Tag: life

Affected

Posted on by chelleren

At times, I disengage from news stories. Although the news may be tragic, I read it, pause for a moment, and then go onward. However, the news about Nancy Guthrie is quite different, and I suspect this is true for others as well.

If I kept track of the frequency of “Nancy Guthrie” news checks, I probably would be amazed. I find myself thinking, ” Maybe today!”. I shake my head in disbelief as another possible lead disappoints.

My emotions range from anger toward the person who kidnapped her to incredible sorrow for the family. Then I ponder her age. Who kidnaps an 84 year old mother and grandmother? Memories of my mother-in-law and mom, both now deceased, flood my mind. Saying goodbye to a parent is difficult. It doesn’t matter the age. This situation can only be termed as unimaginable heartbreak and pain.

My “let’s fix this” mindset prompts me to say, ” I need to go there and look for her myself ” , but this is ridiculous. I have no credentials, no expertise, and no knowledge of the area of her neighborhood.

The anger I feel over this crime makes me want to write a letter to the kidnapper. In this letter, I would express my outrage at these reprehensible actions, remind about respect for elders, and somehow convince this to end. However, this is all pointless because there is no address, I have no knowledge of how criminals work, and it would complicate the process.

My other thoughts center on Savannah. When I look at the pictures of the two of them enjoying life and each other, I feel tears trickling down my cheeks. I grieve with her, even though I do not know her. I wonder how she is able to cope each day. Above all, I pray for her and that a resolution will come soon. It’s the only thing I can do.

Six Year Mark

Posted on by chelleren

How do people remember those who passed? This isn’t the first time I have asked this question. I know someone who marks the date with a family dinner. Others visit the gravesite.

My mother’s passing came without anything done. No communication with relatives, no action on my part, and no remarks.

However, I woke up today, the day after, and remembered. “Did my mother pass away on the 9th or 19th?” I had to locate the funeral bulletin to be sure.

Thinking about her passing the day after the date made me wonder. Is this what happens to people after a certain amount of time? Perhaps it is that way when it is about someone who is older. I doubt it happens when it is a young person. My mother was 89 years old and lived a full life. Her obituary is proof.

However, I still felt a sense of regret that I didn’t do anything on the actual day.

The question, though, is this: does it matter? Does it matter that I didn’t communicate with my brother about this date when we often mention her in communication?

My action step is to create another list of ways to remember her, regardless of the date. Time to get started!

  • Send a care package to her granddaughter who lives in another state
  • Eat a Dove chocolate or share some with another person
  • Take a picture of her great grandchildren by the tulip tree we planted in her honor
  • Donate money to a charity. This is easy because my son is trying to raise money for children’s cancer research.
  • Have a picnic
  • Put out flags for September 11
  • Attend a concert
  • Listen to ABBA music
  • Listen to John Denver music
  • Remind my brother of the date

Achieving the items on this list will help me remember my mother in a positive way on any date. Actionable steps make a difference!

A Different Role

Posted on by chelleren

As we enter the last week of February, I am pausing my workload to return to this blog. It’s been quiet for some time now because my father passed away in November.

I can hardly believe that he is actually gone. Yes, he lived a long life, but I miss him terribly. I wish I could still walk into his room and hear his greeting, ” HEY!!!” I wish I could sit down with him and talk about his stories about WWII and how he outwitted the Germans. I wish I could organize all his messy papers, show him pictures of the family, and take him on walks on the outside trails.

I didn’t feel like writing about it and, at first, I could not articulate the reasons. I suppose that the busyness of work and the holidays keeps one from writing. After a parent passes away, one needs to manage paperwork and other tasks. My brother has managed this part which is a blessing.

Upon further reflection, however, I think it was because of the closure that I always dreaded. Both parents are gone. I don’t think I have fully come to terms with this truth. My Michigan visits will be different now. I will not be heading to Waterford. I don’t even know if I could actually walk into Waterford right now without feeling a huge void and expressing the ” ugly cry”, not the best presentation of myself.

It was the email, though, that prompted me to rethink my feelings. ” Do you know of any Christian podcasts that focus on issues with aging parents?” It was a wake-up call for me. It reminded me of the importance of helping those who are caregivers. It reminded me of the need to establish a caregiving support group at church. In other words,the journey must continue. My role must continue. But what does this look like? This is for another blog post. In the meantime, I will share some pictures of my father’s service.

My dad would have loved having family together for the luncheon.
We had very few flowers at the service. It was better that way. More people contributed to my father’s choice of charity.
My brother, his wife, Mitch, and I were all together when my father passed away. I am truly grateful that I could witness his peaceful passing into eternity. I was not present when my mother passed away and always regretted it.

A Constant Battle

Posted on by chelleren

I seem to deal with something repeatedly. What is it? Unrealistic expectations. I don’t know why, but it keeps happening. Case in point: our recent MI visit to see my father.

“Hope you have a nice visit. He’s been doing well lately,” my brother texted. My answer: low expectations make a difference. The Saturday visit reminded me that I don’t always believe it.

As we planned the Saturday visit, I thought of ways to encourage. Thankfully, the facility allows dogs so we took Kenai along for the ride. We brought my father’s plant back. It struggled for a while, so we took it to Indiana for tender loving care. I thought its healthy green leaves would excite my father. A new picture of Julia in a white frame would prompt a smile! New stickers for his water bottle would remind him of God’s love and care. Shamrock shakes from McDonald’s would top off the morning fantastically.

Upon arriving at Waterford, we found Dad sleeping in his wheelchair. As he woke up, my optimism started fading. I noticed his swollen hand. “What happened?” I inquired. He shrugged. The nurse informed me of the edema. When he sleeps a certain way, it causes edema. However, it usually goes away by mid-afternoon. Deciding that his room would allow a quieter visit, we wheeled him to his small abode. ” Look at your plant!” I encouraged. ” Yeah,” he replied with indifference. ” We also brought you a new picture of Julia,” I continued. ” And what about these shakes?” I asked, pointing to the three green shakes. He sipped the green shake cautiously and gobbled down the cookie. I placed the new stickers on his water bottle. ” Why is this empty?” I asked. ” Too heavy to carry,” he responded. I never thought about the weight of a water bottle!

” What’s up with your hair, Dad?” I asked. More shrugging without talking. I gave up on trying to create a polished look with his brush.

“Let’s go somewhere else, ” I suggested, hoping that a different location would allow more conversation to occur. His listless answers needed a different approach.

Despite my attempts at playing the piano, interacting with other residents, and showing a plethora of pictures, he kept nodding off. When he did converse, he remarked on his memory and how little he could remember.

” Do you remember my name?” I asked. He did, thankfully.

However, I was dismayed to find out that he could not remember our sister-in-law’s name, our kids, or my brother’s kids. The questioning must have tired him out because he fell back asleep.

Deciding that this visit would be categorized as a short one, we left. On the way out, I asked the nurse to make sure he received a haircut. I wondered, once again, if this was our last visit.

However, one can never tell. ” Ups and downs”, the nurse remarked.

On our way back to Indiana, I thought about expectations and researched more ways to deal with them.

The title of the article, “How to Relinquish Unrealistic Expectations” caught my eye. The author outlines several ways to deal with unrealistic expectations. Using humor is one way, but I don’t find these types of visits funny. The reality is that I sometimes feel disappointed in giving up an entire Saturday for a visit. What did we accomplish?

However, another tip did resonate. What would I say to another person in this situation? I would say that every visit, no matter the outcome, is a way to honor a parent. It is part of the journey of caregiving.

https://psychcentral.com/lib/how-to-relinquish-unrealistic-expectations