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How does one acquire the skill of patience? I suppose that life’s experiences will force a person to become more patient. Seasons of life, different activities, and people will force someone to be more patient. I would also add the care of animals will expand your patience.

While taking care of Juneau, the dog, I found myself reflecting upon patience as a caregiver. I remember the times when I did not feel patient with my father and still don’t today. I find myself thinking: How many times will he tell me that he is lonely? I inwardly reprimand myself and know it’s another example of my lack of patience.

One of the first steps in caregiving is recognizing that some character traits are lacking and then working to change. I recognize that patience is not always my best character trait and need to work on this. But how? One way to become more patient is to read stories about others who did exhibit patience. I think that anyone who lived through a war has to exhibit patience. Not knowing when a war will end has to test one’s patience level. Dealing with uncertainties must be a challenge.

Another way to increase your patience level is to deliberately test yourself in new areas. Taking care of a young dog is a perfect example! There were days when I felt my stress level go up simply because of an animal! At those times, it helped to describe the feelings to another person. My friend shared similar experiences, and we ended up laughing hysterically since puppies can be so silly.

Caregiving for an elderly person is similar. Anyone who takes care of an older person on a regular basis needs patience but also needs help from others to develop patience if it’s a struggle. Perhaps it means creating a bigger support system. Maybe more breaks are part of the equation. Talking to other caregivers helps remind that others are also in the same situation. Attending a support class is yet another idea.

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s quote, Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience, prompts more thoughts. God’s handiwork gives all kinds of lessons. Studying nature reminds of the ways we must be patient. I almost threw away a rose plant, but a rose started blooming! I had just about given up on this plant.

As I look ahead to a new caregiving role, taking care of Julia, I am thankful for the reminders to be patient and will work on strengthening my lack of it. After all, life is a journey filled with twists and turns every step of the way.

In a previous post, I shared about caregiving. In the post, I outlined a possible class focusing on the different components of caregiving. I need to add another session and title it, ” Animal Caregiving Connections”.

The exciting arrival of our new granddaughter, Julia Penelope, means we are on dog duty for an undetermined amount of time. Our official duties began when the parents-to-be transferred the pets to our van at the hospital. Meowing and whining sounds filled the van. I am convinced that animals also get homesick.

Not pleased to be moved to a new location, the cat hissed at me upon its placement in the office. I decided to treat it like a sullen child and leave it alone. It often attempted little escapes throughout its stay to other parts of the house, but we would not allow it to freely roam.

While taking Juneau, the young Irish Setter, on frequent hikes in the forest, I thought about our pastor’s recent sermon on animals. Since a specific creature decided to tear up my notes, I asked him to resend them. One point was that God created animals to allow us to marvel at His creation. I do marvel at these pets and how God created them so differently. I find myself appreciating our own dog, mature and obedient, in different ways now. Juneau even talks back to me! I do not marvel at this at all!

While taking care of these animals, I found myself thinking about Noah. How in the world did he and his family take care of all those animals without becoming irritated and wanting to escape to an animal-free location? I reread Genesis 7 to see if there were any hints of irritation or annoyance. Nothing. I only have three animals and he had a plethora of all kinds!

As I continue to care for the animals, I also find myself thinking about caregiving for people and how it’s similar. First, you make many sacrifices. At around 9 PM, Juneau starts her “Wild Hour”. She runs around like crazy, makes grunting noises, and often whines. We decided to set the lawn chairs on our driveway and let her get the wildness out. We never set the lawn chairs on our driveway. In fact, I always think it’s strange when people do this. I also cannot get a lot of regular projects done because I am always thinking about the dog and cat. Glancing around, I see piles of unfinished projects waiting to be done. Without going into details, I had to use the carpet cleaner. Sigh. Two household items broke. Another sigh.

Second, consistency is important. After a forest hike, her paws are wet and muddy. I have quickly realized that a consistent pattern of wiping down her paws and fur helps my irritation with a messy house decrease. Along with consistency is a daily schedule. The schedule allows me to get things done. When I take the time for walks and playtime, the dog seems to nap more. Just like a mother of a toddler, I love nap-time!

Third, the power of rewards cannot be ignored. When I use treats, the dog listens better. I use them as a distraction when she is disobedient. I think back to my father’s recovery after my mother died. I constantly used distractions to help him focus and regain a positive perspective.

Last, caregivers need breaks. I am grateful that other family members come and take the dog on walks. The cat, Clover, went home, and the dog will soon leave as well. However, not everyone has the luxury of ending the caregiving role. Some take care of others on a daily basis. I think of those who care for young children or elderly parents. I wonder: what support systems help them? Who listens to times when they need to vent? Who reminds them of the wonderful and sacrificial act of caregiving?

