I was feeling a bit down in the dumps last night and so I retreated to the closet. It’s a place where I can think and pray without being noticed.
Except I was.
Bayta snorted, fussed, and then barked until I opened the door. Joining me on my lap, I could no longer sit in silence with my thoughts. She insisted on belly scratches and kisses. The fog began to lift.
I rejoined the family after taking some St. John’s Wart, watching the grandchildren show us tricks with their new scooters. The funk wasn’t over, but the fog continued lifting.
But in the quiet of the night, I recapped the day and prayed for my heart.
I named all the things that were going well in my life, trying to convince myself that there was nothing to be gloomy about. I had a really good day. Where did this come from?
I prayed for everything that I was worried and disappointed about. I think that was it.
When I got home from running errands and getting my hair cut at 4 pm, my favorite man hadn’t had one thing to eat. He often has just coffee for breakfast, but has lunch when he feeds the kids. Yesterday he did not. It immediately set my body on high alert. I go back to school in 2 weeks! He has to eat while I’m away. He can’t just have coffee and Tootsie Pops.
Then I went into the Back to School/End of Summer Slump, which took me into the I Haven’t Accomplished Everything I Wanted To Do This Summer Slump.
This took me into the Today It’s My Grandson’s Birthday and I Miss Him So Much Slump. Sadly, our son and his wife divorced in January 2022, which meant that we were also divorced. We haven’t seen our grandchildren and their mother since October of 2019. It’s been 4 years. We haven’t seen our son since November of 2017, 6 years ago. The Navy is not family friendly.
October 2019December 2017December 2017
It’s a vicious cycle. We miss them. We mourn the dissolving of the family. And in an effort to protect the kids from pain, we have been blocked. It hurts.
Once in a while we sneak a glimpse of the the kids from the church website and we listen to Christopher on his sports podcast. But it’s not the same. I wonder if they think we don’t care?
Christopher 2023Alexis 2023 (Left, with glasses)
My heart hurts.
So now what? I’m thinking about putting together an Un-Birthday box and sending it to the kids. We do have their address- that’s it. Maybe I could put together a photo album of their Maine family in a care package, so that they know we think about them every single day. They need us and we need them.
Most importantly, I pray that the kids and their father repair their relationship. I just hope that it happens sooner than later so that we can reunite. We are in year 10 of a dementia diagnosis and I worry. Will they ever see my favorite man again this side of heaven?
See what I mean? I’m in a swirl. I need to knock it off.
I recently read an article about how to answer a greeting. Usually people ask how you are doing as a greeting, but most often don’t really want to know how you are. So the standard answer is, “I’m fine.” I’ve been working on stopping, looking into the eyes of especially the downcast person, and asking again- 100% engaged. I want to be helpful. More than anything I want to provide a little nugget of encouragement so that they can continue into their day knowing that someone knows their hurt and cares.
So I’ve been doing a study on contentment. Sometimes I only get 7 minutes, but in that short time, I walk away with new thoughts and strategies. This particular author suggests answering greetings with, “Can’t complain.” Her premise is that no matter how terrible things are going at the moment, it could be so much worse.
Every summer I work on my own personal health journey to get healthy mind, spirit, and body after a long and challenging school year. This summer is no different. Part of my journey is to find JOY. I look for it everywhere I go. When I find it, I claim it either in written words or out loud. I have so much to be thankful for and when I purposefully seek it, I am much happier.
Life is tough. We’ve had some personal challenges in our family that has knocked the wind out of us. That unrest is much more difficult for a person with dementia. His brain is dying. He doesn’t process like he once did. He used to be able to listen, help us to untangle the mess in our mind, and set us off with a task of what to do first, second, and third. He can’t do that any more. The problem: he looks like he can. Nothing visible is broken. His response to drama, trauma, and strife is to grab his head, close his eyes, and get angry. Sometimes he holds onto his frustration for weeks.
He still has a strong moral code. He wants his loved ones to make good choices, work hard, be honest, and to follow basic human rules and standards. He is frustrated by poor choices and laziness. He expects everyone to take care of what they have been gifted. This frustration stems from the family all the way to the top. Current events and those in leadership make him angry. Of late, he is angry that the church is not taking more of a stand- loudly proclaiming what is biblically right and wrong.
This week we saw The Sound of Freedom in the theaters, and this has solidified his fears for our young people and the future of our country. I can’t blame him. He’s not wrong. But with dementia, it can be all consuming. It’s like a record player that skips and keeps playing the same song over and over again.
Music pulls him out of it. I often put a concert on the big screen TV in the living room and he will stop and throw up his hands in praise. The puppy helps. Those two have the most special bond. She is everything we could have asked for in a support dog. Even now, as I write, she is curled up on his lap, enjoying his soft bathrobe and gentle patting. We have also been listening to the Harry Potter series on Audible. To help him visualize the story, I stop and show the movie midway. Interestingly, there are times when he will say, “Hey, that wasn’t in the book.” Our favorite times to listen are on car rides. He still loves to ride and he enjoys the air conditioning on hot days. That being said, he does not want to get out of the car unless it is a quiet place and somewhere where he will not be expected to remember anyone. He still knows what he doesn’t know. But he will get out to sit at a picnic table for a clam basket or an ice cream!
