The past couple of weeks have by far been the hardest on this journey so far. I feel like my stress level has boiled over and I have lost all control of my sanity and composure. No less than a dozen times a day, I find myself screaming at an 82 year old dementia patient who couldn’t respond to my demands or expectations if she wanted to. I hate losing control of any situation, and the worst of all is losing control of myself. I know better. I know that she has a disease and 85% of the stuff she does, she can’t help. But, for the love, I have no idea how to keep from getting so frustrated and angry.

The one thing I was hoping to be a positive out of all of this was to teach my children about caring for your family. Treating your elders with respect and dignity. Honoring those we love. I wanted this to be a good learning experience for them. I am not teaching them many positive lessons right now. I hear the words my kids say to Gran and my skin crawls. Not so much because they are being kids and acting out of their own frustration, but because I know for a fact they are repeating learned behavior. They have seen me model impatience and disrespect. And, I hate myself for it.

Tonight I broke down in tears, I just can’t do this anymore, but I know we have to. We truly don’t have another option. Well, short of dropping her off at the police station and letting her become a ward of the state. And, although I know my salvation is secure. I feel like I’d be boarding the hell express for doing something so terrible. We truly need a Christmas miracle. We currently have Gran in daycare 2 days a week. And, she is much better the days that she is there. We’ve applied for some benefits that would allow us to send her 3-4 days a week. I’m calling a new facility tomorrow that is a research facility. I’m praying they have better pricing where we could afford to get her more care. I don’t know what the solution is, but I know we have to pray for a better one.

Grandmother prays daily for God to take her out of this world. And, honestly Jeff and I constantly question why in the world she has to continue to live like this. We’ve come to the conclusion that God is waiting on us to get our heart right. I want to have a joyful heart in all this, I promise I really do. But, being woke up all hours of the night takes its toll. I was a terrible newborn mom for this same reason. But, at least they were super cute, I knew it was just a phase and they would grow out of it. And, absolute worst case scenario I could just stick my boob in their mouth and we could all go back to sleep. Gran is not cute and cuddly anymore, she isn’t growing out of it, and let’s be real it would be totally awkward if I tried to nurse her. She wanders all during the day and we just pray she doesn’t get lost or walk into someone else’s house. It’s getting cold outside, she could get pneumonia fairly quickly. And, I worry that she’ll burn the house down. Today she put PB on bread and then tried to put it in the toaster. Thank goodness we were home. But, now I have to remember to hide the toaster on the days she is going to be home alone. I don’t think she tries to use the stove, but I still worry that she is going to burn the house down while we’re gone. And, I can’t even talk about how awful she is to the kids without losing my mind all over again. True, they aren’t super kind to her. But, for the most part “she started it”. If she ever connects her cane upside one of their heads like she tries to do, somebody is going to have to bail me out of jail.

I’m usually pretty good at saying don’t worry about us. We’re blessed to be a blessing. We’ve got this. We’re all good. It’s no big, I am superwoman and I can do everything. Tonight, I being brutally honest. I just can’t continue to go on like this. I’m mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. I’m praying and begging God for a better solution. I  don’t know what that is. But, I just pray for wisdom in knowing what to do next. The greatest Christmas gift we could receive this year is notice that some of the benefits we’ve applied for are coming through…..

Today I did an interview with a couple local writers who do a blog about inspiration/influential women in our community. One of my friends who thinks way more of me than she should told these gals I should be one of their people. I love meeting new people and just chatting over coffee or lunch, so I agreed.

We went through all the basics: where are you from, what do you do, who are your people, what influences you, what’s your favorite quote or scripture, how do you do it all…. As we were wrapping up, one of the ladies asked me, “What are your goals and dreams from here?” If you know me, you know I’m rarely speechless. But, this kinda caught me off guard. I didn’t really know what to say. All I could come up with was “to finish well.”

