Grief

I hate grief. There are so many reasons why. First, it means that my mom is gone. I can't see her when I want to. I can't hear her laugh anymore. Yes, I am so glad she is healed and whole again. But I miss her every day. Grief is the price we pay for loving people.

The second thing I hate about grief is how unpreditable it is. I can be having a good day and things are going well, only to be sucker punch by grief and fall asleep crying. Maybe a dream I have wakes me up in the morning and my day starts off with grief. I still have dreams about the ER and her jaw. I have dreams of the nursing home. I have dreams of people who were apart of our lives the past 4 years. I guess that is a way I am trying to deal with grief.  I am a person who likes to have a little control and I have no control over grief. There is no recipe for how to go through it. There are no "symptoms" or steps. You just have to deal with what comes your way.

The third thing I hate about grief is the heartache I feel with it. Mother's day this year was my first year without her. My heart physically hurt that day. You think you know what heartache is as you grow up and experience break ups or friends move away. But it was nothing compared to the physical heart ache I felt on Mother's day. To know that each Mother's day, birthday, etc...I can't see her, makes my heart hurt.

The only way to even deal with grief is to cry and pray for comfort that only God can bring. But even that is hard at times because you can't feel Him and you can't see Him. What I wouldn't give for some days to physically climb up on His lap. I spend time in the Psalms and listening to music, I let the tears fall because I know He is keeping track of them as it says:
     You keep track of all my sorrows.
          You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
           You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8 NLT

There are still days that I can't believe she is gone. I was there when she took her last breath. I saw her body go through the stages before death. It still at times seems so unreal. At times, I can't believe it has only been 8 months and I think how much longer it is going to be before I see her again. At times, it feels like it has been longer then 8 months because the disease took her long before her body gave up. There are days I see her when I look at me in the mirror. There are days I hear her words coming out of my mouth. I can't believe she is gone. Now, I am left to grieve and go on without her. She took a piece of me when she died. I am a different person since she passed away. I can't go back. I can only go forward step by step and day by day. 

A New Year

This week we left 2013 behind. Leading up to New Year's Eve it sounded good leaving 2013 behind. It was a very hard year. A year full of loss. A year full of pain. But as January 1st approached, I was sad. I wasn't looking forward to leaving 2013 behind and starting a new year. I think it is because I felt like I was leaving her behind. I know it sounds crazy. She is in Heaven, how can I leave her behind?!

I had her for 10 months in 2013. Although many of those months were hard on her and me, she was still here. We made many trips to the ER and I am so glad her jaw is healed now. But I could see her. I could still hug her and on a good day, hear her laugh. As I start this New Year, I start it without her.

Many people make resolutions in the New Year. This year, I don't have any. This year, I have to figure out what life looks like now that she is gone. I have spent the passed 10 years helping to care for my mom. The past 4 years, I have spent 3 times a week visiting her at the nursing home. Towards the end, I was there everyday leaving only for a few hours to eat and some night to try and sleep. See, I am not really excited for the New Year because I see many days ahead without her.

This New Year means to me that I have to figure out what do I do with all this time I have now? Who am I now that I am not a caregiver? How do I not get depressed on the days I used to go see her? How do I fill my time with things that God wants me to do and not just things to take away the emptiness? This New Year means a long road of grieving. So, I am not really happy to start a New Year. I am already tired.

But as I start this New Year, I will try to sit at my Savior's feet and seek His comfort, His face and His direction. Only by doing this, can I make it through this.

Christmas 2013

She is spending Christmas in Heaven this year. She will be with her sister, mom and dad. I wonder what Christmas is like in Heaven?

She is fully healed now. Her memories have been restored. Her jaw will no longer get locked. She is able to walk again and use her hands fully.

I miss her deeply.

Thankful

When your loved one has an incurable disease, it is very hard at time to be thankful. Each day I see my mom slipping further and further away. I miss her all the time. She is not the same person anymore. She can no longer do most things for herself. She is slowly not recognizing me as much. So, how can I be thankful in all of this?

First, I am thankful for the care that the nursing home gives her. I am thankful for the staff and the friendships I have built there. They care for her in a way that I cannot. They support me and my decisions I make for her. The doctors at the nursing home care about both of us. They ask how I am doing in all of this. They don't pressure me and want what is best for me. Decisions at this stage in her disease are not easy. They help me each step of the way. Hospice helps with her pain and having other visit her when I can't.