I have noticed some regression in his memory. We have watched many favorite TV series and movies over and over for a good while now. The good news is that I know which ones he enjoys and I don’t mind rewatching shows that bring him joy.
Sadly, when I showed him pictures of our wedding on our anniversary, he recognized only my brother from the wedding party. I worked really hard to jog his memory about the others, but he just shook his head. The other day he said that he couldn’t remember what his parents looked like. So, I found some pictures. His response was, “My parents don’t look like that.” I searched Facebook for pictures of his siblings, and sadly, he didn’t recognize any of them. Oddly, when I show him old ones of them growing up, I’m more likely to get a recollection, but it’s a crapshoot. They just don’t look like he remembers them. I wonder if that is why his parents didn’t look like he thought they would?
Mostly, I don’t ask. He gets rattled when I quiz him. My job is to make him happy, to provide consistency, and to make him feel safe. I tell him a lot of stories. I don’t ask, “Do you remember….” Instead, I tell him stories. I tell him about when the kids were born. I tell him about our wedding day. I tell him about things he wouldn’t want to forget. I am his memory.
Thankfully, he remembers those of us that he sees regularly- most of the time. He might confuse names on occasion. There are a select few that he recognizes from church- generally the ones he sees on a weekly basis. But it varies. He’s also a good faker, so sometimes it’s hard to know. He might not recognize them going in, but does on the way out. The dog helps a lot.
This doesn’t make me sad. It brings me JOY. I’m glad that I can help the man I love more than anything. I live to make him as happy as I possibly can, so thankful for the extra time that we have been granted. I’m so very grateful and never ever want to take this gift for granted.
It’s been a busy Spring and Dementia has been living with us, although we have asked, pleaded, and demanded for him to leave. Today, he is selfish.
My favorite man has been doing some crazy things over the past few months. This week, I found a brick in my underwear drawer. Last month, we had chips in the refrigerator, and the living room furniture remains in the dining room, and the dining room furniture remains in the living room. Our bedroom has been moved around, and the legs on the bookshelf have been shaved off to make it wall mounted storage. The TV is now hanging from a different corner, and wall decor has been switched around. The good news is that although we still don’t know what happened to the lawn mower, the cover has been successfully glued back together.
Mostly, I don’t care. I find the brain quite fascinating and the kids and I just go with the flow. I do appreciate when my daughter gives me a “heads up” before a big change, like when he has accidentally shaved his head to the scalp or shaved his face because he forgot to put the guard on again.
Sometimes I get caught off guard, don’t notice what I should, and mess up my reactions. Dementia doesn’t have rules, and I don’t always know I’ve messed up until I have.
It’s a guessing game, especially when leaving the house. Do we bring the dog? How long can I ask him to be away before he gets tired and cranky? It takes me back to the days of having 3 children under 5 years old. We always had an A plan, B plan, and C plan. We prepared for a variety of scenarios and always had an exit strategy.
All the planning in the world doesn’t prepare us for the tricky days and the sharp responses, digging in his heals in refusal, and the unkind words- which are usually directed toward me in frustration.
My favorite man cannot handle drama, confusion, and negative emotions. He used to be able to help us to navigate challenges, but not any more. All negative emotions make him frustrated and angry. Those not around regularly think he’s just being a jerk, but the girls and I know it is not him. It is that jerk Dementia. He’s sneaky and often presents himself like a teenage child. The good news is that on those days, he often works well with our 12 year old grandson.
The most difficult part of this journey is that Dementia is instrumental in keeping my favorite man at home. He perseverates on shows, politics, and things that interest him. He watches and rewatches movie series, and YouTube music videos.
Last week he knew very few people at church. It made my heart sad. It is difficult to go into places where he knows that others know him, but he has no idea who they are. This week I was telling him all about my sister, and his brother who grows raspberries. Although it bums me out, I am grateful for those he does remember.
Our daughter signed him up for Storyworth two years ago. I’m having to help him to answer the questions more and more. We are watching Call the Midwife for about the 8th time, and each episode is a surprise. He follows politics, and sincerely loves music- especially musicals. This cracks me up, because he never used to like them. He couldn’t understand why people would break into song and ruin a good storyline. He still loves to garden and mow the lawn. I pray that he always does.
Although Dementia refuses to leave the house, I am grateful that God has been so good to us. He has preserved my favorite man’s life and is keeping him “with us” for so much longer than the doctors estimated. I am reminded that God uses all things for His good, for those who love Him- and we do. So, we will continue to do our best to work with our unwanted visitor. I am just so grateful that God promises to be with us every step of the way. That make’s this journey bearable.
It’s been quite a month on the mountain, and I’m happy to report that we are still upright and still smiling. However, I must admit that by 6:00 we may be in our PJ’s and by 7:30, we might be in bed!