Then, as I drove to my next appointment I got all introspective on myself. What? No more goals, no more dreams? That’s awful! I do have business goals every year, and ideas of what I would like to accomplish. But, my thought around the table was, my life has already yielded more than I could EVER dream. If you had asked my smart-aleck, know it all, had the world by the horns, 18 year old self what my dreams were, it would have probably been something like this:

1)Dominate college

2)Travel the world

3)Move to a big city

4)Have a successful career

5)Have an awesome husband and adorable kids

6)Have a ginormous house

7)Own my own business

8)Maybe– do mission work. That probably wasn’t a dream until college though.

Check, check, check, check, check, check, check times three, and check. Seriously. By the time I was 35 I had accomplished more than all I had ever dreamed of having. Now, in today’s terms I probably wouldn’t consider my house ginormous. But, I remember thinking when I was in high school that one day I was going to have enough money to pay $250,000 for a house. I was going to have a house much bigger than the one I grew up in. Well, let’s just say our house costs significantly more than $250,000 and it is more than double the size of the house I grew up in. Is it the biggest, nicest house in town- not even close, especially in this town. But, it is more than I ever dreamed of having.

So, what now? Do I just quit dreaming because life has gone pretty well for me? Do I want my kids to have an attitude that you can do enough and quit. Well, it isn’t about quitting for me. If you know me, you know I’ve far from quit on life. But, all the things I dreamed about aren’t my focus anymore. I’ve learned to be content with having more than enough. My little life perspective change in February 2014 probably has a lot to do with that. But, this Earth is not our home. We’re just passing through, tending to the resources God has given us.

One of my biggest beefs with society is that it (society, media, peer pressure, etc) tells us that we can never have enough. Contentment is always just out of reach. If you achieve one goal, you need a bigger better goal. What if we quit focusing so much on bigger and better goals, and living out more elaborate dreams, and instead started focusing on being the best version of ourselves and serving and loving those around us well. My goals and dreams are now centered around giving more and doing more. I’ve had my hey day. I could die tomorrow and not be dissatisfied with myself or my experiences. I want to pass it on. Equip my children to achieve their goals and dreams. But, more importantly equip them to live out the life God has planned for them…..

Because for real people, if we are focused on our own goals and dreams, we aren’t dreaming big enough. People often quote Ephesians 3:20, but I really just love the whole 3rd chapter. God has bigger plans, bigger power, bigger dreams. So, go ahead and settle with what you’ve dreamed and be okay with achieving enough. Then, just sit back and ask God, “what’s next”?

Ephesians 3: 16-20

16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,

The first year she found out I was on the way to being the first Grandchild, my Paternal Grandmother started buying me Wallace Silversmith bells for Christmas. She passed away in 1999, but my Dad has continued the tradition of buying me the silver bells each Christmas. I now have enough to decorate my entire dining room Christmas Tree with just these silver bells.

Each bell has a different design with the year embossed on it. Each bell has it’s own specialized box marked with the year. Each bell is real silver. Real silver needs to be polished, pretty much each year. This year as I was taking the bells out, and lining them up by year I thought about polishing them. Then, I just looked at one of the tarnished silver bells. And, I thought this is me, this is us. This is beautiful. Tarnished, worn out, a little dirty, but worth absolutely no less because of it. Isn’t that the true beauty of why we celebrate Christmas after all? Our precious Savior came as a new born baby; bright, shiny, fresh, and perfect. Just like my new silver bell for this year. No blemishes, no flaws. But, that precious baby was born for the sole purpose of cleansing our tarnished lives. There is nothing so dirty, that He can’t make worthy. Just by submerging ourselves in His salvation (symbolized in our church by water baptism), we can be made new and bright. Just like I could choose to dip these tarnished silver bells in some cleaner and make them bright and shiny. But, you know what, I more often need the reminder that it isn’t my job to do the cleaning, submerging, or changing.

