Monday afternoon

Having an at-home day.

Windows up, house cleaning in full sway.  Just getting a feel for being at home after our trip last week.  Gets me off my kilter, but all is well.  I've not been out of town in 15 years.  Yep, you heard right.  All the older kids and Gary have been somewhere in that space of time, but that car accident we had that caused my miscarriage sort of messed me up mentally.  I tend to stay close to home.

Still, for my kids, I'll do just about anything, including quitting my long distance traveling fast.

Deep breaths.  Trying to keep my focus, but I feel a bit addled having to keep my mom's needs tucked in my head alongside ours.  Very difficult.  And startling to have certain health issues (more than one and I won't get into them) caused by/irritated by stress.  But getting a handle on it.  Awareness is part of the battle.

Have a good day.  And it is good.

Graduation Day

Lots going on.  First off, Joseph graduated from Basic Training at Ft. Jackson on Thursday, and we attended a sweet ceremony on Family day (the day before) as well.  As soon as we sat on the bleachers for Family Day, I began to cry.  Just the anticipation and relief at actually seeing him.  I looked around and everyone looked either really excited or calm.  I saw a woman and her husband a couple of rows behind and to the side of us and he had his arm around her.  Parents.  And she was biting her lip, obviously trying not to cry.  And all we were doing was sitting there, waiting for the platoons to march out on to the field. Buncha old softies.

You know what the best part of the whole trip was?  As soon as the Family Day festivities were over, we made our way down out of the stands to find him in formation.  Now, we'd been warned online to limit the public displays of affection, being that a brief hug and kiss would do.  That's all.  I heard that all the time. Well, as soon as Joseph saw me he wrapped me in a hug to end all hugs.  Gary got several photos of it.  Lasted forever.  It was bliss.  We were both just sobbing. Finally we broke apart, and nobody fussed at us (no drill sergeant keeping tabs).  'Course not.

The photo of Joseph above is the one he took with his laptop at the apartment we rented on base for the trip. That was an experience in itself.  We could hear from our place the sound of the cannon and trumpets at wake-up, when the flags were raised and lowered and at bed-time.  Amazing.  To stay on base (which they call post) was wonderful, and as Gary said, "Whenever are we every going to have the opportunity to stay on an Army base to sleep?"

Anyway, and on it goes.  He's at Ft. Lee in Virginia for a couple of months, then he'll be home. This spell probably won't be so tortuous.  He does still have his phone, but they can only use them during personal time.  At least we can get ahold of him.  I do like that. :)

Perspective

~pugs and chickens (about the same size!)

The three youngest went to a funeral at church this morning with me.  I sang in the choir and they sat with friends.  Sweet service, and the message our priest gave was about brokenness.  About how when life is messed up, that's the way it's supposed to be.  Life isn't always tidy---or something to that effect.  I found that hugely comforting.

Life has indeed been messy for a long time, especially the past year.  Partly because of hard-heartedness, but sometimes because I guess that's the way the Lord had it planned.  His will isn't always full of 'ducks in a row.'

When we were in the Parish Hall getting the food ready for the luncheon to be held after the burial, I got a call from my first cousin telling me that her dad had died---my mom's brother-in-law, my sweet uncle who's been in the hospital for several weeks.  I went and saw him there about a month ago, he stayed asleep the whole time and I knew then that'd be the last time I saw him alive.  News of his death was, pretty much, the last straw.  I had to bear up because we were busy, but it was like I couldn't take one more thing.  I was full up.

Then tonight at the store, we picked up a few things for the rest of the weekend.  It's a tad confusing to buy my mom's groceries as well, not being on the right wavelength of that yet, but we make it alright.  Anyway, I've been all fretful about stuff and out of the blue Gary says, "You know, life is tough, but it's good."

I loved that he said that.  It's okay to acknowledge that it's hard, doesn't make sense and causes us to suffer, but it's also good to admit that it's a blessing.  I tend to forget that part.

Week's end

It was my turn to spend the night with my mom last night, and whichever child was there left so I could take over.  I can't tell you who was there---isn't that pathetic?  We're so running on empty that I can't even remember.  Huh.  Still can't, and I'm wracking my brain.

No matter.

When I got there, she was in bed, and while we thought she was asleep, she wasn't.  I went into her room to turn on her bathroom light and shut the door a bit.  Figured she'd need the light if she got up to go to the bathroom.  Well, graceful me hit her doorstop with my shoe and it clanked over, and she stirred and said she wasn't asleep.  I sat down on her bed, she said she had all sorts of things spinning in her head, and we talked.  For two hours.  The darkness in the room helped make it intimate and it was nice.  Me and my mom. The way daughters and moms are supposed to be.  When she finally got sleepy, I hugged her and left, and cried.  Long time coming.

It was all good.  Sweet.  Confiding.