Second, I am thankful that we can go to the ER and get her jaw fixed when it locks. The insurance pays for it and we are usually in and out of there in a few hours. Am I thankful her jaw is having issues, no. Do I understand it, no. But I am thankful to have the means to fix it. I am thankful for the caring Ambulance company that I use most of the time because they know us. Yes, it is sad they know us...but they care about us.

Third, I am thankful that I am able to be there for my mom. It is exhausting and I ache deeply all the time for her. But I can be there to make decisions on her behalf that she is not able to make anymore. Most people just drop their loved ones off and don't really care. Some have to work to provide for their family. I am thankful for a hardworking and understand husband, that allows me to take care of my mom.

Most of all, I am thankful that this is not the end. I am thankful that my mom made that decision many years ago to accept Christ as her savior. One day, she will be whole again. Oh, how I wish it was on this side of Heaven. But I know that God is holding every lost thought, word and memory in His mighty hand. I know that He is holding every tear I have cried over her, in His hands. One day, all those will be restored. He holds her so close to Him and He holds me close, even when I don't feel Him. I know He is there. I know He cries with me. Could He take this all away? Yes. But this is the road He has chosen for us to walk. I am thankful He is walking this with me. I am thankful for the faith that I see this journey developing in me. See faith isn't developed in the good times and when life is going smoothly. Faith is developed when I can 't see the end, I can't see the reason for all of this, I keep praying for her jaw and it keeps getting locked. Faith is developed when I cry out to Him because my strength is gone and I have to go to the ER one more time. And so many other times through all of this. Oh, how I am thankful for my Faith!

I am thankful that one day this is verse and long for that day!

Revelation 21:4
And He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain.

Hospice= help and comfort

The one thing that I have learned from all the time that I spend with my mom at the nursing home is that hospice doesn't always mean death. I used to think that. In most cases, people don't go on hospice until they are close to dying. For my mom and I it means help.

After an exhausting 2 weeks of ER trips every couple of days in March, I made the decision to put my mom on hospice. I knew by doing this it didn't mean she was dying soon. I knew that they could help us with her pain medicine and make changes to some of her other meds to see if we can keep her comfortable. With the late stage that my mom is in, you don't know if she is in pain and where that pain might be. It is a guessing game. You watch her facial expressions and her agitation. Those are the only signs we have. Can she be in pain and grinding her teeth, sure. Does she understand what she is doing, no. That means I need to do something to keep her comfortable.

I met with the hospice on the Monday that my father in law died. I sometimes wonder if all the trips to the ER was God trying to get my attention. Was He getting me to the point where I would accept Hospice, maybe. Was her jaw coming out because of the Botox, maybe. Did I need more help with her care, YES! That Monday she was signed up with hospice. They brought her a new bed, a new wheelchair and a new air mattress to help her be comfortable.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone in this. Yes, the staff at the nursing home is wonderful and I call many of them friends. But they have so many other residents that they are in charge of. They take excellent care of my mom and I am so grateful for all of them, but I needed more one on one help. That is where hospice comes in. The hospice nurse is wonderful. The social worker knows all about lock jaw because her ex husband had it. The chaplain sits with my mom and reads the Bible to her. The chaplain calls me to see how I am doing.

Everything hospice does for my mom is about making her comfortable. That is a huge blessing and praise for me. See I can't make her comfortable all the time. Yes, I think I can help when we are at the ER and I am talking to her. But I can't take the pain away. I can't change this for her. At least with hospice, they can help her with medicine. They can change any medicine at any time to make her comfortable. They visit her on days that I am not there and that brings me comfort.

It takes special people to be hospice workers. They are full of compassion and care so much for their patients and family members. I am so glad that I made the decision to get hospice care for my mom. I know she is in the late stages of this awful disease and I can't change that. But I can at least make sure she is comfortable and hopefully not in pain. God continues to bring amazing people into our path through this. I am grateful for them all.

Decisions

Today was one of those days when I hate having to be the one to make decisions for my mom. As the years go on with her Dementia and life throws some curve balls in the mix, there are times I don't want to make the decisions. There are times that I want to throw a tantrum and say I don't want to. It doesn't last long. I pull up my big girl pants and press on.