As I anticipate my next caregiving role, taking care of Julia, I wonder: what new lessons will I learn? It will be a new journey but a great one!

The news of a granddaughter prompted me to make the decision to stop teaching. My son will be attending medical school in August so my daughter-in-law needs to work. ” Was it a hard decision?” someone asked. ” I think you’ll be back,” another commented. The other teachers smiled in a knowing way.

I pondered their question and comments for some time. My final answer was no because I feel that it is an honor to take care of her. It’s an opportunity, one that doesn’t come around often. It feels like the right thing to do. Why would I take care of other people’s children all day long when I can take care of a relative?

Driving back from Michigan, I couldn’t help but make comparisons. I received the opportunity to be a caregiver to my parents and now I have the opportunity to take care of a newborn. What joy! Will there be similarities? Differences?

Regardless, the new role will remind me of the beauty of life, the miracle of birth, and the joy of experiencing God’s gifts.

Thinking back to the spring/summer of 2019 brings back a host of memories. Searching for a Michigan home to purchase, then deciding to rent, and finally ending up right near my former childhood home was only part of the adventure. When my mother fell and broke her femur, our lives instantly changed to a schedule of doctor’s visits, hospital stays, and then the funeral. Amidst all of that was my father in denial that she passed.

When I look at him now and hear him say that he doesn’t remember any of it, I can hardly believe it. How can he forget the crazy night in the hospital? How can he forget the funeral? He even says he forgets my mother at times. I pretend I don’t hear those words.

Fast forward to this past week when I drove to Michigan to see him and attend the medical case conference with my brother.

“He’s been sleeping way more”, the aide stated. ” He even was sleeping in the pool”.

We laughed at that statement. How can anyone actually sleep in the pool? We believed them, but it seemed incredulous.

The conference, somewhat similar to educational case conferences, outlined his cognitive, physical, and emotional condition. The recreational therapist shared how he was asked what activity would fill him with the most joy. His answer? Horseback riding. They are searching for a local horse stable to make it happen. ” I better get a notice when that happens,” my brother remarked, chuckling. They assured us and shared how horseback riding takes place with a variety of people, including the elderly.

Taking a different turn, they reviewed his medications and decided that a different anti-depressant could help his mood improve. His constant sleep could indicate that his body is shutting down, though. They were willing to try a different medication but acknowledged that it may or may not work. My brother pointed out that hospice, the next step, was suggested two years ago as well. I appreciated his optimism but remembered how excessive sleepiness could be attributed to the end of life.

After the conference, we brought him outside to encourage him. As always, the topic turned to his sleepiness. ” I am so tired, ” he muttered. ” Hey, Dad! What about writing a poem for your great-granddaughter? In one month, she will be born!”

He perked up and agreed that it would be a good idea. Time will tell if he actually writes it. The journey continues….

Saturday dawned brightly and we headed on the familiar path to Michigan. After a grocery store run where we purchased birthday party food, we entered Waterford to discover my father in his bed, fast asleep.

“Wake up, Dad! It’s a birthday party!” we enthusiastically greeted him. He opened his eyes, smiled a little, and then we proceeded to get him out of his bed with the help of the nurse aide.

” I’m so tired, ” he muttered. ” That’s okay. You will wake up!”I replied.

We wheeled his chair to the reserved room but stopped for a Boost to see if it woke him up. ” Some party, ” I thought to myself but did not utter the words.

We entered the room where we had previously arranged the food. ” Look at all the goodies!” He barely glanced at it.

“Let’s just eat and celebrate,” I announced. ” Maybe he will wake up in a bit.”

My nephew soon joined the luncheon. Despite our best efforts, my father stayed sleeping. After a suggestion from my brother on FaceTime, Mitch walked him outside.

” How can people sleep that much?” I wondered aloud.

A few moments later, Mitch walked back into the room. ” A miracle! He is awake! The raindrops hit his head and woke him up!” We laughed in relief.

The rest of the time, he listened to Psalm 91, conversed with Caden about the upcoming grandchild, and seemed to comprehend the conversation. We ended the celebration with a photo. Another year of God’s goodness and mercy!

Easter, a time of hope and celebration, reminds me of so many wonderful family memories. Unfortunately, my father did not remember any of them. As we gathered together at Waterford, he admitted that he barely remembered my mother. Wow. I showed him a picture of my mother, but he just shook his head. His memory seemed different, so I showed him other pictures of his life. The one I thought would spark a time of reflection included his former church in Lethbridge, Canada. However, he shook his head again.

My thoughts went back to last summer, our trip out West which included a trip across the border.