In early April, we had a surprise ice storm and I slipped on the ramp, while taking the dog out. Thankfully, when I fell, the whole arm took the impact and nothing broke. However, it is still not back to 100%. I just don’t bounce like I used to!
April Vacation was quiet. The weather was uncooperative, so we spent most of it at home laying low. The highlight of the week was to take the dog to the vet for her yearly check-up. That’s when things started to take a turn.
Bayta had her vet check and didn’t respond well to her shots. She was sore for days with a bump on her bottom for about 2 weeks. However, we enjoyed a breezy 44 degree walk and browsed through our favorite greenhouse in order to try to improve her spirits and her worried Papa.
Then our sweet fur baby got sick. We ended up at the emergency ER Vet. Bayta was so very sick- pooping blood and vomiting everywhere. $1000 later, we found out that our pup has a very sensitive stomach and she can no longer have any table scraps. We nearly killed our baby with kindness…
This week she is finally acting like her old self, but this has taken a toll on my sweet man…
For months my favorite man has been on hair cut strike. I don’t know if it is because he has been scared of the clippers, the noise, or if he just wanted to grow his hair out. At one point, he said he wanted to look like one of our friends at church. Over the last couple weeks, he decided that it was time to trim his hair. I asked him what he wanted. He didn’t know, so we settled on shorter, like when we were first married. It looked better and he still had a bushy beard. He showered and told me that it was still too bushy around the ears. He said he looked like he had a bowl cut, but we agreed I’d fix it another day.
Before I could cut his hair again, I had a crazy long night of conferences. I worried that my favorite man would take the dog’s meds instead of his own. I worried that he would confuse them and give the dog his. Thankfully, it went fine. However, he decided to trim his own hair around his ears- with a pair of clippers- without the guard.
So he looks like his old self again.
This winter, the flagpole took a hit, so this week he straightened it and has started working outside again. Yesterday he mowed and today he has absolutely no idea what happened to his lawnmower. The lights fell off the front and the hood is smashed. He just went out and found it that way. He has no clue what happened. Today we went to Tractor Supply for epoxy to try to glue it back together. Dementia can be very destructive.
I got ready to step into the shower and there was a wad of clothes in the shower. I had no idea what happened. Maybe he had an accident or spilled on himself? Nope. He got into the shower with his clothes on.
Today we had to go to town for more creamer. Sadly, he put it in the cupboard and it spoiled.
So it’s been a wild month. Add the worry of a sick child, the pressure he puts on himself to help our youngest with homeschooling, a wife who ended up in the ER with an angry and painful UTI, and a mother-in-law who fell again Thursday night, landing in the ER with 4 staples in her head & covered in fresh bruises, this poor guy is a mess.
In the world of dementia- confusion & worry are crippling. He struggles to navigate negative emotions, which makes him angry and forgetful, making mistakes.
So today, on the 35th anniversary of being a mother, I am hugely appreciative of family time, BBQ’s, ice cream, puppy snuggles, the hum of the fireplace, a good movie, and one more year with my favorite man.
I am determined that Dementia will not destroy my spirit or steal my joy.
I love the Facebook memories that come up. On this date 10 years ago, I was boarding a plane to head home from Washington state. I had been visiting my son and his family.
Little did I know that once I arrived home, my husband would lose his job of 17 years and we would begin a roller coaster of events that included losing half of our income over night, meeting with a private investigator, 7 months of financial strain, and depression like I’d never experienced in my life.
Moose Point State Park April 20, 2013
My once confident husband had been experiencing what we considered a mid-life temper tantrum for 4-years and it came to a head in April of 2013 when the company he worked for needed a scape goat for a mistake on an insurance claim for a customer. Although we hired a lawyer to represent us, he did not qualify for Unemployment. We repealed the decision, but lost twice.
In November, our prayers were answered and my favorite man started a new job doing a very similar job for another company. After 5 months, (1-year almost to the day), he lost his second job.
Thankfully the second company was kinder, and suggested he see a doctor. They felt that he had something wrong with his short term memory. So 9 years ago almost to the day, we contacted our doctor and began the process of figuring out what was going on.
With dementia, doctors begin with the obvious: depression. Then they move to blood tests, MRI, and cognitive exams. By the summer of 2014, he was given the diagnosis of Frontotemporal Dementia, most likely caused by too many blows to the head.
We saw specialist after specialist (racking up doctor’s bills with money we didn’t have) only to find that the diagnosis was correct, nothing could be changed, and that it was terminal. At that time, they gave him 5-8 years, telling us that by year 8 he would be non verbal and unable to care for himself.
I hadn’t allowed myself to grieve, doing all I could to help my favorite man and to find answers. Oddly, I found a support group of caregivers for those diagnosed with younger onset dementia. They were most helpful, giving me a list of 25 things to do immediately.
It’s hard to do much without money. Our friends and family knew we were in trouble, but even to this day, they have no idea how bad it was. We didn’t qualify for help because I made too much on my teacher’s salary. We survived by the good will of others- anonymous gift cards for food and boxes left in our front steps. One time I went to the cashier at our local grocery store and she didn’t charge me for my food. She said that someone had left a donation for me. I still don’t know who it was. Without the kindness of others, we wouldn’t have eaten and most likely would have lost our home.
