"How Old Am I?" {Mother Turns 73}

If there's one thing my mother's descent into the darkness of Alzheimer's disease has taught me, it's to be more conscious of the significance of each day, each month, each year of life with those we love and to be grateful for the gift of these times together.

Times like birthdays, for example.  :)

So as my mother's 73rd birthday was approaching, I looked forward with great joy to having her here in our home with us to celebrate!  

It was really fun to prepare a special evening for her: to make from scratch an angel food cake, to cook other foods that I knew she would especially like (ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry salad, dill beans), to get a special gift wrapped up for her.  Even if her Alzheimer's would steal the memories of that celebration away from her, the rest of us would still carry them in our hearts, and all the effort was more than worth it.

As it turned out, my mother was chipper and lively that evening, and she seemed to enjoy everything very much.  

When she and Dad got to our house, they had some time to interact with the kids while I was finishing getting supper ready...

...and time with grandkids is pretty good therapy for a memory-challenged grandma.  :)

After we prayed and sang happy birthday to her, we asked Mother if she wanted to open the cards and gift then or later.  She was indecisive and could have gone either way; but as you can imagine, the boys wanted her to open things right then!  :)

It wasn't hard to convince her, and they oh-so-helpfully carried the gift bag to her and supervised the opening of the present and the cards.  ;-)

When I was thinking what to get her, I had the idea to get some of the pictures Emily Sacra took for us in August printed up and put in frames that she could hang on her wall in the nursing home.

I LOVE how they turned out...

...and I love how Mom reacted when she saw the picture in the smallest frame.  It was one of Dad kissing her, and she broke out in a hearty laugh and said something like, "Now this is the best one!"  :)

I also love that my boys are so affectionate with her and got to shower her with love on her special day.

One thing that Jeff and Dad and I all noticed (and discussed among ourselves later) was that Mother didn't read her birthday cards--and maybe that word "didn't" should be "couldn't."  Has she lost the ability to read?  Not too many months ago, I took some short little videos of her reading the special blog post I wrote for my parents' 51st anniversary back in June because I wanted to preserve the sound of her voice and the inflection she used as she read aloud.  Has she declined so much in that amount of time that she really can't read any more?  Or was she hesitant to do it because of all of us here who could hear her?

For whatever reason, when she pulled Dad's card (which had really beautiful, meaningful words on it, by the way) out of the envelope, she glanced at the front of the card, then opened it without reading all the words.  A little later in the evening, Dad kind of prompted her again to read the card from him, but again she didn't.

When she opened the card from the kids, she asked, "Who is the oldest child here?"  And when Josiah responded that he was, she told him (nicely, of course) to read it aloud.  And the card from Jeff and I went unread as well.  Looked at and admired, but unread.  That stood out to us as being unusual.

Another thing I noticed is that quite a few times during the evening, she asked, "How old am I?"  We would tell her; and once when we did so, she remarked that 73 seemed pretty old.  ;-)

Here are better pictures of our gifts to her...

...and every time I see them, I am SO GRATEFUL all over again that we had that photo shoot with Emily.  :)

One other thing stood out to me on her birthday: she called me by name.  I suppose every caregiver for Alzheimer's patients wonders when their loved one will lose the ability to call them by name; and I find myself listening for her familiar voice to say "Davene" when we're together, treasuring up the remembrances of these moments in preparation for the days when she will no longer say it.  Sometime it will be the last time; but now at least I know that when she turned 73, she could still call me by the name she and Dad chose for me more than 38 years ago.

A year can bring a lot of changes, and only God knows how things will be for my mom when she turns 74.  But no matter what lies ahead, I'll be grateful that we got to celebrate this 73rd birthday with her.  It was an evening of joy for her, and her good spirits gladdened my heart as well.

What a gift!

Clutter, Be Gone! {Wedding Napkins}

This is what my wedding napkins looked like.

  Some were white with navy blue lettering; some were navy blue with white lettering.

 I loved them.  They were perfect in my eyes.

Now that we all know what they looked like...and now that my grandchildren and great-grandchildren will someday be able to look at this post and also know what they looked like...can we go ahead and use them all up now, rather than letting a stack remain in my kitchen cupboard "for posterity"?

Yes.  Yes, we can.  And we are.  And we will.

Until they are all gone.

