Author: chelleren

Waves of grief assailed me and I could not sleep. The nurse’s words explaining the need for morphine kept coming back to me. Morphine, used to help people ease into death, will be used on the advice of the hospice nurse. Is it really the end?

I chide myself at times for these moments when I cannot keep from crying and try to rationalize everything. My mother will be turning 89 next month. She has lived a good life. I try to think about those who have lost children or teens. I don’t have a right to cry like this when parents I know are mourning the loss of their son, tragically killed in an accident. So many people I know bury family members. This is all true, but it still hurts so badly.

I wonder what will happen tomorrow when I head to Waterford. What will my father be like? Will she be able to get to lunch still? Will I be able to play the piano for her again?

Selfishly, I want the morphine to allow more time so I can work on getting her to eat again. I want another meal where I am cheering her on, encouraging another bite. But… it’s not my decision. This is the moment when I remind myself of the sovereignty of God. The King of the World decides our moments and days.

Checking his watch, my dad announced to no one in particular, ” It’s almost time to eat.” We waited patiently for the aides to place Mom in her wheelchair and then slowly walked to the dining area. Some arrive an hour before the meal is served. The aide accidentally placed my mother in another resident’s spot. He angrily demanded that his spot was returned to him, the rightful owner. “It doesn’t matter,” I directed the aide. “She can move to another table”. Some things aren’t worth the fuss. I distracted the angry resident by asking him about his shirt that featured the National Asparagus Festival. Similar to the classroom, distracting an angry person usually works.

For some reason, I always seem to arrive around eating time, but I am grateful for the opportunity to encourage my mom’s eating. Her weight has been fluctuating around 63-65 pounds. Today, I decided to make it a contest. I took a photo of the food and cheerily announced that we were going to have a contest to see if she could eat all three bowls. ” Our goal, Mom, is to see if the photo I take at the end of the meal will look different.” Her expression seemed to say, “Make me”. It reminded me of times when my kids needed to eat their vegetables and desired ice cream instead. Determined, I pressed onward. When she pushed the food away, I kept spoon- feeding her. At times, she looked at me angrily and pushed my arm, indicating her displeasure. I persisted. My father joined the effort by using words of encouragement. It was like we were food cheerleaders. Despite her unwillingness, she managed to finish some of the food.

Aides complete the task of feeding and and serving patients three times a day. They cheer when patients like my mother gain weight. They feel a sense of disappointment when the weight decreases. They are heroes and deserve recognition for a thankless task.

We ended the meal by walking over to the piano where I played some hymns for the listening ears of my parents and others. Unfortunately, the C note still needs tuning! I will return again tomorrow to see I can encourage them again as the journey continues…..

“Hi! We are related!” This friendly welcome came from one of Mitch’s cousins I had never met. A fun conversation continued as she relayed how exactly we were related as we sat watching the Sailors play soccer. It turns out that her son plays on Corey’s soccer team. Some may comment “small world!”, but a more common phrase around here is Dutch Bingo.

Dutch Bingo, termed for how you connect with people based on family or any kind of Dutch connection, is what we played days later as Lauren came over for coffee and tasty treats after kids started the first day of school. Mitch, Lauren, and I sat at the kitchen table, reminiscing about Great Gram Tuinstra, a fun grandma never forgotten.

Another part of the connection included parents with dementia. Lauren’s stories of a mom with dementia reminded me of my own mother and others who deal with a constant of confusion. I could relate to her description of her mom’s eyes, glazed at times when asked questions. Additionally, I found myself connecting to her description of shortened and lack of speech. I thought about my own mother’s definite changing speech patterns over the summer.

Our Dutch Bingo coffee time also included looking at the Tuinstra cookbook, a compilation of recipes and pictures from the large Tuinstra family. We agreed that a family cookbook is a wonderful way to connect families together, learn about family history, and converse with others about family incidents. The most notable one captured our attention. Henry and Jennie Tuinstra, the great grandparents, experienced loss of their thirteen year old child who was struck by lightning while sitting by a window.

As Lauren left 1891, I couldn’t help but hope that Dutch Bingo will continue. More coffee and more tasty treats need to be included as this journey continues.

The soccer season, well underway, continued on Saturday with a tournament in Kalamazoo. Under sunny skies and perfect temperatures, the Sailors, along with other area teams, competed in three games with the goal of achieving the highest score determined by a point system. A win equaled three points, regulation goal gave a team one point, and a regulation shutout earned 1 point with a maximum of three points per game.

Traveling in a motor coach, provided by team member’s family, and a team meal added to the excitement of the day. Family members cheered the team from the sidelines as the Sailors won all three games. Hurray!

The paragraph on the back of the green informational sheet handed out at the gate caught my eye. The annual David Ni Westside Shootout, Hackett Catholic Prep’s pre-season soccer tournament, is named in honor of a Hackett student who tragically died on Lake Michigan the summer before his senior year. Although he is no longer with us, he remains in our hearts and memories. It continues by describing a young man who sounded similar to Cole. At the end, they included the following; Through our annual event, we make a small gesture in honoring this young man who brought to life so many of values that we pursue and strive to uphold at Hackett Catholic Prep. It included the memorial site and lists the date of his death, July 4, 2006.

