Seeing this picture in the middle of a day full of conflict made me smile. My dad! Fishing! It definitely made me stop and thank God for the wonderful care he receiving at Waterford. Even though I wish I could be there with him, I know that they are taking care of him in a variety of ways.

This picture, taken at the end of July, reminds me of so many things. The masks point to the pandemic. What will we say about these masks in 20 years? Will we still be wearing them? We are grateful for outside visits, but it reminds me of the ongoing restriction to enter residents’ rooms. Michigan winters are not kind.

Despite these uncertainties, I am grateful for the loving care provided by the Waterford staff.

It was refreshing seeing my father yesterday. He was doing well and looked great.

The week, filled with challenges related to COVID-19, seemed overwhelming at times which is why this visit came at such a good time. He wasn’t too skinny, was able to converse well, and seemed to hear better. The weather was perfect for an outside visit. The flowers seemed to welcome us and remind us that better days are coming.

Thank you, God, for providing good things and reminding us of your faithfulness.

A birthday invoice

It came on my brother’s birthday, a reminder of what happened one year ago. The memories keep returning– decluttering my parents’ condo and receiving the knock on the door, transferring my mother to Metro, her surgery, the night in the hospital with my father, another move to Freedom Village, and then her eventual passing in September.

It was strange receiving the invoice for the memorial on his birthday. I didn’t send him a text until the day after, asking about the payment.

The month of July will probably always be a strange month while thinking about my mother’s fall, but the first year is probably the hardest. The memories seem to fill my mind at different parts of the day.

Now today, my father is living at the same facility where she passed- Waterford. COVID-19 prevents visitors inside the building. He frequently Facetimes with us which is a blessing. His hearing is better. These are blessings.

The journey is different now. We are here in Indiana, dealing with COVID-19 school challenges. He is there, dealing with loneliness and emotions over being without his dear wife. Through it all, God is our comfort and peace. We cling to this truth and know He is always faithful. The Lord is with you mighty warrior.

Looking around our yard gives me a feeling of peace. The hosta plants are now blooming with their familiar purple flower. The variation of the hostas is a pleasure to view. The hydrangeas, although rather heavy with flowers, are an easy way to bless someone’s day.

Surrounded by a variety of plants inside and out reminds me of God’s constant provision and faithfulness. He provides growth and change for plants and will do the same for us.

Isaiah 40:31 “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Art always give me a sense of peace. This newest piece, bought from an artist on Etsy, provides a different message every time I glance its way. Sometimes, I think about how different paths intersect. Other times, I think about how everyone is different but many have the same goal. This circular design is filled with recycled magazines which offers a totally different message again.

Decisions are like this art as well. Sometimes, one needs to produce various templates, documents, and pathways to end at the final point.

We need more art in this challenging world.

The move seemed like the best answer to my father’s situation. Royal Park served him well, but we wanted a different environment where he would thrive. Waterford seemed like the perfect answer, but is it?

As soon as he entered his new room and sat in the leather chair, the comments came flying like darts. “Where is my chair? This room is cold. I feel forsaken. Why did you bring me here? I had no say in any of this. What about my clothes? There is NO way they will fit in this small closet.” It went on and on.

I quickly told Mitch to get his chair back and enlisted my brother’s help with the tirade of complaining and grumbling. At one point, I became angry and told him to stop grumbling. It was a mixture of compassion and irritation while completing the task of rearranging clothing and other items.

Interestingly, my dad’s demeanor changed when my brother returned. For some reason, my dad’s emotions are only shared with me.

The day ended with us leaving, although I must admit that I didn’t feel very compassionate. I know I should have, though.

It is not easy to move or change environments. We long for routine and normalcy. We don’t feel like being flexible, even though flexibility can provide new opportunities. It’s all very difficult, but we still need to find gratitude in the midst of it all.

I am grateful for the move and hope it provides new opportunities for him as his journey continues.

Preparing for my father’s move to Waterford seems simple. The furniture is mostly provided with the exception of a side table for his cups, medicines, and reading materials. The decor is beautiful, so there is no need to recreate a loving atmosphere. The people already know him since it is the same place as last summer.

The biggest challenge is COVID-19. To make it work, we will be dividing the moving tasks. One person will be at the first facility– completing a temperature check, wearing a mask and gloves– while the other person will take my father to Waterford and prepare the room there.

I hope it all works out, but why is my heart racing?

Perhaps it is because of all the other preparations taking place around here.

“The Lord is with you mighty warrior.”

The email popped in my inbox:

We received confirmation that Waterford Place will admit my dad in on Thursday, June 18. So this will bring an end to my dad’s time at the Atrium

It’s hard to put into words when I think about moving my father another time.

Reminders of last summer flood my mind as I remember driving him back and forth to Freedom Village every day, moving him for a temporary stay at Waterford, and then moving him to the Atrium. So many moves!

Now, during COVID-19, he will be experiencing another move to Waterford. It should be a place he remembers, but he claims he doesn’t remember any of it. His room will be located in a different wing than where my mother and he lived.

I am thankful for Waterford because of the SAIDO training he will receive five times per week, but I feel a sense of sadness that I will not be in Michigan to be a part of it. I could be his SAIDO trainer since I received the training.

This is where it gets really hard. Hearing God’s calling, acting upon it, and then coming to grips with the reality that sacrifices abound. Time, relationships, family—if I think about it too long, it’s just too much.

At times like these, I need to read again, Judges 6. God’s perfect peace covers all fears. He is Jehovah- Jireh, our great provider. Why do I think I am the only one who can take care of my father? Why do I think there will not be a way to see him when he is at Waterford and I live in Indiana? He is our provider and will take care of all our needs as this journey continues.

Trees

BY JOYCE KILMER

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

It seemed fitting– the purchase of a new tree on Memorial Day. As I pondered our activities for the first summer holiday, the poem about a tree came to mind and reminded me of my mother. Whenever a person passed away, she always quoted this poem and how planting a tree would be a good memory.

I remembered her advice on several occasions. When a mother of a student passed away, we collected money and purchased a tree for the school property. When conversing with a friend on how distance from a burial site makes it difficult on Memorial Day, I recommended that she purchase a tree and plant it on her property.

Deciding upon a purchase of a tree takes more time than one would think. Where do you put it? What kind? Where do we purchase a tree? How do we transport it home? When should we plant it once it arrives?

We decided upon the tulip tree for two reasons; my mom always liked tulips and it’s the Indiana state tree so it should grow well.

The next step is to place something as a reminder. An engraved stone? A plaque? I don’t know yet, but I feel grateful that we could plant a tree on the first summer holiday after her passing.