I am glad that I can make decisions for her. Most people their family just drops them off and is not apart of their care. That leaves it up to the staff. They are great staff and I know they don't take making decisions for people lightly. The staff will talk to me as I am making decisions. The doctors will talk to me. But in the end, it is up to me.

I know I have some of the same questions that parents do when deciding things for their children. Is what I am saying yes to going to harm them? What if I am make the wrong decision? I don't want to do anything to hurt her. I want her to be as comfortable as we can make her and give her quality of life for as long as we can.

Never did I think that at my age would I have to make decisions about her Advanced Directives and Advanced Care. Luckily, the doctor that went over it with me was very caring and compassionate. It is not a subject that is easy to talk about and the decisions are even harder.

Many people say how lucky she is to have me. But I am blessed to have her as my mom. She was a wonderful mom and woman when I was growing up. She taught me so much. She was there when I made the most important decision at the age of 7. She was there to talk to me about Jesus and she was there when I decided to accept Him as my Savior. I couldn't imagine going through all this without Him. I get to pray to Him about all the decisions for her. And if I love her as much as I do and I don't want to cause harm, I can't imagine how much  more He loves her.

Do I understand why this has happened to us? No. Do I get angry about it? Yes. But I know that God is already where my decisions are going to need to be made. He already knows the outcome. I just have to decide to trust Him 100% and that He has my mom in His hands.

Christmas 2012

She didn't respond much today. I brought the dogs and Blake with me, she didn't respond much to them either. She was sleepy and mostly rested in her chair. The days leading up to Christmas had my stomach in knots. This year has been a challenge with her jaw. For whatever reason, her jaw has decided to lock this year, three times with three trips to the ER. I would say many silent prayers asking God to please keep her jaw in place over Christmas. I didn't want to go to the ER. I cringe when my phone rings and I see it's the nursing home. I freak out thinking what is wrong. They usually only call when something has happened. I am there 3 times a week.

The trips to the ER bring many tears for me. Tears for her and what she is going through. How scared she must be because she probably doesn't understand why her jaw is locked open and she can't ask for help or talk very well. She is taken to a hospital where the people are different and she doesn't recognize them. I go every time because I can't leave her there alone. I can't expect the ER staff to make the right decision for her and on her behalf. That is my responsibility.

Tears fall for the person she is now and the person I miss so deeply, especially as the Christmas season comes around. I miss her and doing the things we used to do. We used to watch Little Women and I can't watch that movie now. Tears fall at Church service because she always did love hearing the kids sing. Tears fall because I can't bring her to service with me. She loved the Christmas music. Tears fall because I know God loves her so much more then I do and I pray He is singing over her. I pray He is closer to her now more then ever before. I pray that she sees Him or an angel. I pray He comforts her in a way that I can't.

I never know what the next year will bring as each year comes to an end. It is hard to believe we will be going into our 10th year on this Dementia journey. People tell me that my mom can last for 10+ more years and I think please God don't let that be. She is in a wheelchair and can no longer do much of anything for herself. No one deserves to live a long time like this. She should be healed and whole in Heaven with her loved ones who have passed already. But then, I think...no, I want to keep her here. I want to be able to see her. If I can't see her, I feel like I will lose me.

She was here for this Christmas. Merry Christmas, my sweet mom. I love you and miss you so very much.

Peace and Joy in Suffering

What a week this has been. Wow. It seems that when I get a little too comfortable with how my mom is doing, something comes up. It should not surprise me since this disease is always taking more of my mom away. But there is no way to prepare for what might come next.

I have been doing a Bible Study in 1 Peter. In the first chapter of Peter, he talks about us being distressed by various trials and that it is to strengthen our faith. There are a number of bible verses that talk about trials and suffering. I have to admit, when I am in the middle of a trial and even this week with my mom, I don't think of these in a joyful manner and it is really hard to have peace. I do still question God's purpose in this. I am not super Christian in these moments. I am super human.  I do remember that this is not the end of the story. I do remember that one day, Christ is coming back. I do remember that one day, my sweet mom will be healed and made whole again. But in the middle of suffering and trails, I have a hard time with the joy. I do wish I could just say I trust God and mean it with my whole heart. That is so very hard in the middle of trials. I keep trying. I know He won't give up on me.