Time after time, we’d be down to the final hour and we’d get just enough money to make a payment. Sometimes it didn’t happen and we went without. But honestly, without our faith, family, and friends, this excruciating experience would have been unbearable.
At the same time, I had a few years of incredibly difficult students in my classroom. I came very close to a breakdown.
Two and a half years later…
We finally received Social Security Disability Insurance- losing twice, having to go before a judge. On the day of the hearing we had a snow storm and the courthouse was closed. We burst into tears. We cried out to God and our prayers were answered when they settled over the phone. We were floored when they said that payments would be retroactive to when we first started the paperwork in 2013. This allowed us to pay debt we had accrued. We were able to pay lawyers and buy a headatone.
The farm gave my sweet man some odd jobs, mowing and weeding. While working, he scooted across rebar in the bunker silo, and a piece broke off in his butt cheek. He had 2 surgeries that left a significant scar.
He also had his neck operated on. He had vertebrae fused to relieve excruciating pain. In earlier years, we found that he had oral cancer on his tongue and inside his cheek that we continued to monitor, going back and forth to Mass General. He was a medical mess.
In 2016 my favorite man had trouble managing his high blood pressure, which resulted in a stroke. He ended up in a wheelchair for 10 months and walked with a leg brace for 5 years.
So as you might imagine, mid-April brings back a flood of memories. I feel like I will always have some PTSD regarding what we’ve gone through.
Not everything is public. Much of what we went through remains private in order to preserve the dignity of my favorite man and all he has withstood.
Oddly, I think he is a better human because of all he’s experienced and his forced early retirement. He needed a change. He needed to get out of some toxic situations. But going through the valley was absolutely excruciating for all involved. I have had many crying sessions behind the garage, in the closet, and in the shower.
I have yelled at God and thankfully He has forgiven me for that. He has BIG shoulders. Honestly, I felt at times that I was being punished by default: guilty by association. But as I leaned in to my Maker and searched His heart and His design for my life, I saw that He was always with me during the most challenging days. I am so grateful for that.
Some day mid-April won’t be so painful. But it still stings. I am grateful that Dementia has taken most of the painful memories from my favorite man- showing up for short moments every once in a while.
So this has become my burden to bear. With the Lord’s help I will heal and hopefully others will be blessed by hearing our story knowing that they they are not alone and because that is such a comfort to me.
Bad things happen to good people. None of us are exempt. I’m just so thankful for a Creator who promises never to leave my side EVER. What a comfort. Mostly, I am grateful that my favorite man is doing as well as he is 10 years later. God is so good to us. I am just so thankful for one more year with my soulmate.
My favorite man just read me an article from Facebook that reminds us to enjoy all things- even when it’s hard. This really has been my life’s mission. Joy is a choice and I actively work for it. I have come to realize that I can’t rely on others to fill my bucket. It isn’t their responsibility. In our humanness, we are GOING to let each other down. I need to recalculate and readjust as my journey takes on twists and turns. So I have “tools in my toolbox” in the ready at all times.
“Mom, I need your advice.” I count it a blessing that I still hear that quite often. But grown children are tricky and giving feedback is not easy. I have to use phrases like, “When your father and I experienced—, this is what worked for us….” or “Have you considered…” or “I wonder if…” It’s difficult to know how much to say, how much to listen, and how much to intervene and I’m not going to lie, I often flop. I am a fixer, so to say that this is challenging is an understatement. But I am thrilled that all three still come to my favorite man and I often. I’d like to think that this is what all parents pray for.
One thing that I do with my children is to share what I am learning in my devotions as it relates to their latest challenges and worries. Most recently, I have been doing a study called: Lord, Where Are You When Bad Things Happen? by Kay Arthur. So to those who are struggling with that questions, this is what I have learned recently:
*I need to keep a close check on myself and not worry about what anyone else does or says. Habakkuk was an interesting prophet who asked God a lot of hard questions, like: “Where are you? Do you see what is going on down here?” In the end, God reminded Habakkuk to keep a close check on himself and God would take care of the rest. Although Habakkuk’s situation didn’t change, his attitude did, and God stayed with him through the storm. I was reminded that I need to stop worrying about what everyone else does or thinks. My responsibility is to be righteous and keep leaning into God, getting to know Him more and more. It brings me comfort knowing that I don’t always know the big picture, but God does, and will walk with me through the storms. My mom used to always say that, “If we do the right thing, we don’t need to worry about doing the wrong thing.”
*I need to stay in the Word. In Colossians 2, Paul was concerned about people and churches that had fallen out of line with the Word of God. It happens. But the more time I spend in the Word, learning the truth, doing the right thing, and getting to know God, the more prepared I am when I come in contact with people who are out of step. Hopefully, I will then give good counsel.
*I may need to make changes. In 2 Corinthians 7: 8-11, God shares that sometimes we need godly sorrow in order to make changes in ourselves. At times, people not only turn away, but actually embrace sin, and because God can’t be around it, He is distant. That can explain why I don’t always see, feel, or hear Him.
