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Signs of hope

It came while I was videotaping Smore Spot for one of the first graders at Dutton. Silence and then the voice of my father. “Michelle! It’s Dad. I am so sorry. How can you forgive me? I know I did something really bad, but I can’t remember what it was. I don’t know how anyone could forgive me.” He rambled on, without give me a chance to respond at first.

He was referring to inappropriate comments he made to various people. The comments are too awful to repeat, but they will forever leave a hole of sadness. As we continue to reflect upon his medical and emotional condition, we realize that dementia can cause people to do crazy and evil things. We also realize that he definitely has dementia and know that he should be at Waterford, the same facility where my mother resided. At this point, they do not have any openings for new residents.

Knowing that he needed to hear me say words of affirmation, I lowered my voice tone so it sounded more like a male’s. It seemed to work and he responded with gratefulness, relieved that I forgave him. I reminded him of the cross and the hope we have in Him, but I don’t know if he heard that part. The conversation ended, but my walk in Wexford Woods continued.

Burnett’s Creek weaves its way throughout Wexford Woods. It is a place of peace during turbulent times.

Our Michigan church, Caledonia CRC, organized a prayer vigil for today. People signed up for a spot and committed to a thirty minute time of prayer for the coronavirus. I sat on the green bench, located near Burnett’s Creek. Waves of sadness for the people of New York City, our economy, and the many people who are suffering entered my thoughts as I fervently prayed. “God, please take this away. Wash our world like the waters of the creek wash the pebbled stones.”

As I walked on the paths, I observed signs of spring. Tree buds are opening, flowers are appearing, and the birds were singing. He is here, our eternal hope, as the journey continues.

Letter writing

It’s hard to articulate what it’s like to email my father without a response. After I sent it, the director emailed back and said she would deliver it sometime during the day, but I don’t want her to feel like she has to respond to me. I know she is busy with so many matters and don’t want to be a burden. But yet.. I wonder. What does he say when they deliver the letter? How many times does he read it? Is he asking them to write back?

It’s interesting to observe how people are resorting to letter writing again during the virus. A very creative teacher started a Snail Mail movement, as she termed it. I applaud her creativity and feel inspired by it. Another friend on Facebook asked for people to mail letters to a person I taught with in northern Michigan. My cousin posted her mother’s address and asked people to send cards since she is deaf and is restricted from visitors. It reminds me of the importance of teaching letter writing to students!

While at Dutton, the first graders became penpals with first graders at Lafayette Christian. I usually placed the received letters on their desks while they were learning in a different classroom. You would have thought they received gold! Students either kept them in a folder or took them home. No recycling of these precious papers!

Whatever the form- texting, emailing, phoning, or Snail Mail– we need to stay connected!

A letter to brighten your day!

This will always be my favorite letter to my mother.

My brother has been urging me to try a different way of phone calling. Instead of me talking to my father, he has suggested that Mitch calls because his voice is a different tone. I haven’t done it yet, mainly because I feel it will be incredibly frustrating much like my phone call to him last week.

“What did you say?” he would inquire. I would repeat the question, shouting at the top of my lungs. The funniest comment was when he said, “Well, I don’t know what you are saying, but maybe you are telling me that you are having a baby. Now that WOULD be something!” We ended the conversation by saying goodbye, but I didn’t know if he even understood that part.

Letter writing seems easier, although he doesn’t write back. I wrote an email and my brother printed it off and dropped it off at the facility. My brother, always looking for better solutions, emailed the director who happily agreed to print off any letters and deliver to my father. The new system will take place tomorrow, March 24.

In this crazy coronavirus era, I am grateful for technology and how it connects us to families and friends.

Grateful

As our nation hunkers down for an unknown period, we need to remind ourselves to choose joy. One of the best ways is to create a list of items. I have seen Facebook posts where people encourage others complete one so here is mine:

I am grateful that our family is together during this time. If this had not happened, we would be separated. Mitch would be traveling back and forth as he has been doing this entire sabbatical. Caden would be living in the dorms. Chloe is still living in her apartment, but we would not see her as often. Last night, we played a game of Scrabble which is not something we usually do!