It is hard to see my sweet mom changing so much. She was so scared and confused. She didn't know people are trying to help her. I felt so helpless as I watched her with her jaw locked open, trying to talk and looking scared. I was trusting the doctors at the ER to take care of her and at the same time, I am trying to make decisions that are best for her. I shed many, many tears this week. It is the only way to express what I was feeling as I watched Monday and Tuesday unfold.

I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to be scared. I want the very best for her. But I know there will come a time for hard decisions. This life is full of hard decisions. I pray with all my heart that God gives me wisdom as I make decisions on her behalf. But this life is not easy. There is no where in the Bible that says it will be a peace of cake. I  try to remind myself that God loves her so much more than I do. He has faithfully put the right people in our path on this journey. I have great support from the staff at the nursing home.
Music is always so comforting for me. I got that from my mom. I listened to songs like Great is Thy Faithfulness, I Look to You, Be Thou My Vision, and many others that bring me so much comfort. 


 One thing that never goes away is I do ache so much for my mom. I ache for what she has lost and what I have lost. I ache for who she is now and who she was. I do pray she doesn't remember any of this past week. She was pretty cute through it all. She would smile and try to talk, even with her jaw locked open. I am grateful that through all of this, she is so sweet. I pray all the time that she see angels at night when she sleeps. I pray they dance and sing over her. I pray that maybe I bring her a little comfort when I am there and she does not feel alone. 

Progression

In most normal settings in life, progression is a good thing. In dementia, it is a dreaded word. It is also inevitable. No amount of drugs can stop the progression. It also means grief. Each step of the progression takes my mom further away from me. It brings more bad days than good. It brings more agitation. It brings questions like how much longer do I have with her? When will she completely stop talking? Will she get to the point where she can't shallow her food?

Right now, we are trying to manage what we think is pain. Whether it is pain from her hand, pain from sitting in a wheelchair for so long or pain else where?! She can't really tell you where the pain is. So, it is trial and error to see what helps. The pain seems to bring agitation. If it is not pain, it is just agitation that comes with this awful disease.

There are times when I sit there looking at her and think, you don't deserve this. The staff is so wonderful, but I know she must get tired of them having to do everything for her. I thank God that she isn't fully aware of what is going on because how embarrassed she would be. They treat her with dignity, but you are not supposed to wear diapers when you are not a baby. I think deep down, she knows. She knows this isn't how she is supposed to be. But she is stuck.

The memories of how she used to be are fading. How do I hold onto them? I need to write them down. Sometimes, I can close my eyes and see our old house, see her when she was healthy and whole. It seems like another life. I want to hold onto those memories, but they feel like they are slipping from me. Soon they will be all I have left. I wish for just a few minutes I could look at her and see how she used to be. Maybe just a glimmer in her eyes. This is not how life was to be. I was supposed to have her longer. She was my friend and my mom. She was my example of an amazing faith. I want her back so bad. I want her back here on earth and not have to wait until Heaven.

I do find myself praying that God takes her before she gets really bad. I don't want to watch her go through the last stages of this awful disease. I don't want to see her when she just lays in bed. Maybe God is getting me ready as I watch her progress. Maybe all this pain I feel, is Him getting me ready and getting me to the point, when I say okay You can have her. Not that He needs my permission. But maybe He is just giving me time to get there. Of course, I don't think I will fully get there. A part of me will always want her here.

Another Year.....

We made it through another year with this awful disease. However, 2011 brought some changes. I don't do well with changes, whether it is with her memory condition or staffing at the nursing home. Both happened this past year.

My mom was having trouble eating some of the tougher foods. This at times resulted in her vomiting after eating. It was decided that we should put her on mechanical soft foods. This means that when there are tougher meats, it is chopped up. This is not pureed food, thank goodness. I don't think I will ever be ready for that stage. She seems to be doing okay on her mechanical soft foods.

We have had roommate changes, which is always interesting. My mom has a tendency to get stuck on words and she talks in her sleep. So, people can handle that and others get nasty about it. The best roommate she ever had was when she 1st moved up to the 3rd floor. The staff is very good about making sure the roommates get along and will make changes if needed. There has been staffing changes at the nursing home, whether they moved on with a new job or were laid off because of budget cuts. Both, I don't like. I have become friends with many at the nursing home.