*I need to forgive. In Jeremiah 3 and 4, Israel was a hot mess- similar to what the world is facing now. God challenges us to chip away and cut away hurt, anger, and bitterness so that our hearts can beat for Him. Our anger and hurt can get in the way. I need to forgive and really let hurt go. We are encouraged to practice justice, and to live righteously or God will pour out His wrath. My job is to keep my eyes and ears trained on His will and let God take care of the rest. I need to cling to Him even when I can’t feel Him, see Him, or hear Him because I KNOW He is there. After all, God forgives me over and over, I need to do the same. I certainly don’t want God to pour out his wrath on ME.
Another lesson that I like to share on this topic is from a past-pastor. He shared that bad things happen to good people for 3 different reasons:
It is a consequence to one of my actions. So the first thing I should do is spend some time reflecting about my life and my choices.
I need pruning. Like a healthy tree, I may need to do some trimming in my life that may include my activities, work, or people I associate with.
We live in a fallen world. We can’t be surprised when adversity happens in a world where so many have walked away from their Creator. Evil is all around us.
My suggestion to my children is to start journaling, writing down all their blessings, times they KNOW He was with them, and miracles He has performed on their behalf. He has given to us abundantly and much more than we deserve. I encourage them to lean into God, making it a priority to live faithfully even through their anguish. Important lessons are being learned through the hard times and people are watching. We need to be a shining example for those around us. God is the supreme ruler and he always works all things for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. I love my babies more than anything and in their adversity, I pray that they don’t ever stop making their relationship with God a priority. My prayer is that they make Him the most important thing in their family’s lives. Most importantly, I would encourage my babies to keep communicating. We have an obligation to come along side of others who have or are facing challenges- especially if we have “been there and done that’. Otherwise all the hard times will be for nothing.
The update for my sweet man is that he is mostly doing well, although we have seen some regression this fall and winter. He has forgotten most friends and family a lot of the time. His memory comes and goes. When I shared birthday wishes, he didn’t recognize the names of most everyone, even with helpful hints and stories. Yet, the next day, he was telling stories of his childhood, mentioning classmates, family, and friends he hasn’t seen or heard from in 40 years. Sometimes he forgets that he has Facebook, and other times, he looks through profiles, smiling and sharing posts that he finds amusing. He’s still highly interested in politics and the news, worrying about the state of our government and the future of our children and grandchildren. Music is extremely helpful, and the Bee Gee’s can always bring him out of a slump. He still plows snow like a champ. We borrowed the farm tractor early in the season and he never skipped a beat- relying on his long-term memory. He shocks me. One day, he’s a mess and can barely speak. The next day, he’s putting together a complicated puzzle with our grandson. He still cooks. He most recently has taken to making homemade Gluten Free bread for our granddaughter. Thankfully, most of the time, he remembers the kids and I. However, there are moments of confusion that thankfully, don’t last a long time. We just have to move slowly, speak quietly, keep him from becoming agitated, and put the puppy in his arms. Our granddaughter has always had a magical effect on him. The good thing about dementia is that although HE doesn’t always know what he wants, WE do. We pop in a favorite movie, music, meal, or snack. We start a “new to him” puzzle, or drive him to a favorite spot. The good news is that he still likes all the same things he has always liked. The best thing that we’ve done recently, is register the puppy as a service dog. She goes with us nearly everywhere we go, providing comfort and quieting nerves. She especially loves church!
Long story short, life is hard for everyone. Keep asking for advice from those you trust and love. Don’t give up and remain faithful to what you KNOW to be true. Live righteously, check yourself often and adjust when necessary. Aim for balance- mind, spirit, and body and recognize that one most generally needs work. It’s life.
Ride the bumps, find the joy, and don’t waste one precious moment. Light a candle, go for a walk, read a book, do a puzzle, make a favorite meal, get an ice cream, and hug a pet. Most importantly, check in with your parents if they are still around. They are a wealth of knowledge. Even if they cross the line every now and then, I feel blessed to still have mine.
Every day is a new day and it’s going to be what I make it. So, I’m determined to make it a good one. Thankfully hard times don’t generally last a long time and forcing a recharge often solves a multitude of issues.
Today I am thankful for a quiet weekend and a recharge. It gives me a chance to reflect on all of the blessings afforded to my family.
Blessing Number 1: Our son is off the transplant list. After extensive testing through the Mayo Clinic in Florida, they have determined that with the current medication, diet, and exercise plan, he is managing his Type 2 Diabetes, and his liver related numbers are improving. At this time, it looks like his compromised liver is repairing itself. This is such a huge answer to prayer. He is feeling better physically, so his spirits have improved. He is seeing the children more often and he is actively seeking a new church community. This is a huge relief to this worried set of parents.
Blessing Number 2: We took out a small loan to replace the snowplow truck that died. The replacement, a 20-year old Chevy, is just 2 years newer than the old one. The bonus is that the old one can be used as parts for the new one. The snowplow moved from one truck to the other, and with a small amount of work, it is now prepared to move snow and keep the driveway clear during average snowstorms.
