got time for that.  This situation is about my mom, not my SIL.

Now to the best part of the day.  Very best.  After passing her barium swallowing test this afternoon, Mom was approved for real food.  She's still on a vitamin/electrolyte IV, and until she can actually get some calories in her, it'll stay that way.  But tonight she got a pureed dinner, and she said it tasted so wonderful. She had me try it, and it was actually tasty.  She only ate about a tablespoon or more, just enough to tire her out, but well done, I thought.

Part two of best time of the day.  After she'd rested from dinner, I asked if she wanted to put on any make-up, and she did.  While her aim with the blush brush was lacking, I was able to help her with that and then put on a dab of mascara.  Vanity is a definite positive.  And she held her haircomb, not able to raise her arm to her hair right off the bat, but gradually it worked.  She said it's not because of a weak arm, so much as she has to tell her arm what to do.  Also, her speech is improving.

The universe outside her room stopped existing while we were doing that.  It was just us.  Totally absorbed in what we were doing.  Best part of the day.

But I won't lie.  This is the hardest thing I've ever done, including giving birth to eight children without pain killers.  The emotional drain is almost more than I can stand.  The end is not in sight.  The future, even immediate is totally out of my hands. Victories help balance it out, but with visitors, doctor's detailed and scary explanations, being out in the world more than I'm used to, and the unseen problems connected with my mom's stroke including the artery blockage that remains, I had a moment this afternoon with her room full of company and while I was on the phone with one of my brothers when I just wanted to let out a scream.

And that's the best that I can do.  Thankfully, that's enough.

Sunday night

One of my brothers came into town with his wife late yesterday. Thankfully that we've all buried the hatchet, all of us.  We're getting along beautifully.

Back about 16 years ago I had a miscarriage that was mentally and physically exhausting.  It was right before Christmas, and I remember I told my mom that I felt scourged, this after she told me how good I looked. There was nothing left, I felt like a shell, and honestly my life changed during that experience.  It's like I left my happy self back there, and it's not all returned yet.

That's how I feel now.  Scourged.

Maybe that's a good thing, at least from God's perspective.

Anyway, this brother has to leave again on Tuesday, which will be hard for him, I know.  My other brother lives about an hour away, but drives in town for work.  He'll be available here and there.  He told me today on the phone we'll have to talk later about the hospital visit rotation plan.  Gary's already said he doesn't want me to be there at the hospital overnights, but the days are fine.  Three people to do the job.  Hard.  But doable.  I don't want to unload this on the kids.  Visits are fine, but they look shell-shocked when they leave her room.  That's enough for now, for them.

When Gary was staying with my mom on Friday night, I got home at around nine or so.  I sat in the living room with the kids and dogs and sweet Indian boyfriend who was visiting, just being together.  Then when I took a shower and finally got into bed, four of them followed me.  One son had his laptop to show me something, oldest daughter stayed longest just to talk, another son came home from work and got into the bed as well, and the two youngest daughters took turns.  They were craving security.  Curious how having the rug pulled out from under you causes you to revert to what your heart is saying.

Mom

As I tell the kids---life can change in the blink of an eye.

My mom had a stroke, we think, sometime on Wednesday.  One of my brothers called Thursday night at about 8:30pm all agitated telling me that Mom had sounded odd on the phone when he'd just spoken to her. He's out of town, so Gary and I ran over there and found her standing in the kitchen doorway, seemingly frozen in place.  We gradually got her into bed, but it took about 15 minutes.  Long story short, Gary called an ambulance, got her admitted finally, but the ER doctor thought she'd just had a TIA.  Wrong.  It was a full-blown stroke in her brain stem, left-side, which has resulted in her right side being very weak, but thankfully not paralyzed.  Her speech difficulty is her biggest hurdle.  And getting her blood pressure down which was dreadfully high when the EMTs came to her house.

The hard part today was her still not being hooked to an IV, and not having had nourishment since Wednesday (I have no clue what took so long---Gary and I both ended up badgering the head nurse, who in turn had to keep calling the main doctor). Her stomach had been upset then at home, thinking she had a sinus infection or a bug, but maybe it was just the precursor of the stroke.  What do I know?  Her tongue won't cooperate and she can't swallow well, so she has to have an IV.  And she's trying so hard to talk.  It just breaks my heart.

My mind is flying everywhere.

And this afternoon the neurologist told me that the left carotid artery in her neck is completely blocked, and all the blood flow is coming from the right side.  Apparently he's talked to a neurosurgeon about it.  I felt the floor drop underneath me when he told me.  It scares me.  She's 84, very weak and not able to sit up for long, not to mention she can't stand.