The biggest change for me this year was her doctor. He was given a great promotion and will be training other NP's. After a year and a half, I finally was able to trust him and his decision for my mom. I had gone through her end of life stuff with him. It is still an adjustment for me. But I remind myself that God was here before her doctors, before the nursing home, and before this disease. Even when things change, God does not, nor does His love for my mom and I.

There have been changes in her memory and her mental ability. Words are harder for her to say. She gets stuck on words more easily. She doesn't laugh as much as she did at the beginning of the year. Her eyes don't always look at me with recognition, but more confusion and emptiness. The "I love you's" are fewer and fewer. I still tell her I love you and once in awhile I get a response. I still go to see her 3 times a week. I know some people wonder why I go so much, mostly for me. I just need to see her.

Many people look forward to the New Year. For the 1st time, I am not. I don't know why. I guess I am always scared of what this new year will bring when it comes to her and the dementia. I am scared that this year could be the last. I am scare of her getting worse. I think if I can stay in 2011, then everything will stay the same. I don't always want to move forward because I know one day I will be without her. I selfishly want to keep her here. When she dies, I will still be here. I will have to learn how to live again, but without her. I will have to figure out what to do on those days that I visit her. I have been going through this with her for the past 8+ years. What will I do when she is gone? I also know that this year, I have to start making funeral arrangements. Not that I plan on her dying, but people say it is easier if you do it before hand. The problem is that when I begin the process, I can't breath. How am I supposed to make these decisions? I shouldn't have to be making these decisions.

I hope this year is a stable year for us. But I know that if it is not and changes continue to happen, that God is here with us. He loves her so much more then I do. He cries when I cry. He aches more, for she is His daughter and His creation. He knows her thoughts even when they are confused and mixed up. He is holding all her words and lost memories in His giant hand, waiting to release them back to her in Heaven.

Thanksgiving 2011

I realized it has been while since I wrote about my mom. I figured this is a good time to write because as the holidays approach, I hurt and I ache. It helps to write.

I am thankful that she is still here for me to visit. Most days she seems to recognize my voice, but recently there have been a few days where she looks like she doesn't know me at all. Those days hurt deeply. It is a harsh reminder of this disease. People ask how my mom is doing and my answer is stable, because that is all I can really say. You can't say oh she is getting better. You can say she is getting worse. So, as long as I am saying stable, I feel that is good.

I am thankful for the great care she is still receiving. There have been some staff changes and those have been very hard for me. Some staff, I can now call friend and I am so grateful for that. I don't do well with change and I know God knows that. I think He shakes things up for me to remind me that He is constant. Even through all the changes both with her and the nursing home, He is still constant and does not change. For that, I am grateful.

I am grateful that she is my mother. I am grateful that she taught me so much when she was healthy. I am grateful that she wrote me letters and cards. I am really grateful that I saved them. I am grateful that I can see her in me and things that I say or do. She was a wonderful mother and I am so blessed to be her daughter.

But there is a side to the holidays that is not easy and is hard to be thankful for. That part is the hole that is in my life where she was. I remember going to craft shows the day after Thanksgiving. We would play games on Thanksgiving with friends of the family who joined us. I miss those days. I always thought I would have her around. I had dreams of what the holidays would be like after I was married. These dreams included kids and big family gatherings around the holidays. A part of me grieves around the holidays, for those dreams are not going to happen. I wanted her to be Grandma. She would have been a great Grandma. She was a wonderful mother.

A Rough week

Emotionally this week has been draining. My mom is fine right now. She is stable and happy. But this week was her birthday. She turned 63. It is hard to believe we have been dealing with this for 7 years. As the years go by, the way she was before the Dementia seems like another lifetime ago.

Today, I did the Walk for Alzheimer's. It was the 1st year I have been able to participate. As I am driving the City Park, I was remembering how my mom used to do this drive 5 days a week when she worked at PSL for the Volunteer Department. She used to be able to work and drive. Now, she can't even feed herself. How can this be the same person?

I went to see her on her birthday. No, she won't remember and probably didn't have any idea that is was her birthday. I do it for me. I do it for my memories of her. Is it easy, no. Do I ache and cry, yes. But I need to be there with her. It makes me feel better most of the time.