So, this year. My tree is decorated with some beautiful, fresh silver bells. Some bells have a few prints and spots on them, some are more tarnished than not, and some are just completely tarnished and dark. But, there will be no dipping and cleaning this year. I’m letting the bells hang as they are as a reminder that we’re all just hanging out in this world perfectly imperfect, tarnished and worn by the circumstances of life, waiting for the Savior to come and cleanse us. He’s got this, He’ll clean up our messes. We’re worthy, worth way more than pure silver hanging on a Christmas tree.

39 bells. One for every year since I was conceived. And two for my birth year, just for good measure.

Tarnished, but beautiful.

Sagging, tarnished, yet loved.

Bright and new.

All 39 Wallace Silversmith Bells on my dining room tree.

All the meteorologist have been telling us to check out this awesome “Super Moon”. The biggest since 1948, won’t happen again until 2034…. Well, praise the Lord for that. You see, I used to love the beauty of a full moon. And, a bright orange full moon that is really close to Earth- amazing. I could stare at it all night. Except one huge problem….. I live with 2 children and a dementia patient. You may be like me, before kids and a dementia patient. That person who thinks the moon’s cycles could not possibly have anything to do with mood cycles. Come on over my friend, let me just show you…. Super Moon = Super Crazy.

So, if you’re in my stage of life, sandwiched in between caring for 2 (not so) small kids and an 82 year old dementia patient, you pray that we never see another full moon, much less a Super Moon. There have been a few studies on the subject, and not many have been able to fully explain why a full moon has an effect on dementia patients. I’ll be real honest, I don’t care what scientist have figured out. Unless they have a solution, it doesn’t matter. I know what happens in my house. Wandering, increased anxiety, more confusion, verbal and physical aggression, and just down right paranoia. Oh, and my kids. Well, they’re a little off their rocker 70% of the time, complete angels 15% of the time, and down right crazy 15% of the time. And, that 15% of the time they’re crazy almost always just so happens to be during a full moon. I think any elementary school teacher would tend to agree…..

And, while I am lamenting about Mother Nature wrecking havoc on the attitudes and behaviors in my house, can we just talk about it being dark at 4:45pm? For real, serious. Again, dementia and darkness, bad bad bad news. Sundowners syndrome is for realz. I love June and July. I can go about my business, have a full day, and make sure I have Gran in bed before 8:45-9:00 with no real repercussions. Sun is out, we are all happy as a clam- well as happy as Gran knows how to be. But, when the sun starts going down, I go into “it is bedtime for Bonzo routine” like the Mad Hatter. If her head isn’t on the pillow by dark fall, I am going to need a seriously large glass of wine. Here’s the problem. It is freaking dark at 4:45. I can’t even get the kids from school, do dance carpool and fix a bologna sandwich before 4:45. So, I have at least an hour and a half of “It’s dark outside and Gran is still awake witching hour”. Right now, it’s not even 5:00 and I’ve been called everything but a white woman, swung at, cussed at, and told I should be ashamed for being such a terrible person. All because I haven’t been able to cook dinner, dose dinner medicine, and wait an hour to dose bedtime medicine. We went the wean you off medicines route and let Mother Nature control the outcome route. One problem…. the night doses of medicines are our “happy pills”. I didn’t think they were doing much good until she didn’t take them for a week. We’ll be having those….

So, I hope all of the rest of you fully enjoyed the Super Moon, because it has pretty much ruined my week.

I’ve not spoken about my political views online. I will not speak about my political views online today. I personally prefer to have those conversations with close friends who know my heart and will take the time to fully understand my position on the issues. People who disagree with me, I disagree with them, we have a legitimate conversation, and hug each other as we agree to disagree. I’ll preface the rest of this post by saying that my filter is not up this morning. Two hours of sleep isn’t enough recharge for my filter. So, maybe I’ll regret some of these things tomorrow. But, probably not.

But, I’ve seen some posts this morning that tug at my heart strings, and I can’t remain silent. Let me start by saying once again. Regardless of who is President of the United States, Christ is King. My safety, security, sanity, hope and joy are in no way wrapped up in who wins or loses the presidential election.