But I'm grateful most of all for the way we were able to talk today.  To cry together and just forgive one another.  Hear me when I say that personal grievances are useless.  They profit no one.  Seeing her so ill is a wake-up call.  I just wish I could back up and fix all of the pain, but as Gary says, it's not my fault.  I didn't manufacture all the grief we caused one another.  But I did take part, and I was able to apologize to her for that.  And 'bout damn time.

Thanks to those of you who are already praying.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."~from 2 Corinthians 12:9

That verse came to my mind when I left the hospital at about 9 last night.  Gary was staying with Mom a second night and I didn't understand where he'd parked the truck.  I just walked into the parking lot and prayed for the Lord to take me to it. Just me and Him.  And He led me straight to the truck.  I'm thinking crystal-clear pain cuts to the chase in our communication with the Lord.  Nothing's in the way. Just need.

And the strong belief that, as I told Bonnie, the spirit world is so active in a hospital.  Think about that one. The place is backed up with angelic intervention.  I find that overwhelming.  If you stop and think about it, it'll take your breath away.

Thursday afternoon

Resting.  Thankful for two whole days of things falling into place.  Getting up and having quiet-time. Wrestling the kids up a tad earlier.  Having a tidy house.  Letting things roll off of me a bit smoother.  All good.

Order seems to be the need I have that makes the day run without squeaks.  Disarray, both mental and physical are problems I contend with, but are easy to remedy.  Consistency is key.

And I've come to an odd conclusion, apropos of nothing I've said today, but running through my head. Okay, those of you who have traveled with me online know that we have money troubles from time to time. One income, self-employed at that, allow for tight times.  News flash.  No matter how much I grouse, complain and gnash my teeth, the Lord always provides.  End of story.  Just wish I'd realized this years ago, but apparently I'm a hard sell.  I tend to pray like a mourner, begging and pleading (is that the same thing?) for the Lord to hear me, never (and I mean NEVER) admitting to myself that God Almighty really cares enough to bless me.

They say that your relationship with your parents can affect your trust in God's provision and belief in His desire to hear and respond to your needs.  If you're used to being ignored or turned away, then it's possible you believe that your Father in Heaven will do the same.  Thankfully that's not the case. Again, I plead to being a slow learner.

Praise be to God for His faithfulness.

'Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.'~Kyrie elieson

A jumbled mind

Lesley at Wisteria & Sunshine talks from time to time about keeping a Day Book, but that's something I've never done, and actually, don't have a clue as to how to begin.  Her explanations are clear, but maybe too much linear thinking on my part causes me to hit a snag. I over-think the particulars, fearing I'll do it wrong, and need to remember that (my goodness) this is just for me so what's all the fuss about? I do, though, love her quiet and peaceable ways.  Very soothing.

Welcome to my mind.  On to other things.

Grounded myself with some prayer and today's reading in the Psalms.  I tend to require some mental 'grabbing of my shoulders and giving me a shake' from time to time, and really stopped this morning and did just that.  The kids are always going every which-a-way, and that must rattle me more than I care to admit.

For example, just this week:  Oldest daughter received a promise/pre-engagement ring from sweet Indian boyfriend last night (pause to say "awww"...it really is sweet), Gary's been tearing into the wiring for our Internet/t.v. to fix a snag (thankfully done), 3 birthdays in the space of eleven days, keeping the house clean, schoolwork (heavy on the math), going over things with third son to re-take the military test in a week or so, and me needing oh-so-badly to turn off the busy focus and just relax and create.

When I get up from here will vacuum and dust the living room, and then take out my fun supplies.  I tend to be a believer in getting the muck done first, then playing.  Trouble is---in this house, the muck tends to be huge and the playing is pushed to the side because exhaustion sets in.  Hard to find a balance.

Now she's off.............

A fresh Monday morning...

Having a bit of quiet in bed with my tea before the whole house gets up.  It's later than some folks wake, but l guess that's one of the perks of homeschooling.  We get it done, just at different hours than the world at large.

I've been thinking more lately on how rushed we all are, and trying to get a handle on slowing down.  I wonder sometimes at all the fuss we make about education and advancement in the business world, and all the while we're drowning in busyness. While I realize that learning is necessary to avoid being a total idiot, there's not a balance in how we feed our spirits.  It's all head knowledge, without the heart.

Speaking of the heart---I have a thing about eating out.  I love it.  Eating what others prepare is a delight to me.  But sometimes you can tell when there's no love in the food.  Some restaurants are popular for their varied menu, but it's sad when the meals are rote, and not presented in a caring manner. Maybe I ask for too much.  It needs to have the love.  And that takes time, time we don't seem willing to spare.