I don't know what next year will bring. I can only hope and pray that this time next year, I will be celebrating her 64th birthday and still carrying a Yellow Flower for the Alzheimer's walk. That color means caring for someone with Alzheimer's. I dread the Purple Flower, that is in memory of someone who has died from Alzheimer's. But I know one day this horrible disease will take my mom completely away from me, both in mind and body. Selfishly, I say not yet....because what will I do and who will I be when she is gone?

Psalm 139 Alzheimer’s Version

God sees you, He knows what’s happened, He knows you.He knows when you sit and when you sleep.
He knows your tangled thoughts; He knows them straight.
He knows when you’re not here
and where you are when you’re gone.
He knows your ways.
Before your words are lost before they get to your tongue,
He knows what you were about to say, what you meant.
He knows you.

There’s nowhere you can go, Mom, where God won’t go with you,
where God’s Spirit won’t comfort you, can’t hold you.
As your light turns to night, even this darkness won’t hide you.
God sees you clearly because dark is light to Him.
He’ll go with you.
And He thinks of you, Mom, often.
The number of times, the many ways God cares for you,
if we tried to count them, would outnumber
sand on a beach.
So you can rest easy, while I count.
I’m counting my tears.
I’m counting the slights, the indignities, the affronts
to your good pride.
I’m counting the frayed edges, the missing pieces of your
lost person.
But we’ll get through this, Mom,
because when you awake—everyday and someday—you
will be with him.
And someday I too will awake with Him, with you.

I found this one day and I changed it to fit my mom. I always say that God is holding each lost word and lost memory in the palm of His hand. One day, those will be released back to my mom. One day, she will be restored. If I love my mom this much and ache for her as much as I do, God much ache more. He created her. Although, I don't always understand why we are going through this. I know He is with us and isn't letting one forgotten moment get away from Him. I also believe, He is holding on to every tear that I shed on behalf of my mom and I. His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts. I just have to trust.

Comfort

Comfort is one of that word that would describe what my mom was to me growing up. She was there with me when I had my tonsils removed, staying overnight in the hospital. When my parent's divorced I would sleep on the floor in her room and it made me feel a little better. Even when I was older, I would find myself sleeping on her floor if I was having a hard time. A hug from her or encouraging words would always help me feel better when dealing with a broken heart. I miss that about her. Sometimes, I still need the comfort she would bring. I don't think you are ever too old for the comfort of your mother.

I hope that maybe now, I bring her comfort in her current state. I always hope that when I am there with her, she is a little more relaxed. Maybe my presence brings the same feelings of safety, that she brought me. I wish that when I sat with her, I would feel her comfort again. I wish when I sat with her, that I would feel that everything is okay. But life is so different now with her being sick.

Aching

I have become very good at hiding the pain with a smile. Most of the time, it is a genuine smile....but there are those times when it is hiding the pain, the tears and the aching in my heart for my mom. There doesn't have to be a specific reason, I could have had a great day with her or just going on with my daily life. It can hit at anytime and I ache. I can remember her and the way she was. I think to myself how even though she is treated with the greatest of dignity at the nursing home, how embarrassed she would be that they help her with everything. That makes me ache. It makes me ache for the person she was. I ache for the fact that she doesn't do much on her own anymore. I ache when she is trying to say a word and it doesn't come out right.

I ache when those memories hit me of the way life was before. I can sometimes see it so clearly and yet it seems like a lifetime ago. I ache sometimes at night as I worry is she lonely. I ache for the fact that I will never see her the way she was on this side of heaven. When I think of the time that she will leave this world to be healed in Heaven my heart just aches. What will I do when she is gone?

Mother's Day 2011

A Mother's Love

Helen Steiner Rice

A mother's love is something that no one can explain

It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain.

It is endless and unselfish and enduring, come what may,

For nothing can destroy it or take that love away.

It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking,

And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking.

It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns,

And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems.

It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation,

And it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation

A many splendored miracle man cannot understand

And another wondrous evidence of God's tender, guiding hand.

I miss you, mom. I ache inside. I ache for the person you were and for who you are now. I ache because you loved to walk and now, you don't want to. I ache when I hear you try to say words and they don't come out right. I ache because you have to be helped with everything and I know that must get tiring. I ache because I can't take care of you by myself in my home. I try to be strong, but inside....I ache. I cry and I miss you so much.