And likely never would've happened if she'd not had a stroke.  Go figure.  She said she feels differently about lots of things, including the man she's been sort of dating FOR SEVEN YEARS.  Get that.  She said very simply last night, Shannon (his name) is into Shannon.  'Nuf said.

Now I'm home, fourth son is at mom's and the three youngest and I are going to a funeral tomorrow morning (none of them have ever been to one---we're hoping for a closed casket).  Like the one a few weeks ago. Service/choir for me, others to graveside service and we'll help get the luncheon ready.

My goodness, life is full, isn't it?

Life with Mom

Trying to get my head around my mom's recovery, if you want to call it that.  Recovery would be an optimistic word.  Trying to get my head around her maintenance is more like it.  She had a walker delivered today, and the paperwork I read that the delivery guy left had me marked as a live-in caregiver.  Ouch.  It's not my job description, but it is as it appears, I reckon.

Hard to not make her life MY life.  To put things in perspective is difficult.  To be a juggler extraordinaire.

I read blogs about folks doing neat stuff.  I wonder to myself, "How in the world do they make that happen?"   Not finding life very neat just now.  It's pretty stinky.

Talked to one of my mom's neighbors today, and she asked how she was, etc.  I jokingly asked her to fill me in on what to do if she had any bright ideas.  She said simply that she'd never had to do anything like we're doing.  Just that.  Honesty.  I like that.  No advice that's not asked for, no smart remarks, but just truth.  She seemed sort of baffled.  Join the club.

One of our friends in the neighborhood shakes her head when our son (who she works with) talks about my mom's situation.  As does my dear friend, Tina.  They have a realistic view of expectations, and what is really do-able and what's not.  What puts the caregiver at risk.  They say things I need to hear, but others seem to gloss over.

I really don't mean to sound like a droopy drawers, but this is requiring such a constant digging into myself for strength and endurance.  Just sitting at my mom's kitchen table and talking (glad she can speak well) for long stretches is exhausting.  I'm not social, she is.  Oh pooh.  Please ignore me.  I just needed to talk.

A tuckered out Saturday

Daisy the pug is having a wondrous recovery from her bladder stone surgery.  You'd never know to look at her that she'd had major surgery done under a week ago.  I remember when Violet had the same thing done back in August that she was so poorly, for up to a week.  I'm so proud. :)

And I was able to eat breakfast with the chickens this morning, which tops out as one of my favorite things, but you know that.  It's my Saturday morning ritual, if the weather is agreeable.  Watching the birds and squirrels, just sitting there and relaxing.  It's darn near perfect.

Talked to boot camp boy as well.  Definite highlight of my day.  We were at my mom's cleaning up her house and he called, and all but two of us were over there.  We passed the phone around and got our fill.  Can't wait to see him, and the call was especially sweet when he told me how much he missed his family.  My goodness, could I love him any more?

Must go now.  Tomorrow will be here soon enough, with picking up my mom and taking her to her house.  I'll be there to spend the night, and we'll see what Monday brings.  As I said a few days ago, if you want to follow the blog I'm writing about her/our journey caring for her with her stroke, just leave a comment here and I'll pass on the web address.  Several of you already have, and I appreciate it.

Words about Lent

Thanks for all the comments in regards to my rant in the Ash Wednesday posts---the ones fussing at the folks doing the Ash and Dash, or the get-your-ashes-as-you-drive-by pseudo rituals some churches participated in.

Here's the way I see it:  Too many churches/denominations, so to speak, throw the baby out with the bathwater in regards to sacred traditions.  I was a reformed Presbyterian for years and loved the history of that denomination.  But as an Anglican I can see how some Protestant churches abandoned many rituals that add a glorious amount of beauty to the services.  Some regard the extra candles, the repetitive readings, the processions before and at the end of the services an excess.  I disagree.  And while some would say that the Anglicans often smack of too much Catholic, I say, so what?  Only in presentation.  Anglicans don't pray to saints or depend on the priest to provide absolution (though Confession is an option), but they do embrace a beautiful method of reverencing our Lord.

The Emergent church movement has attempted to bring back the bells and incense---but do they know what they're doing, are they just dressing up the services in an artistic fashion missing out on the history?  I sort of think so.  If you've ever listened to a priest put on his robes, etc. on a Sunday morning while he thinks he's alone (I've eavesdropped, I admit), then you'd know that there's a method and reason behind every little thing.  As he puts on each piece of clothing (and there's lots), he's praying over each bit.  I find that amazing. My husband, not so much.  He finds the details a bit over the top, but thankfully, doesn't stand in my way of worship.

Having said that, we'll go to a Lenten soup supper tonight.  Prayer liturgy before, eats after.  I made white bean soup and resisted putting any meat-flavored seasoning (bouillon, etc.) since some folks abstain from meat.  We're not doing a serious Lenten fast at our house, but try respect those who are.  If I'm doing anything, it's cutting back on sugar, but again, not being too legalistic about it.  But, probably should. :)