Erasable Footprints

(These were Mom's and Charlie's azaleas that were in bloom while we were there.)

We spent all of last week in the woods going through Mom and Charlie’s estate. I hesitate to use the word ‘estate’ for their place; a better word is probably lodge, as in their secluded lodge in the woods, their personal love nest. This is the place they called “home” for their past twenty years together. It is the place where they nestled between adventures, trips and antique hunts. That is, until Charlie passed away rather unexpectedly in 2003. The lonely year that followed left Mom sad and disoriented, as if she were trying to find herself again and figure out where she now belonged. She avoided their place in the woods. It was lonely there and she admitted that aloneness there forced her to confront her sad reality.


Hardly a year after loosing Charlie, Mom was forced to deal with with her own life or death drama, which in the end, left her bed-ridden for the next four and a half years before she went on to meet her maker on December 1, 2008. Our (her families) return to this love nest has been filled with memories as we have sorted through their earthly possessions. These material things may be remnants of two lives lived, but on a far greater level it is the love, the lessons and the memories that are starring each of us in the face.

Every inch of this place whispers memories of similar kinds in each of our ears. I have found myself standing in my mother’s spots taking in views that were hers for many years, thinking of her and her life on earth. And I have seen my siblings doing the same. We have laughed at silly things we have come across in our ‘weeding out’ process and cried over personal belongings that remind us of the love and care that Charlie and Mom always provided.

Out in the shed I walked around Charlie’s repair shop as if it were a museum- not touching- just looking. I so wanted to see Charlie there repairing his pottery; I wanted his cheerful voice to echo through time and fill me with knowledge and facts as he educated me about antiques and collectibles. They weren’t there though, not Charlie- not Mom, not any more. Only we were there to remember, to hold onto the love and even to let go of what was. It is our job now to carry the torch, to tell the tales, to teach the lessons and to care for one another. We reminded ourselves of the lives they would want us to live and the love we still must share.

As I walked on the beach one evening this week I was reminded that our lives on earth are like the footsteps I left in the sand. In came the waves and washed them away. Our lives are certainly not in vain, but they are short and our time on earth is fleeting. I see more clearly that it is the people we touch, the love of Christ that we share and the lessons we teach that remain. As for the rest of our earthly possession, they will truly be eaten by moths and termites and decomposed with rot and mildew.

It wasn’t long ago that we were going through this similar scenario with Jeff’s parents. Jeff’s father was gone and his mother (Susan) was no longer able to live alone. That was shortly before she came to stay with us. As I head for home where Katrina lovingly cares for Susan in our absence I am reminded of the brevity of life. I am thankful that Susan is still with us and I am reminded that although the days of caring for her may seem long, the reality is that they too will be gone too soon.


"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
But lay up for youselves treasures in heaven..."
Matthew 6:19

Journeys

Our journey to the south has been a great diversion from our duties as caregivers. Although we have kept up with Katrina about her time with Susan, we have also been able to put it aside, if even just for a little while. In a way this leaving our duties to one mother to do our duty for another mother is sadly ironic; in a far greater way, it is a blessing because of the love that Jeff and I share for both of our mother’s.

Woo Hoo! We chose to drive more of America’s back roads for this particular journey in our lives. I suppose we simply weren’t in the mood for the less scenic hustle of the interstates. It makes me feel old- that’s for sure. It’s really all about our need for the less traveled roads. The scenic route we traveled wound through small cities and communities where people are busy living real lives, has nurtured our souls.

I felt connected to them all in a way that I never have before- more curious about their lives and interested in their stories. Everyone has one, you know. I found myself often silent on this trip, just starring out the window at the world I have been missing and at the people I long to know. Jeff was quieter too. We were dreaming and pondering on these lives all around us, including our own.














Periodically one of us would begin chatting about a dream or a hope for our future and the other would add to it. Our dreams are not big; they are just happy ones! They are like stars in the sky that twinkle reminders of their existence. These past few years we have watched helplessly as falling stars have again and again dashed across our skies. We have stood helpless to stop them. Too often, we have not realized they were falling until we saw their skidding light of warning in our horizon.

But right now we aren’t looking back- not until we have to. Soon enough, dealing with my mother’s estate will certainly force us to do some of that. For right now though, we are only taking in the view of each moment of every day. Oklahoma…Biloxi…on to the shrimp cook off in Mobile under the live oaks… alligators… grand sceneries… emerald coast… palm trees…white sand…ocean waves!

Heading out!

I can hardly believe it! Tomorrow Katrina arrives and Jeff and I are off to Florida! It feels like respite for us; I suppose because it is the closest thing we have had to time off. The reality is that we are headed to Florida to take care of my mother’s estate. My siblings and myself are scattered around this country, making tending to our mother’s business easy to neglect. It is hard to believe that she has been gone over sixteen months now. Her vacant house is much in need of our attention, so I hear.