Although it was exciting to see the Sailors win, it filled me with gratefulness to see the teams playing in a tournament honoring the memory of a young person who left this game thirteen years ago. These teams, even though they may not have read the paragraph, were honoring the someone who, selflessly played defense when his real passion was being a striker up front. CU19 came to mind again and I resolved again- never forget.

Brown paw-prints dotted the bottom of the tub. The soap bar, once whole, lay sprinkled on the white porcelain like ice cream toppings. It didn’t take a detective to know the culprit.

Kenai’s strange attraction to soap bars isn’t the only behavior I observe in our young Labrador. She recently chewed through the MI State leash, broke out of her cage, and howls at unknown sounds. Moving a dog from an area where she can run free to a space where she needs a leash on a daily basis is a definite change and probably is why she exhibits these mannerisms.

Anybody who moves will deal with new situations, requirements, and challenges. Our 2005 sabbatical included a variety of challenges, specifically with transportation. The decision not to use a car meant that public transportation and bicycles provided the way to see the country. “Op de fiets”, we often chanted, translated “on the bikes”. Sometimes, arriving at the destination seemed worthy of a celebration after using bikes, then bus, and finally the train, all with three young children.Phew!

My father, now living with my mother at Waterford, is dealing with a new menu, people, and activities. He frequently comments on the food, chosen by the nurses. ” At Royal Park, we chose our own food,” he lamented. Since that comment, the nursing staff is working on making sure he can choose his own menu. He also commented on lack of activities, but that was in the first few days. Since then, he started exercise class and visited the zoo with other residents.

All of it just takes time. Once realized, a move can be beneficial and enhance life, provide new opportunities, and allow new friendships.

“Do you mind if I play the piano for my mother?” I asked the nurse. “Not at all,” she replied.

I wheeled my mother away from the lunch table and sat down to play some familiar hymns. My mother, still sitting in her wheel chair, closed her eyes to sleep.

Much to my surprise, other residents soon joined us. Some merely listened and others sang along. Some commented on the songs and recounted times when music played an important role in their lives.

Despite the problematic C key that needs some maintenance, I played hymns like “How Great Thou Art”, “Jesus Loves Me” and others. My favorite part was when a male resident walked over and started singing along with “It is Well”. His bass voice rang out with assurance. “Are we singing all the verses?” he asked.

While playing the familiar hymns and listening to the residents sing, I couldn’t help but smile and feel a sense of happiness. It really was a small thing, but I felt content, knowing that I contributed a little bit of music for these people who struggle to converse with others and constantly deal with a confused mind.

As Hans Christian Andersen says, ” Where words fail, music speaks.” 

Certain words have more appeal than others. One of my favorites, flummoxed, is one I often use on my high school nephew. ” Oh no. More SAT words”, he will respond. I try to make it a point to use it on him, just to get a reaction.

Some phrases definitely catch attention more than others as well. Certain Michigan phrases like “smitten with the mitten” and “feel the Zeel” indicate the love Michiganders have for the state.

However, I think the word hospice is in a league all of its own. It usually generates the same response with most: emotion, averted eyes, and sympathetic words. It signifies an end for many, even though medical professionals will point out that it doesn’t always mean that the end is near. ” I have seen many live 1-2 years longer when hospice is called”, they insist. I have my doubts.

My brother’s words, “They recommended hospice” caused me to openly weep. These unexpected words, shared a few weeks ago, are ones I can barely utter. I think I have been denying reality. Is my mother really at the end of her life?

It’s difficult not to think back to July 10, when she fell at Royal Park. What if I had gone back to check on her instead of continuing my decluttering project in their condo? Would she and my father still be at Royal Park? She never wanted to use her walker. Should we have done a better job of convincing her? The staff at Royal Park described the way she would hang on to my father instead of using a walker, but I just nodded my head and agreed.

I don’t really know how hospice works and will find out on Thursday when we meet with the representatives. Until that time, we wait and wonder as the journey continues.

The memory, etched in my mind, is one I won’t forget. The text, too unbelievable to process, caused me sit down. “Cole was killed in a car accident tonight” it read. “No! No! NO!” I texted back. Sadly, though, it was true. A soccer player, friend, and a former student of mine left this life nine months ago.

As I watched the ball kicked on the field today, I reminded myself what a gift it is to watch your child play a sport because I don’t always view it that way. The mad dashes to the store for soccer equipment and drinks leave me irritated, I feel like gagging when the smell of stinky cleats fills the house, and I never feel quite prepared enough to sit in the stands. Today, I should have had my water bottle as we sat in the hot sunshine. But soon, the cleats will be donated, the socks thrown away, and I won’t need to purchase large quantities of sports drinks. The gift will end.