Because using up and throwing away all the wedding napkins does NOT mean using up and throwing away the marriage.  ;-)

Clutter, be gone!  :)

Moriah's First Refrigerator-Worthy Art

At the ripe old age of two and a half, Moriah has decided to take up art.  On a daily basis, she goes to the drawer where we keep paper and pulls out a piece, then goes to the homeschool closet and gets out the colored pencils; and then starts doodling.  What's even better is when she hears her brothers asking for a coloring picture to be printed from the computer; she eagerly requests--and receives--one, too.

With having a new dog in the house, I've been fielding lots of petitions for dog coloring pages.  Tobin colored one like a patchwork quilt, which I thought was creative and nicely done.

And Moriah?  Well, you can see her style of art.  ;-)

It was fun to put her picture on the refrigerator to be admired by everyone--the first of many works of art she'll grace us with, I have no doubt.  ;-)

Here is the little artist herself this morning.  When I looked out from the kitchen and spotted her on the porch, I grabbed the camera.

 And when she looked up and saw me watching her through the window, her eyes brightened...

 ...she waved...

 ...and then showed me that she was using a marker.

She isn't really supposed to have free reign with the markers, but she is getting more responsible with them, so I let her continue using them.  So what if her hands get some marker ink on them; it will eventually wash off.

It's the price of creativity.  ;-)

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday {Favorite Salt & Vinegar Chip}

So vinegary it makes my lips pucker.

Which is a good thing.

Because if you're going to be a salt & vinegar chip, you might as well be A SALT & VINEGAR CHIP and not an ordinary chip with a tiny bit of saltiness and vinegariness.

Agreed?

;-)

Shattered Hearts, Strong Faith

When we snapped this picture on that Thursday morning back in April, the last day of my uncle, aunt, and cousin's visit with us, we had no way of knowing that we would never be able to take such a picture again.  

No one could have guessed that one who was standing with us then would, half a year later, depart from this world into the next.  And even if we could have known that one of our number had only six months left to live, we never would have believed that it would be him.

Uncle Jay.

The one who held Moriah so much during that visit.  The one who pushed my boys on the swings in the springtime air.  The one who stood with Jeff in our garden and probably planted a few things himself.  The one who held out his arms to Moriah on the trampoline, and she came to him, and he lifted her down so gently.  The one who sat around our table and ate with us and slept beneath our roof and talked with us and laughed and teased and shared his heart and his thoughts with us.

When Aunt Joyce told me they were coming, all the long way from British Columbia, I knew it would be a meaningful trip; but my thoughts were steered in the direction of the significance of this visit because of my mother's worsening Alzheimer's disease.  I didn't have any idea--no one did--that it was a farewell trip of sorts for my uncle.

************

When my dad called me early yesterday evening, I didn't think anything of it since it's common for him to call just to check in, so I asked him about how Mom was when he took her back to the nursing home after her meal with us earlier that day, and our talk centered around her.  But at some point, Dad told me that Aunt Joyce had called him that afternoon.  My first thought was that she was checking in to see how things were going for my mother, her sister; but then Dad told me that she called to tell him that Jay died.

I thought for sure my hearing must have suddenly given out, or maybe my brain had misfired, because I COULD NOT COMPREHEND that Dad was saying what I thought he was saying.  Uncle Jay died?  Impossible!  He wasn't even sick!  He's not that old!  He's strong and healthy and...and...

...THERE IS NO WAY MY UNCLE JAY DIED.

But then he told me that Uncle Jay had been riding a quad while on a hunting trip, and had apparently run into a hole, and the quad had overturned, and it had landed on Uncle Jay, and he didn't return home on Saturday evening, and his family had looked for him but couldn't find him, and the next morning when it got light they set out again, and his son Ethan found him, and...

...UNCLE JAY DIED.

I couldn't believe it.

Sometimes I still can't.

There's the strangest sense of unreality that wells up at times when I think about all of this.  Have you ever read a book in which someone dies, but someone else has a hard time believing it, and they half expect the deceased to walk in the door, whistling merrily, and telling them that it was all a mistake?  That's sort of how I feel.

~ Uncle Jay and Mark with Josiah, David, and Tobin...at my birthday lunch at Aroma restaurant...April 1, 2014 ~

************

As soon as I said goodbye to my dad, the tears started pouring forth, and I couldn't even take the few steps right away to hang up the phone.  I knew the rest of my family was waiting anxiously to hear the news, but I couldn't make my mouth and voice cooperate to get any words out.  They were patient as I pulled myself together enough to choke out the words; and then I grabbed a tissue box, sat down on the couch, and cried and cried.