Blessing Number 3: The wood pellets are bagged and stacked for winter. My brother had the opportunity to buy in bulk and we used the compost system at the farm to bag pellets into compost bags. It sure does look funny, but it worked! We enjoyed spending the day together last weekend to work together as families, preparing for cold weather. We have also been topped off with oil and propane.
Blessing Number 4: My favorite man has worked nearly every day for 3 months to tighten up the house and get everything tended to and put away for the winter. It is such a relief to say that we are ready for the brutal cold and wind.
Blessing Number 5: Although our daughter’s car is on the way out, our local mechanic was able to get it going a little longer, in order to buy us time to research and find a replacement. I am so grateful for parents and a husband who are willing and able to do the legwork in order to insure that she gets into a reliable vehicle for the winter.
Blessing Number 6 is 13 steps away. Our youngest and her family continue to live with us, making it possible for me to continue to go to work each day and not worry. They help with the dog, and make sure my sweet man is fed and safe. I truly don’t worry when I’m at school.
Blessing Number 7 is a result of COVID. We still have the opportunity to listen to our church services on line when we are unable to physically make it to church. Whatever the reason- we have the online option, which we had been asking for prior to the pandemic. Although we miss our friends, we get the message, and for that we are grateful.
Blessing Number 8: We are relatively healthy, and so are my parents. Dad is 90 and Mom turns 86 next Saturday and I do not take one single minute with them for granted. At almost 57, I still rely on their wisdom and guidance so very much.
Blessing Number 9: My car still runs, and my favorite man was able to super glue the rear light back on, which got punched in when I backed into a snowbank last winter. It’s now legal, stickered, and registered. A big “SORRY ABOUT THAT” to the young man at Midas who we sent back three times to check our registration. We insisted that it was up to date and kept sending him back to look. Turns out, it had run out in August. Oops.
Blessing Number 10: Candles that are on sale, putting up the Christmas tree, watching a good movie, picking at leftover Halloween candy in front of the fireplace, while listening to the rain is cathartic.
There will always be challenges. There will always be something to worry about. The elections this week did not go as I’d prayed it would. I am still not exercising and I’m eating terribly. But there is always tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will show everyone I come in contact with that I am a strong woman who won’t succumb to adversity and the challenges of daily living. I will be grateful and thankful for the blessings of today. Although I will work to be prepared, I will try not to worry about the future. I will hug my loved ones, snuggle our puppy, and work to keep my eyes trained on what I can control. More than anything, I will continue to make it my priority to be the best example I can possibly be, bringing all honor and glory to my Maker.
A big “THANK YOU” to all those who reached out over the past month to offer prayer and encouragement. It meant so very much to me and gave me courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I’m not going to lie, this week has tapped me out. Most of the time, I am a “glass half full” kind of gal. I work hard to uplift everyone and be Susie Sunshine. But this week, I am feeling all the things I work so hard not to feel. I know I’m not alone, which doesn’t really help.
So what do I do when my cup is empty?
For me, I need to talk about it. I process out loud. So I have to find someone who will listen and to validate my worries.
Winter is coming whether we are ready for it or not, and it is especially brutal on the mountain. That is one of my biggest worries. With the increased cost of EVERYTHING, especially gas, heating oil, propane, pellets, and electricity, I worry about how in the world we are going to get through a brutally cold winter. On top of that, this week our plow truck has been deemed JUNK by our local mechanic. So the $419 we just dumped into it was wasted. This means that we are in a frantic search for a replacement. Thankfully, we have neighbors who help us with the big storms, but we need to be able to keep the driveway clear for the smaller ones.
Our oldest has had a horrendous year. In January he and his wife divorced and he is having to navigate a life of loneliness and shared custody which has been a devastating loss for all of us. We’d give anything put our arms around him and to see our grandchildren. It’s been a very long time. Stupid COVID. Stupid Navy. Stupid expensive plane tickets. Now he’s sick. Big sick. Like, he needs a liver transplant kind of sick. Doctors don’t know the cause, but he has a failing liver, which has also created Type 2 Diabetes. We’d give anything to bring him home and nurse him to health, but it’s not an option. He’s not too sick to work, so he continues to report for duty. The silver lining is that he loves his new job as a boatswain. It’s like a “jack of all trades” in the Navy and much less stressful than his previous job as an MA (Naval Police Officer). His mates have also been wonderfully supportive.
Our daughters have their challenges as well, and we are grateful that they live nearby so that we can talk them through each life hurtle. Our oldest is 2 hours away, and our youngest and her family live with us. It hurts my heart when they hurt and I can’t do a thing to help. I’m a fixer, and when I can’t fix it, I become miserable for the babies I love so deeply.