Cole, a highly skilled soccer player, will always be a part of our family’s memories. I marveled at his skills and wondered what kind of food he ate to produce his energy. He could really kick! In his younger days, I remember the times when he sometimes fell down and his dad, a coach and ref, would say, “Get up, Cole. You’re okay.” During the games, I sometimes sat by his mom , an avid encourager and soccer enthusiast. Tears pour down my cheeks when I think how his parents wish they could have one more season to embrace, one more season of smelly cleats, and one more season of high-fives. The gift ended too soon.

Even though I never played soccer in high school and don’t know all the rules perfectly, I will definitely be coaching Corey in the area of persistence, focus, and leadership. Phrases like ” Stay positive, Corey” or ” Think of this as a learning opportunity” are ones I used in the past. Now, however, I will be using a new one: CU19. Think of Cole, Corey, and play with all your might. Remember him as you encourage others to play their best, too.

Rain changed into sunshine by the end of the day as we moved my parents into Waterford ,symbolizing our changing emotions. My father, overwhelmed by my questions on what he wanted at Waterford, seemed to settle down once he sat in the new leather recliner facing the television. My mother, more awake at times, didn’t seem to mind being moved whether it was recliner, wheelchair, or ambu- cab. Despite my inner fears that she would pass away in route to Waterford, we entered Waterford to find her with the director, sitting in the wheelchair.

In many ways, the move could be compared to college students moving into the dorms. Paperwork, boxes, suitcases filled with clothing, photos, a plant, small table, and toiletries filled my van. Using a cart, I hauled the items into their rooms while they rested. I set up their photos, asked the maintenance man to hang pictures, and placed their toiletries in the bathrooms.

While relaxing in his recliner, my father glanced around the rooms. One room, called a sitting area, includes two recliners, his computer and desk, television, dresser, and closet. In the adjoining room, he could see two twin beds. Immediately, he commented on the fact that they were separate. ” Remember, Dad, the nurses need to get on both sides of the beds to help Mom in the night. This is the best arrangement for her.” He nodded, but I knew he preferred a double bed where they could be right next to each other.

Organizing the OTC meds, or over-the-counter medications, seemed more overwhelming than any other part of the move. Because my parents always took the caps off all medications, prior to the move, I placed them in labeled ziplock baggies. Upon arrival, I discussed each baggy with the medical technician, authorized to dispense. All OTC meds, including items like stomachache relievers, need a doctor’s order to dispense. The medical technician, a little taken aback by the amount of OTC meds, used a laundry basket to transport them back to the nurses’ station where they are kept. One may wonder why I brought them, but reducing pharmacy expenses is important.

As the day continued, a receptionist’s parting words, “Don’t you wish we could just sneak a peek into the future?’ lingered in my mind . How is this all going to end? How will she adapt to Waterford? What about my father? Will he continue to sit in the recliner instead of taking part in the many activities offered? Will he remain at Waterford if my mom passes away or head back to Royal Park?

As I continued to ponder her words, I reminded myself that I can sneak a peek. I can sneak daily peeks into God’s Word and remind myself of His faithfulness to His people like Ruth, David, and countless others. I can reread the ways God provided for His people in the desert and parted the Red Sea. THE RED SEA!

I don’t know how this will all end, but God knows. He is sovereign in all His ways and one of my favorite Christian artists, Natalie Grant, reminds me of this in the lyrics of her song, King of the World. ” When did I forget that you’ve always been the King of the World?”

The words, “This will be a pivotal year” caused me to stop and reflect during those beginning days of the 2018-2019 school year. I knew God was speaking. But what did it mean?

The words proved true as I witnessed staff changes within the school, our middle son, a senior in high school deciding upon a college, our daughter changing her education focus from being a dietician to a physician’s assistant, and then our decision to head to Michigan for the year.

Several locations, besides Michigan, took center stage as we discussed a move. Nottingham, England filled us with excitement until we thought about Corey’s schooling and the challenges with a European transcript. The thought of researching overseas schools seemed overwhelming. California was another option, but Mitch’s research projects would involve him traveling back to Purdue at certain times. The technical definition of his job status is change of duty and not sabbatical, even though it somewhat is similar.

East Lansing seemed the best option, but it also presented challenges. The housing market proved to be difficult, the teaching position I interviewed for was given to another person, and for some reason, we didn’t feel a strong connection to the city.

Grand Rapids, a familiar place with a variety of options, seemed better, but the housing and schooling caused us to wonder if this journey was even going to occur. Despite my hope that we would find a wonderful little home within our budget, every door seemed to close. In the middle of these decisions, we learned that the Michigan High School Athletic Association requires transfer students who attend a non-public school to live within the area of the school. I found myself typing in addresses to learn if homes we contemplated purchasing fit the requirements. We ended up at 1891, a mere four minutes from Corey’s high school of choice.

Witnessing my aging parents validated these decisions. While communicating with friends and acquaintances, the frequent comment is how blessed I am to be able to be in Michigan to help care for their needs, give my brother a much-needed break, and encourage them as they deal with health issues. As Esther 4:14 says, “And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”