And, the posts about, “But, what do we tell the children?” At the risk of losing friends, let me just say if you think you need to say something different to your children based on who wins the election, you may be part of the problem. If you want the hate and shaming to stop, stop it in your own home. This great nation has had a lot of terrible presidents, and we’ve somewhat survived. He or she alone do not have the power to destroy this nation, or the hearts and minds of our children. So, here’s what I am telling my children.

First, Jesus Christ is King. I believe what the Bible says. “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. …” Romans 13:1-7. Regardless of who is elected president, God has got this. I will continue to pray for Donald Trump as our president and leader just as I would have prayed for Hillary Clinton as our leader. Above all, I will pray for our Nation and for God’s will to be done in and through me.

Secondly, our democracy worked. Regardless of what I think about the electoral college system, or the quality of the candidates that either party put forward; the system worked as it is currently designed to work. We had primary elections, we put candidates forward, and each one of us had an equal opportunity to go vote. The people voted, and Donald Trump won. As many people as are drastically upset about this, there are an equal number of people who felt he was best equipped to lead our country. I respect that system.

Third, regardless of what kind of person Donald Trump is, he is not the one that influences my children. There have been a lot of lying, cheating, stealing, abusive, and arrogant leaders in power before him. Not one of them had the power to shape who I am as a person, and he doesn’t have the power to shape my children. If I don’t want my son to be an arrogant, sexist pig that abuses women, I need to model appropriate behavior at home. I need to teach him to value women (and men for that matter), I need to teach him appropriate words to say to and about women. I need to teach him how to not be an ass. I need to surround him with a community of like minded people that will shape him into the man he needs to be. If I don’t want my daughter to be victimized by chauvinist men in our society, I need to teach her to respect herself. I need to make sure she is keenly aware of her worth in Christ, her worth to me, and her worth to this society. No one can make her feel inferior without her consent. It is my job to teach her how to physically, mentally and emotionally defend herself against the scum of the earth of this society that may try to exploit her. But, more importantly, I hope to teach her how to chose wisely the people she surrounds herself with, so that she won’t be in those situations.

Fifth, don’t believe everything the media tells you. Take information, evaluate it, check it for accuracy, and form your own opinion. You cannot and should not be dictated by a biased media one way or the other. Have a brain, use it. Don’t let the media tell you what is going to happen with the weather, with the election, or in the economy. You discover your own information. You know what is true. Be smarter than taking every word that comes through the internet or television as gospel truth.

Oh, what about the children and people that Trump is going to discriminate, hate and deport? Well, I hope I don’t have to say a word to those people. I hope I have already said what needs to be said to them, and more importantly loved them with the love of Christ. They should not doubt my support for them and love for them, and willingness to fight for them regardless of who is president. I can honestly say I have watched, and cried, and pleaded as my friends and employees have been deported on more than one occasion. I have watched parents ripped away from their children. And, friends, that has happened with both a democrat and republican in office. I know people who are afraid to share their religion because of the disrespect they will receive. If I feel the need to tell those people anything based the presidential election, I have already screwed that up. God has called me to love all his children and spread the compassion of Christ regardless of who is president. That conversation, more importantly, those actions, should have started long before today. Do I know people in this country illegally, yep. Do I tend to align with the Republican party, yep. Do I think they should all be departed, nope. The system is flawed. We need to figure out how to love and honor all people while having an immigration program that is safe. Shipping them off and building a wall isn’t it. But, we haven’t been doing “it” correctly for quiet some time. I have to do and say what I am called to do as a Christian, while being respectful to my government. But, I have and always will fight for the disadvantaged, the under privileged, the lesser of our society, those who don’t have a voice. And, that has nothing to do with the color of their skin, their immigration status, or their religion. So, please stop being part of the problem and spreading the fear gospel that because Trump has been elected these people are screwed or somehow less than. We should have been fighting for them long before now, and the fight for human justice must continue until His Kingdom comes and we are all sitting as equal heirs in Heaven.