Just then, the phone rang again; and it was Betty, the wonderful sister of Uncle Jay (remember her from her visit with us back in February?).  I literally couldn't talk, so Jeff answered and talked with her...and still I wept.

After my first wave of tears was spent, we spent some time hugging and snuggling as a family, talking sometimes and being silent sometimes, comforting the boys as they each expressed emotions in their own way.  That evening, Tobin cried the most; but each felt the loss and lamented.  We also talked about the splendor of heaven and what Uncle Jay might be doing at that exact moment--perhaps talking to King David or Josiah, or maybe Daniel or Ezra, or Noah, or his in-laws (my grandparents) or other family members who had gone before, or just enjoying the presence of God.

Jeff was making no-bake cookies when the call came, and I had been eager to eat some; but after I heard the news, I didn't feel like eating anything, so I waited until much later before I sampled Jeff's cooking (which was delicious!).

There was an extra measure of tenderness between us that evening, as we felt the pain and loss together and as we appreciated each other more.

~ Uncle Jay showing a new scope to my boys...during their visit to Virginia back in April of 2012 ~

************

The day before (which would be Saturday), I had felt such a heaviness in my spirit, beginning about the time I woke up from a nap that late afternoon (I had gotten very little sleep the night before and had been grateful to have some time to nap after Tobin and Shav's soccer game and David's gymnastics class).  But when I woke up, I was feeling grumpy and blue; and that mood persisted all that evening and night and the next day, too--no matter what I did to try to snap myself out of it.  I tried to analyze what was going on and what was causing it; and although I came up with some interesting possibilities for the source of my low spirits, I'm not sure my answers were exactly right!

I don't know how all of this works, but is it possible that somehow my spirit sensed the peril that was soon to befall Uncle Jay and the grief that was to come for the family?  That sounds really weird.  It probably IS really weird.  But for that period of time, for whatever reason, my mood was unaccountably low.

~ Uncle Jay, Aunt Joyce, Mom, and Dad...April 2012 ~

************

Saturday night, as my Canadian family searched for Uncle Jay, another search was going on--this one in the mountains of Colorado for a 13-year-boy named Clayton.  He's the friend of someone I know only through blogging; but when I saw her post a prayer request on Facebook for him, I immediately started praying for his safety during that cold, snowy night and for his quick return to his family.

Two people out in rugged terrain on the same cold night.

One walked out alive.  The other did not.

If it had been a choice--which it isn't at all--I know Uncle Jay would have said, "Lord, take me.  Spare the life of that 13-year-old boy."

~ Uncle Jay and Aunt Joyce happened to be here for David's 7th birthday, and it made the celebration extra special to have them with us...during their April 2012 trip ~

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Late Sunday night, I threw on a jacket, put a leash on our new dog Willow, and took her outside for a bathroom break.  I shivered, and thought, "Brrrrr, it's cold."  And then I wondered how cold it had been when Uncle Jay's accident occurred, and whether he had had to lay there for a while, getting colder and colder before he walked through death's door into the brilliant warmth of heaven.  And my heart broke a little more.

************

~ my mother's side of the family in 1986...Uncle Jay is in the back wearing a red tie...all three of my grandparents' children were there along with their spouses and nine of their ten grandchildren (only my sister Donna was missing) ~

My parents were the ones responsible for Aunt Joyce marrying Uncle Jay--their only successful match-making experience, I believe they would say.  But what a success!

I wondered how my mother, in her diminishing mental capacity, would take the news and was eager to hear Dad's report after he visited her today.  When he told her about Jay dying, she apparently got teary-eyed; but it's so hard to know how much she understands about who Joyce is and who Jay is.  Certainly, she will most likely have forgotten the news by the next time Dad visits her; in fact, she might have forgotten it a minute or two after he said it - who knows?

But I did find it interesting that at some point in their conversation, Mother asked Dad, "Was it Jeff?"

(Speaking of Jeff, here are his thoughts soon after hearing the news about Uncle Jay.)