Mostly, Dementia stays away. But sometimes he comes to visit and it almost always catches me off guard. Yesterday was that day. It was our oldest child’s 35th birthday, and when I reminisced with my favorite man, he didn’t remember the day of his birth. I cheerfully said, “that’s okay, I’ll remember it for you”, and then retreated to the kitchen to gulp. I tell him that it doesn’t matter, but it does. and I am once again angry with that jerk Dementia who robbed my sweet man of precious memories. When I share with my daughter, she reminds me that it is morning. She suggests taking the time to buy a cupcake for each us and walk down memory lane with the old photo albums and VCR tapes. It’s a good idea. Hopefully it will jog his memory. I know that FORGETTING is our eventual reality, but it’s easy to forget when “he looks so good” and does so well at home.
After I safely vent aloud, I 100% search for good wise counsel, hoping for practical suggestions. I surround myself with like-minded people who can talk me off the ledge at a moments notice, like my mother and my kids, when worry about the future overwhelms me. When I wonder how in the world I’ll ever afford to retire, or how I’m going to afford to keep the house after Dementia finally has his way, or whether I even WANT to stay in this headache of a house, fighting the continual upkeep, keeping it heated, and the dreaded snow removal. What in the world am I going to do when I have to go at it without my partner? That being said, how could I walk away from all the memories of his Gift from God (the house)? He’s worked every single section of the 7.5 acres making it his own- pouring his soul into it. But I can’t live up here alone or keep up with the demands of the property. My head swirls.
And then I hear a soft whisper in my soul. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
Stop.
Just stop.
I do, then I spin again. It’s been a wild week at school. Parent Teacher Conferences have worn me out. I’m feeling (almost) 57. The pep in my step has become a stroll. I’m exhausted, like everyone else, but that doesn’t help. My defenses are down, so I am eating poorly, which makes my knees ache and my stomach hurt. I’m a hot mess.
My mother writes to me, to remind me that we have a Women’s Fellowship function at church and I almost cry. My husband has just coaxed me out of the closet, where I have been curled up like a ball. Our son had called, and had a crappy lonely birthday. On top of that, the cards we sent didn’t go to the right address. I don’t want to go. I just want to wallow.
But I go, and I’m blessed. I remember that it is important to share my story to encourage and uplift others. I’m reminded that if we don’t share the crappy days, others feel alone- like they are the only ones facing hardship. I am reminded that God calls us to gather with like-minded people who will pray for us and sit in the closet with us while we cry out to God. I am reminded that God doesn’t even need words. He knows our hearts and that the Holy Spirit will speak on our behalf.
When I go to bed, nursing my sore knees, I thank God for Aspercreme, Tylenol, and Pepto. I lay out my worries to God and visually place everyone and everything at the foot of the cross. I hear the soft voice of God telling me that everything is going to be okay, and that I have so many things that I am blessed by: a family that loves me, a sweet puppy that we adore, a vehicle that runs, a job that I enjoy most of the time, pellets being delivered next week (my brother found a good deal buying in bulk). The weather is gorgeous and the trees are beautiful. We will get the car registered and inspected when we can get to the Town Office when it is open, and we have the opportunity to look at a possible plow truck late this afternoon.
Sunshine helps. So does sitting on the deck in front of the fire pit, admiring the view. So do fry pies from the local Amish store. Lighting candles, sitting in front of the stove, listening to a good audiobook bring me back to reality and resets my mind.
So in the quiet of our home, I am reminded that every day is a new day and it’s going to be what I make it. So, I’ll make it a good one.
For a variety of reasons, this summer has been spent close to home. As a result of inflation and the fact that incomes aren’t rising at the rate everything else is, we have been forced to stay put. We haven’t any new projects to report. We haven’t been on any trips, except for a weekend away for our belated anniversary- which is an interesting story to tell. So, we have remained at home, focusing on our gardens.
This year we added a second vegetable garden. One is simply for “crawlies” and the other is for the remaining vegetables. My favorite man has insisted that this is the year that we put up vegetables “the way my mother used to do it”. So, we have purchased Mason jars and a pressure cooker to put up beans. It’s been an adventure, and thanks to Youtube, we have managed to put up quite a few jars of beans to enjoy this winter. We also learned to make pickles. Do you have any idea how many pickle recipes are out there on the internet? Holy cow! We settled on Mrs. Wages packets that we got from the local hardware store. I’m happy to report that we have some nice looking pickles! I also taught my favorite man how to make raspberry jam with berries from our property. He loved the experience and proudly gives them away to anyone who stops by the house!
Our kids are doing fairly well. We try to be careful about oversharing in order to protect their privacy. What we will share is that we continue to be thrilled that they desire a relationship with us. At 34, 32, and 29, we talk to our sweet babies a couple times a day. I’m thankful that they seek our counsel, value our insight, and want to be an active part of our lives. We, in turn are trying really hard to be active listeners and not to share advice unless they ask for it. We are a work in progress.
I’d like to say everything is always butterflies and roses, but that would not be truthful. However, I will say that we are grateful for the aid that we get from our Maker. Recently, our family experienced a pretty scary event that could have left us paralyzed with fear. Only it didn’t. We were concerned, but it didn’t leave us frantic. I am thankful for gentle reminders that God holds us in his mighty right hand, and that He walks beside us as we walk through the valley of darkness. I’m grateful for the personal relationship that I have with God and the comfort that He supplies. I’m even more grateful that the situation is improving.