“Let’s go to your father’s Canadian church tomorrow, ” Mitch suggested on Saturday. I found myself getting excited about the possibilities. ” Yes!” I enthusiastically agreed. Sunday morning found ourselves driving toward Canada. After waiting thirty-six minutes for the office to open, we waited a mere five more minutes to advance to the entrance. Handing out passports and COVID cards seemed easy, but then we learned of AIRCAN. “What’s that?” Mitch inquired. The officer explained that it’s an online app that contains the necessary documents to enter Canada. Suddenly, the trip did not seem too easy. However,, after thirty minutes of scanning documents, entering dates, and verifying information, we were on our way, traveling through Canada, the former country where my father resided.

Unfortunately, due to the border requirements, we ended up arriving late. “Better late than never” is my motto when it comes to church, but walking in late to any event is not my favorite!

Attending a church as a visitor is an interesting experience. This particular visit combined our desire to worship plus a historical perspective. How did my grandparents choose this church? Despite arriving eight minutes late to a packed sanctuary, we located two seats. An older woman smiled at us in a friendly way I appreciated. After the service, an older gentleman greeted us. Surprisingly, he knew my father and his brothers. As more people gathered around and joined in the conversation, we met additional people who knew my father’s family. They even knew the location of the former farmstead. Art, a friendly farmer, walked us around the church and located the contact information for my cousin, a local veterinarian. ” Get a cup of coffee, ” he encouraged. ” Meet the table of white hairs, ” he jokingly added.

We followed him into the fellowship hall where a table of men sat, drinking coffee with smiles. ” Yes, we know Bert! Can we see his picture?” one asked. I quickly located his birthday photo. A few women also gathered around the table. ” I wouldn’t have recognized him, ” another stated. I smiled to myself, thinking that most people don’t recognize friends after so many years. ” How old is he?” another inquired. ” We remember him from youth group, always arguing over theological issues.” Mitch and I grinned, not surprised. ” Let’s get a picture, ” Mitch suggested.

I gathered with these wonderful people, who felt like instant friends because of their association with my father. I felt surprised at their willingness to have a picture taken, an activity my mother always deplored.

Leaving the church, we headed to Lethbridge to locate my grandparent’s gravesites. The cemetery, small and organized by sections, allowed us to locate it quickly. We didn’t have any flowers to add, so we looked at it for a while and then left. What else does one do at a cemetery? We stopped for a quick bite to eat, wanting to head back to the border. Thankfully, the return process proved to be simple. The Montana mountains welcomed us back as we ended our Sunday adventure.

As we ended our Easter Sunday adventure with another trip to Michigan, I felt a sense of gratitude that we took the time to discover a part of my father’s past. Even though he forgot, our experience is one we can share with our families.

Valentine’s Day was one of my mother’s favorite winter celebrations, so a trip to see my father was perfect. However, he doesn’t quite embrace Valentine’s Day in the same manner. “Thanks for the flowers, ” he stated, in rather a blah way.

However, we enjoyed a wonderful visit which included seeing the new chapel at Waterford. The piano seemed to beckon me to play. “Let’s limit it to three songs,” Mitch encouraged, knowing that I would probably play for an hour. We admired the sanctuary, designed in calming colors of blues and greens. Our conversation also included the exciting news about him becoming a great-grandfather!

The day ended with dinner with my brother. and sister-in-law. I think my mom would be pleased that we celebrated together. Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.

A snow day! What an unexpected treasure! I decided to clean out as many closets and drawers as possible. There is something strangely exhilarating about tossing out bags of junk. However, technology posed a different challenge. What do you do with i-pads that don’t work? I decided to try them out. Several hours later, I discovered a surprise.

One of the i-Pads was my father’s. As I viewed the photos and read the emails, I figured out that it was back in 2016, when my mom was still alive. What memories! Life can really change in seven years.

Reading the emails felt like reading letters in an attic. I had forgotten Bob, a man who faithfully drove my parents to different places. I read several emails regarding my children’s Christmas wish lists, references to presidential elections, the church prayer line, and many advertisements.

When I told my brother, he didn’t share the enthusiasm and thought of it as old junk, but for me, it was another reminder of my mother. The snow day took on a whole new meaning.

December’s snowstorm meant that we delayed our Christmas until January, but it was still memorable. A day filled with laughter, food, and games is a blessing despite the date. Hugging my frail father is a Christmas present in itself.

We marveled at another celebration with my father. ” Remember what he was like right after Mom died?” we mused. We thought it was the last Christmas, based on his comments and depression.

Our discussions usually center on college life, politics, and then my mother. ” What do you suppose she is doing now? we wondered. ” Do you think she welcomed Aunt Mary when she arrived?” The topic reminded my father of his discussion with the pastor and how we should not fantasize about heaven but rely entirely upon God’s Word. I nodded in agreement because sometimes it is easier to nod instead of trying to figure out his thoughts.

We drove back to Indiana, grateful for clear roads and another opportunity to see my dad. Thank you, God, for giving him another Christmas.