************

Throughout this long day of mourning, one of the thoughts that runs through my head often is this: What a gift it was that Uncle Jay could make that trip back in March and April of this year!  They stopped at a number of places along the way, spending sweet moments of fun and fellowship with his two daughters (who each live in different places in Canada), his brothers and sisters, numerous nieces and nephews, and various other loved ones.  What a gift for each of us that we were able to see him in person, talk with him, take lots of pictures, and hug him before sending him on his way to the next place.  I am so, so glad for that--not only for myself, but also for the many others who love him and who were able to enjoy the pleasure of his company for one last time here on this earth.

One tidbit from our conversations during that visit stands out to me.  Jeff and I were asking about the history of their ranch in Canada and, more importantly, their own family history--when they made the move to British Columbia, why they did it, what they see as the future of their small communal farm, and so forth.  Uncle Jay, Aunt Joyce, and my cousin Mark patiently answered our questions, sharing their recollections from the past 40+ years; and we listened eagerly to all they said.  But the best part?  Uncle Jay expressed so much contentment.  While acknowledging that things with the ranch had not turned out exactly as they had anticipated, he said that it had been a good life and that he was so grateful to have raised his children there and that he didn't regret making that move at all, etc.  Peace and contentment and thankfulness dripped from his speech like sweet honey from a honeycomb.

His words revealed the soul of a man filled with gratitude, a soul at rest, the soul of a man who, although he didn't live as long as we would have liked, lived well.

Oh, he lived well.

And that's what makes it so hard to say goodbye to him.

I'm confident we will meet again.  I'm certain that this farewell is not forever.  But I'm not at all sure how the gap he left behind will be filled.

That, of course, is where faith steps in.

O Lord, increase our faith!  How we need You now!

Clutter, Be Gone! {Cross-stitched Bookmarks}

While going through some of my mom's sewing stuff recently (since her move to the nursing home, she won't be needing sewing things anymore--not that she had been able to use them for a long time before that), my dad unearthed these and gave them to me.

 They are counted cross-stitch bookmarks that my brother David and I made at some point during our childhood.  It looks like we finished all the stitching, but never accomplished making it into a bookmark.

When my kids saw them, they declared that no offense, but they liked Uncle David's better than mine.  :)  No offense taken.  :)

Since my initials are no longer DGH, I decided to take a picture, post it on my blog, then throw the bookmark away.  I emailed my brother about his, and he declared that he had plenty of bookmarks and I could toss his in the trash as well.  Done!

Clutter, be gone!  :)

When Internet Friends Become Real

I'm not sure when Rebekah and I first started reading each other's blogs, but it was definitely during the days of my old blog.

So, YEARS ago.  :)

But regardless of when we first "met" online, I know very well when we first met in real life.

Yesterday.  :)

She and her husband Daniel were vacationing with his family in Virginia and kindly made time in their schedule to drive here from Williamsburg, just so they could visit us.  I was thrilled to meet them in person, after years of reading Rebekah's thoughts, praying for her challenges, and being inspired by her lofty goals.  I've seen her grow up--from a single woman to a wife--and I'm especially excited because Rebekah is expecting their first child, and I'm eager to watch her transition into the role of a new mother.  Such special times!  :)

When my boys learn that guests are coming, one of their biggest hopes is that those guests will play a game with them.  :)  Sure enough, Rebekah and Daniel were good sports and allowed themselves to be dragged into a (very!) long game of Uno after our supper yesterday.  As a matter of fact, nobody actually won the game, since it had to be halted due to the lateness of the hour...but Tobin was quick to tell me that he had the least amount of cards in his hand when they stopped.  ;-)

 I loved how Moriah climbed up into David's chair and made room for herself there.  :)

 Meanwhile, Jeff was entertaining Shav in the living room by making funny faces, bringing forth peals of laughter from Shav.  :)

 Moriah decided Daniel's lap was a pretty good place to hang out, too.

 Daniel had just a few cards at this point in the game.  ;-)

 Shav was particularly excited about Daniel being here because Shav's middle name is Daniel, and he jumped at the opportunity to have a "The Daniels" picture, after watching his big brother David have a special picture taken with Uncle David every time we get together.  Moriah barged right into some of the photos though.  :)

 We added a third Daniel: the one in the painting done by my extremely talented father-in-law.  :)

 

 I wish I had thought to get a group picture when Jeff was home, too; but unfortunately he had already left for work when we took this.

 I'm so very glad that Rebekah and I got the chance to meet.

Now when I read her blog, I'll be able to hear her voice in my head!  :)

Thanks, Rebekah and Daniel, for making us part of your Virginia vacation.  Come again anytime!!  :)