I pray for my babies and my grandbabies. Three are 1,187 miles away and we haven’t seen them for a very long time. One is 2-hours away, and 4 are 13 steps away. They are our legacy and we love them so very much.
The good news is that most days, my favorite man is doing well. Gratefully, he is able to be home doing what he wants, when he wants, and for however long he wants. Down time usually includes listening to Crime Junkie or listening to books online. This summer we listened to The Diary of Anne Frank. He really liked that. He has watched every season of Call The Midwife with me and is now binge watching Deadliest Catch. Our spunky little 8 month old Chihuahua naps with him every day, snuggled safely against my sweet man. He still enjoys puzzles that “aren’t too hard”, and follows the news closely.
As I write, I am preparing him for my return to school in 2 weeks. In order to do that, this past week we worked on setting up the classroom together. I’ve always done that with the kids, and now I do that with him. Transitioning is very difficult, so I’m starting early.
So, as I prepare to begin my 33rd year of teaching, I am optimistic about another great year. I continue to wake up every day prepared to enjoy every second, grateful to be around those I love the most. I am confident that God will provide for us everything we need, and that He won’t leave our sides for roadblocks and potholes on the highway of this crazy ride.
Thank you to those who continue to support us and encourage us. It gives us courage and keeps our compass pointed in the right direction. You are a true blessing.
Life is unpredictable and hard. My mother likes to remind us that “God never promised us a rose garden”. She is right. She is so wise and I admire her so very much. I truly believe that it is her example that has made me into the person I am today. Her strength and resolve to remain faithful, dedicated, and determined through some pretty tough times, keeps me grounded and gives me hope.
My parents lived through the depression. Although Dad’s story is much more challenging than Mom’s, both have a cominatility of resilience. Dad shares of my grandmother dumpster diving for food thrown out by grocery stores. Grammy would peel the rot off the outside and feed the inside to the family. They also ate a whole lot of potatoes- so much so, that to this day, Dad could care less if he ever ate them. Mom’s father owned a small country store and so they would get to eat outdated food. She shares that they were one of the lucky ones, because they would get to eat meat. She also shares of standing in line for a cup of sugar and birthday cakes that lacked it.
Dad lost a brother. The story of Curtis is a sad one. At a young age, Curtis took a fall off a horse, which resulted in cancer. It took a huge toll on the family and to this day, Dad talks about the loss with sadness. He was a sweet boy who loved the Lord with all his heart, and his siblings adored him. Mom lost her home. When the ’47 fires ripped through the state, Mom tells of the story of how they had to decide what to keep, the lumber mill or the house and small store. They chose the mill, because that was what generated most of their income. It was so traumatic, that my grandmother had a breakdown and had to be hospitalized. Dad endured terrible headaches and verbal abuse. Mom lost her dear father while in college. Dad lost 2 sisters, one to cancer and the other, to a horrific farming accident. Mom lost 2 sisters, one to brain cancer, and the other to Lewy Body Dementia.
Life is hard. Divorce, financial hardship, death and illness take a toll on the family and has a trickle down effect on the rest of the family. My parents will never be the same because of what they have endured. But for me, it gives me hope, and strength, because their stories help me to build mine. Their wisdom, strength, endurance, and character help me to straighten my back and give guidance to my sweet babies.
I remember when I was preparing to give birth to my first child, my mother told me that it would be hard, that they call it LABOR for a reason, but to remember that many women had gone before me and lived through it. I thought about that while enduring the pains of childbirth and it gave me courage and power.
I’d like to think that my strength and determination comes from my folks- especially Mom. I have watched her cry into the dishwater, watching each tear splash. I’ve watched her square her jaw and bite her tongue when she could have, and had every right to, speak up. I’ve also watched her stand up straight and tall, quoting my grandmother after the loss of my grandfather, “I’ve got — more years to live and I’m going to live them.”
Life is tough and I’m so glad that I have this powerful example to draw from. My mother is a worker and a fighter and everything I want to emulate. She has deep faith and loves the Lord with everything she has. She has often said with sadness that she doesn’t feel that she has a gift or a mission field. But I’m here to say that she does. This woman, the one who allowed horses to walk through the house, goats to snuggle and watch TV with us, nursed sick calves by the woodstove, patted family pets until their final breath, has got one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. Wise, compassionate, kind, and devoted, I could not have asked for a better mother.
As a child, I remember my mother rubbing my sore legs, waking from nightmares in her arms, encouraging me through difficult classes, and listening to me practice the same song over and over again as I prepared for music camp tryouts. My mom has been my cheerleader and my confidant, and the one I can always count on for good sound advice. I have been so blessed.
So when life gets hard. I square up my Hughey jaw, push back my shoulders, pull up my boot straps, and put my chin up. I crack open my roadmap and lean into my sweet Savior.
So, on this 9th year Anniversary of one of the most difficult days in our marriage journey, I’d like to say that I’m “mostly good” and putting one foot in front of the other, just like those who went before me. I had good examples from which I get my strength.
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