So, although we are going to take care of unpleasant business, I still can’t help being excited! Other then a few days off last August for my Kentucky family reunion, I have NOT been away from Susan for more then a day or two since my mother’s death and funeral. That really is pretty bad, now that I am thinking about it. But what are caregivers to do? As all caregivers know, if there is no one (willing or able) to give us a break, we simply won’t get one.

My daughter is my rescuer! She will fly in from Utah tomorrow as Jeff and I head for the Gulf of Mexico. I am so ready to drive away in the car- not looking back, and just drive like crazy toward the beaches. I am SO looking forward to the wind in my face as I take in every mountain, every lake, every homestead, every city and town! Just the change of scenery and the freedom of the drive will be therapy for this weary soul.

I will post as I go and hope that you will enjoy the diversion as much as I hope to. So hitch a ride … and come away with me…….

Episodes

"To each his sufferings: all are men
Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
The unfeeling for his own."
-Gray.



Susan has episodes. Scary episodes. At least I think they are. She is having one right now. Apparently she has two different types of episodes: seizures and Transient Ischemic Attacks(mini-strokes). The doctors have warned us that she will have more; they say that we can’t stop them and that we just need to get her safely through them. In fact, they have indicated that every episode points toward the likelihood of an eventual big one. As a matter of fact, an original stroke (or two) is what may have triggered the onset of her Alzheimer’s in the first place.

About an hour ago we were finishing up with dinner. Susan had eaten very well and was still sitting at the table sipping her drink. I kept encouraging her to move into the living room with her drink to watch the news with me. Several times I thought she was on the way, but I kept finding her still in the chair. Finally taking notice, I saw that she was lifting her rear about an inch from her seat and rocking back and forth- not getting anywhere. I teased her about telling her exterior to get it’s @**# out of the chair. Then, mumbling in a thick-tongued speech she attempted to relay the message to her bottom half.

“Susan, are you okay?” my voice must have sounded alarmed, bringing Jeff hurrying into the kitchen. We helped her up; us doing the job her legs refused to do. Her eyes rolled back at one point and she seemed like she might keel over right on the kitchen floor. We maneuvered her to her rocking chair where she slumped butt forward as she does whenever she has such an episode. Certainly she was simply too weak to hold herself up. But at least she responded to my teasing by sticking her tongue out at me. Whew!


We did all the familiar functional checks and looked her over for obvious signs of a stroke. Susan is one of the rare ones who is effected by strokes on the right side of her body rather then her left. At one point tonight the right side of her mouth seemed to pull down, but regained itself quickly. Sometimes she drools during an episode; tonight she did not. Her blood pressure read very low each time we took it. Eventually, Jeff carried her to bed where she now lay. We check her often and monitor her condition.

Although the medical professionals have attempted to prepare us for the inevitability of such recurring episodes, we are never fully prepared when they actually happen. To give you a better idea, it is comparable to those of us living here in ‘tornado alley.’ We live here knowing the risk, yet we are still surprised when during tornado season one actually twists our way. We know they will come, but not when. Because of that, we are never really expecting one and are always taken aback.

On veteran’s Day weekend Susan actually had one such episode right in the Lowe’s store and ended up being transported by ambulance to the hospital. Several hours later she was back home recovering. Other times, she has spent a week and two in the hospital and even needed physical therapy follow-up at home. Hopefully she will recover from this particular one quickly and be ready to enjoy a happy healthy spring. I think warm weather will do a Susie good!

P.S. Susan progressively got her strength back last night and this morning (other then being tired) seems fairly normal.

Looking For A Red Car - That's All I'm Saying.

Limp limp limp…
Susan appeared from the grotto gate this morning
hunched
grumpy
confused…

I am sorry to say that I did not feel a lot of pity.
She should have listened to me.
Maybe she will listen now
to sore feet
and achy joints.


Looking for the red car all day yesterday
was NOT a good idea;
especially since it doesn’t exist-
it never did...
never will.

Susan was sure it had stalled on the side of the road...
She needed to get it
before a car hit it.
When I wouldn’t drive her
she went anyway…walking.

and walking...
and walking...
and walking...
and walking...
and walking...

I followed her at first
then walked beside her
reminding her she could turn around
as she walked on…on…on…
still looking.

Eventually she stumbled
down beside a tree.
There, I made her rest.
Stubbornly she arose and stumbled forward
down the road some more.
.

Insisting she quit this non-sense
I turned her around
because she was weak
her cheeks were red-
my patience was thin.

Three miles later,
she clung to me and panted,
No water...
No rides...
No strength...

I made her a walking stick
to hold her up.
Then, close enough to home
in the shade I left her…
I saw no choice.

Alone, I ran toward home
down the road- up the hill.
got the car… …
picked her up
drove her home.

On the porch she sipped a drink… ate a snack
as she plotted how to get her car!
No giving up for her
no, none of that
not for Susan!

Need I say more?