I am grateful for our Indiana home. I love being in Michigan, but Wexford Woods provides a way to get outside and enjoy nature. Burnett’s Creek is incredible!

We have technology. Church is online, but I love it! I am listening to a podcast by Rick Warren called Daily Hope. It is incredibly encouraging! I have been able to chat with my aunt via Facebook to learn more about my grandparents and also slip in Biblical truths. She is not a believer.

We had a huge fire yesterday where we listened to Kenny Rogers music and were basically quite silly. Our entire family enjoyed this craziness, along with Elly, Caden’s girlfriend.

I am sure this list could increase as this journey continues. It definitely is one worth remembering.

Burning up the virus!

Decisions

The craziness of the coronavirus is forcing us to make decisions we aren’t quite ready to face. What will Corey do next year? Should we move out of the rental earlier because we don’t know if the borders will be shut down? Will Corey live with another family next year so he can continue at South? In the end, we decided to head back to Michigan and gather necessary items but wait to decide about an early move. It’s hard to know if Michigan schools will resume in April or May. Indiana schools are closed until May. Will Michigan follow? How long will the virus last?

Before we left for Michigan, I received a request from one of the first grade parents. “Is it possible for you to videotape yourself teaching the Bible memory verse? I am not quite sure how you taught it in class and neither is Travis.” I practically jumped out of my chair and prepared my script. Caden used my phone to videotape my crazy Easter chant. Our property provided the perfect background to share the Easter story.

While packing up the rental yesterday, I forced myself to swallow tears. Memories of times with friends, the students at the various schools, visits to Royal Park and Waterford, and our frequent beach visits kept coming to mind. I consoled myself with the word temporary. One can do anything temporarily, right? We hurriedly packed up the plants, some clothing, and food.

As we passed the Zeeland exit, it was difficult not to stop. Could we stop and create some kind of outside greeting to my father and the residents? It didn’t seem possible at the time, so we continued the drive. Instead, I phoned Royal Park. The nurse brought the phone to Dad’s room and asked him questions. “I’m dizzy, ” he answered to her questions.

Our time in Michigan will end at some point, my father’s health will continue to deteriorate, but one thing remains– He is the victory over all. Matthew 28 reminds me of the news– He has risen!

This is what I used to help the first grader understand the Easter story. It’s not quite the same, but it works!

History lessons

Mark Twain said, “History does not repeat itself but it does rhyme”. I think of this quote as I have been rereading my father’s stories where he chronicles his life during the war. During the years, 1930s-40s, he describes a variety of situations. A few weeks ago, we asked him about the cabbage story.

One of his relatives decided to plant an unbelievable amount of cabbage. Neighbors mocked and joked about the cabbage garden, but in the end, it was a resource my grandmother used to help feed those in need during those moments when food was scarce.

In another story, he shared how many Dutch farmers opened their doors for room and board in exchange for farm labor. The Battle of the Rhine caused many to evacuate, so my grandparents opened up their farm home to strangers. At one point, around thirty-five people were living in their home.

One of the best parts of Chloe’s trip to Ireland was a trip to the Netherlands where she visited this home. The people living there eagerly invited her inside where she walked through the areas where her great- grandmother lived and showed hospitality to so many in time of need.

I cannot help but muse over these stories in midst of the coronavirus. What does God want us to do right now? Does He want us to prepare our home like my grandmother and be ready to help those in need? Definitely. We are called to be His servants in any journey and at any time.

A journey not anticipated!

Thursday night seemed to mark the start for so many changes. ” The governor is closing all the Michigan schools due to the coronavirus, ” Corey announced. Mitch and I scrambled to make changes. I was already planning on heading to Indiana for medical appointments the next day, but this announcement meant that I needed to clean out the classroom in case I would not be back in Michigan. It was strange entering the classroom and knowing I would not be able to say goodbye to the students. We made the decision to leave the rental temporarily since all doors were closing- church, Royal Park, and school. Additional changes included Caden moving back home, and a cancellation of a spring break trip. Chloe is staying in her apartment for now.