Another year, Another Birthday

It probably seems weird that I would talk about my birthday on a blog about my mom. The truth is that birthdays and holidays are so hard without her. Oh, I know she isn't dead..but she is not the same mom I knew. I miss her so much, especially on my birthday. My mom would always buy the most beautiful birthday cards and if it wasn't enough the words on the card, she would then fill the card in with her own words. I wish there was a way I could share them on here. Her words were always so encouraging and uplifting. I would always hear how proud she was of me and how much she loved me. I am so glad that I have kept all her cards. I take them out and read them. It is so very painful and yet, I eat up her words all over again.

I will see my mom on my birthday. I always like to see her. Yes, it is hard because she doesn't really know I am her daughter and she definitely doesn't know it is my birthday. But when I am with her, I feel a little more whole. I selfishly pray that she stay stable for a while. She is a big part of who I am today. She was a great mom. She taught me so much. I miss talking to her about life. I miss taking walks with her. I am afraid of the day that she passes. Oh, I know she will be healed and with her family. But I am afraid she will take a big part of me with her.

I love you, mom and I ache so many times for you. I wish for just a few moments....we could talk again. I wish I had taken more pictures with you when I was growing up. I keep looking in boxes of pictures thinking there will be new pictures of us, that I didn't see before. I wish I could tell you thank you. Thank you for being a great mom. Thank you for raising me up to know and live for God. Thank you for your example of faith. I see more of you in me, as I get older. It is a good thing. I am proud to be like you.

Little Blessings

This picture was taken on Sunday morning at the church service at the nursing home. I treasure this photo. I have learned to treasure many things these days. I have learned to call them little blessings. When this disease takes over your loved one, you can sometimes overlook the small things. The things that for just a moment say, life is okay.

My favorite little blessings:

Her giggle. She can start to giggle at the most random time. But to me, that means she is happy and content. It is a beautiful sound.

At times, I think she gets restless....so, she starts to scoot in her wheelchair. She just takes off and I follow. The whole times saying, "Go, Mom, Go." To me, it means she still is using her legs and her brain.

Those at the nursing home who go above and beyond their job. Those that I now call friend.

The times at church when we are singing a hymn, I turn to her and sing it to her. She gets a big smile on her face. Or when she taps her foot along to the beat of music being played on a bagpipe.

When we sang Happy Birthday to a resident and my mom sang the last verse. The words weren't exactly right, but she sang.

Most people would overlook these little moments. But to me, they are little blessings. They are little reminders that my mom is still in there somewhere. Yes, the disease is changing her and continues to take her from me. But God continues to be faithful to the both of us and continues to give me these little blessings.

Run

My sweet mom, this disease continues to take you away from me. Even looking back at pictures of last year and seeing the difference now. She is more tired these days. I don't know if that is from not sleeping well at night or her body is just tired. The conversations are not what they used to be. Her words are more jumbled and don't always make sense. I still think she recognizes me a little. I love when she gets the giggles.

Sometimes I wish I could run and keep running until all of this goes away. I want her back. I want my mom back. I want to be able to talk with her and take walks like we used to. I want to be able to share life again. I hate this disease. I hate when it has done to my mom. It has changed both of our worlds forever.

I try to be strong and not let it bother me. I try to see God's purpose for this. I try to remind myself that He is in control and knows what He is doing. But sometimes, I just want to run.

Same Person?

I came across this picture as I was cleaning my office. It made me stop and think for a while. It made me think how can the person in this picture, be the same person I see now? How can my mom, who loved to do crafts, paint, and write family letters, be the same person who can no longer do those things?

She would read and pray for an hour each day and can no longer read anymore. She would love to take walks and now, she doesn't remember how. How can they be the same person?!

This picture seems like a lifetime ago. It is hard to believe we are 7 years into this disease. I force myself at times to look at the old pictures and remember what she used to be like. It is so hard at times. I find those memories slowly fading and being taken over by who she is now. I also find myself seeing her in me lately. There are many times I can say to myself, "that is what my mom would say or do." It is not a bad thing. My mom was a wonderful, godly woman. I hope that I am like her. I hope that when loved ones and friends of my mom look at me, maybe they see her in me. She has always been a big part of my life. I think that is why I selfishly want to keep her around. I am afraid of the day when she is gone.