When Gary and I went out Saturday night to shop for oldest daughter's birthday (which is today--she's 26), we sat in the truck in the store parking lot for a few minutes looking at the sky.  It was brilliant---all orange and purple.  Really stunning. And we watched the crowd leave the store, never looking up, but just focused on getting to their cars.  They really were missing out.

The Frederick Buechner quote today on FB was about 'seeing everything for the very last time' and is so beautiful.  We dash through the day and don't stop.  His reminder is to see Grace in the tiny bits.

Well, the chickens are squawking.  Must attend to them, but slowly. Which is the way you manage chickens anyway.  No quick movements---just gentle interference.  Enjoy your day.

Our wildlife

Got this text message while I was out earlier. Gary took the photo of one of the dogs and sent it to me. That's Romeo, the adopted stray who's part Catahoula and not as bright as we'd like, but he's showing maturity by not going after the chickens. After Opal tried to take a bite out of Piglet the chicken a few months ago, we've kept the big dogs out of the backyard while the chickens are free. But it rained the other day, and youngest son let out Romeo, having forgotten the chickens were out as well. As soon as it hit us that they were all out, he and I ran to the back door, fully expecting to see a dead chicken.  Romeo instead was walking around, minding his own business.  Big sigh.

Gary let him out today with the chickens (on a lead) and after a bit, let him go.  He circles the chickens like he's herding them, but other than that, just leaves them alone.  Mostly he just looks like he's keeping an eye on them.  Romeo is very territorial, and it shows.  He's such a loud barker that when someone is at the door, no matter that it's one of us who's gone out briefly to get the mail, etc., he's either got a short memory, or is plain stupid.  He consistently barks LOUD like he's going to attack. Whatever.  We're sometimes pretty lame too.

Book recommendation and a Feast Day

After reading Sara's recommendation a few days ago, I put The Book Thief by Markus Zusak on hold at the library. Picked it up on Wednesday,youngest son read it first, and I got it after him and finished it tonight (yes, we read like mad men in this house). I'd definitely put it in the pile of a favorite.  Not in the top ten, but definitely in the top twenty. Amazing. Totally amazing.  That's all I'll say.

And tomorrow is All Saints' Day.  Our priest asked me to get predominantly white flowers for the altar and I got two bunches of white roses and some white/pink lilies---those small ones that last so long, called Alstroemeria, so sweet. Anyway, there will be incense at the service, which delights me and I'm very much looking forward to it. Quiet in the midst of busyness, with oldest daughter's birthday on Monday, after having middle daughter's this past Thursday.  And Gary's is a week from tomorrow.  Then we have a birthday lull until after the new year.

Blessings of the day and wishing everyone to get the full benefit of the extra hour of sleep.  I know I will.

Friday afternoon's holiday thoughts

With November now upon us, thoughts naturally turn to the holidays.  Used to, October through December was my favorite time of year---little kids, decorating, hot cocoa, excuses to be silly---you know what I mean.  But since late last year when my mom began acting in a peculiar fashion, pushing us away, I've had to look at the holidays a bit differently.

Now understand our three daughters are observers and have become quite skilled at sizing up situations. My habit is usually to get pretty worked up when we have guests, wanting everything to be perfect.  And while I realize perfection is a toss-up, and depending on who's coming over, I still get nervous.  So, this afternoon I was sitting on the porch with the least one, eating my baked potato lunch and we were chatting. I shared with her (now get this, she's only eleven) about how jittery I get when I try to figure out how to handle Thanksgiving and Christmas, now with my mom's odd behavior.  She said I'd be a wreck for Thanksgiving if we have my mom over---and strangely enough, whenever we ask my mom for dinner anyway, esp. for a holiday, she makes other plans.  So, why this desperation?  Not sure, but my inner need to make sure everyone's taken care of.  That's the only thing I can figure.

So it appears I'll just give the idea a pass of inviting my mom. Still get jealous of those women my age who either have/had good relationships with their moms---their memories catch at my throat.  I wish I had that background, but it's not there, and it's safer to realize that and move along.

Life is too short, and while that's sort of a cliche' thing to say, it is valid.  I'd prefer everyone be well and happy, as my dad used to say when I'd ask what he wanted for Christmas.  That's seems a bit out of my range, but I can take care of what's right in front of me, and my husband and children are in that set of categories.  The rest will just have to be left alone.  But guilt? Absolutely go there without any encouragement, but for my family's sake, will try my hardest to let that emotion alone.