I think the hardest part is thinking about my father without visitors. I know how much he appreciates visits and comments on it often. I think about his friend Ellsworth, now in a different facility due to a fall. How will my father cope with this new change? I phone Royal Park almost daily, but I know they are so busy trying to keep the residents healthy. I wish they would have one person solely devoted to answering phones and giving updates, but I know it is not possible. My brother is taking care of part of the challenge by printing off my letters and bringing them to Royal Park. As soon as he drives up, an employee comes outside to collect the mail. I also tried to phone my father. He did answer but because of his deafness, he could not hear and the conversation frustrated both of us.

In addition, my father’s health seems more frail than ever. The aides have reported that he lacks energy and describe him as a rag doll. He rings the call button constantly. He was admitted to the ER last weekend because of vomiting and then released. I could not be at the hospital because of the virus.

While shopping for food, I met a friend who shared wisdom I don’t want to forget. He showed me his hands and said, “These hands will only hold so much. God’s hands are bigger and will take care of it. I can rest knowing that fact.” It is a comment I will remember as this journey continues. God is faithful despite the circumstances.

“These hands will only hold so much. God’s hands are bigger and will take care of it. I can rest knowing that fact.”

Eerily familiar

The familiar scene seems to be on the repeat button- more frequent comments from aides, weight loss, my father’s hands holding up his head, the constant reminders to eat, and my brother’s optimism despite the reality.

A text from the nurse made me shake my head. ” he was very unstable on his feet, so we took the wheelchair to breakfast. He was at breakfast no longer than 5 minutes and rang to go back to his room, stating he was too tired. He was up to around 133 pounds but today was at 128.”

How do you get someone to eat? It is the same question I wrestled with while my mother was at Waterford. It’s the same question educators deal with every day! Students throw an unbelievable amount of food away, stating they don’t like it, didn’t want it, or some other reason. In the end, the person has to do it for himself and that is what my father needs to do right now.

Even though this latest episode could bring me down, I refuse to let it and had a blast this past weekend. Seeing Rend Collective in concert and shop-hopping on the Goodwill bus reminded me again that life continues despite the sadness. I don’t want to wallow in worry, even though it is hard. The journey must continue with its ups and downs. Pictures of the concert and the Goodwill Shop/ Hop bus are coming next!

Taking a risk

I had my doubts, but taking a risk seemed worthwhile. After all, it couldn’t hurt anything. If anything, it would make his life better, right? My father’s cochlear implant took place last Wednesday. His post- surgery recovery has been challenging. He is quite nauseated at times and lacks energy.

Today was a hard day. ” I feel that the end is near,” he told me. ” Pray for me”, he said, causing my eyes to blur with tears. “Don’t say that, Dad!” I pled. “I’m so tired, ” he kept saying. The aide reassured me that elderly people often experience tired spells, but why do I feel that my father knows?

The afternoon scene reminded me of my mother’s last days. He isn’t eating, so I sat at the dinner table, urging him to take a bite. My efforts were useless, so I wheeled him back to his room where he hobbled to his recliner. The aide told me that mobility is more challenging. I remembered the nurse’s words, “If he is not able to move, we will not be able to take care of him here and he will need to move to a skilled nursing home.”

Ellsworth, his faithful friend, fell on Monday and is now in the hospital. After visiting my father, I decided to stop by for a visit. Seeing him dressed in a hospital gown caused my emotions to overflow. I stepped outside, trying to control them. Ellsworth’s son, Dave, gave me a tissue box and I somehow managed to walk back into the room where we spent time visiting. I didn’t stay long.

Twelve days remain of the long term sub position. What will those twelve days bring? Will the school need a sub for the sub because I need to take care of my father? Can I make it through parent- teacher conferences? Will we regret the decision of a cochlear implant?? Time will tell as the journey continues.