So, parents, instead of worrying about what happens to our great nation over the next 4 years, let’s reset this process. One, model respect for your children. Start with honoring who America has elected as president. Two, show respect in your household to your spouse, to your children, to your neighbors and to those who just absolutely crawl under your skin. Three, take this opportunity to teach your children about our constitution, teach them about American history, teach them about what your core family values are. Make sure they know the issues, make sure they understand all the issues at stake. But, more importantly, make sure they know to pray about important decisions in life, and that they can trust God to be in control. Don’t teach your kids to hate our president or the people who voted for him or her. Teach your kids to be respectful adults who honor the process and fear the Lord their God. And, let’s all work together to move this great nation forward.

I’ve had these thoughts swirling around in my head for a couple weeks now, but just haven’t had time to sit down and hash them out. So, be warned, we may be here awhile. Actually, I’m sure I have lost half the thoughts I had. Anyway…..

A couple weeks ago I went to an IF Table Gathering at my church. If you’ve never heard about IF Gatherings, you should google it. Pretty amazing thing to be part of. But, for those of you who don’t care that much, here’s the general idea: A group of 6-8 women gather together each month over a meal and discuss 4 questions. We do life together, laugh, cry, think about how Jesus is moving in our lives and in our world. A couple times a year, we do one big gathering at our church where we all meet together. We had one such event a couple weeks ago. The general theme of the night was God redeeming all of our story for His glory. Three women gave their testimony about how some really crappy things had happened in their lives, and how they saw God work to restore it to good.

Part of the worship set we sang was “It is Well With My Soul”. I had to take a minute and ask myself if I truly believed the words I was singing. “When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know^a. It is well, it is well, with my soul.” To be quiet honest, there are many areas of my life over the past few years that I am not at all happy with my lot. When my sorrows like sea billows have rolled, it wasn’t well with much of anything in me- my soul, my physical, mental or emotional health. It has been during this time of most tribulation I’ve encountered in my life that I learned the back story behind the song “It is Well With My Soul”. Horatio Spafford penned this hymn in 1873. He was once a wealthy lawyer and real estate investor. In 1871 his 2 year old son died. Soon after, he met financial ruin after the Great Chicago fire which destroyed much of his investment property. He had further financial trouble hit during the economic downturn of 1873. He decided his family needed a break, and planned a European vacation for himself, his wife, and their 4 daughters. Change of plans, the wife and daughters went ahead of him. Their boat sank and only the wife survived. He received the news via telegram. On his way to meet up with his wife, he was inspired to pen the words of the hymn as he passed near the place where his daughters had died. So, what about my pity party!?! Life has sucked several days, but praise the Lord, we have not suffered financial ruin and my babies are happy and healthy (well, minus the one home today with strep throat).

When I sing the words to “It is Well With My Soul” what exactly am I proclaiming? For a long time, I thought I needed to be happy or joyful to truly sing “It is Well”. But, as I break down the lyrics, and consider the context in which it is written, I realize this isn’t really the case. In fact, I think my God is big enough to handle me saying, “I am completely, 100% totally pissed off right now. You are totally not working life out according to my agenda. My heart is broken. But, in the midst of it all, I know you are God. And, some way some how, I am going to muster the faith to truly believe you’ve got this under control.” So, things don’t have to be going well, for it to be well. My heart doesn’t have to be happy or even joyful for me to proclaim that it is well with my soul. As a verse states,

“Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.”

No matter what shall become of my earthly comfort, Christ has shed his blood for my soul. I’ve spent thousands of dollars on therapy trying to hold my crap together the last couple years. For those who know me well, know that there were some days I couldn’t even fake it until I made it. Because our lives had been relatively easy and stress free, with the exception of financial scare of 2008-2010, I had learned to stake my happiness and joy on my external circumstances. I accepted Christ as my Savior over 25 years ago; yet, even though I claim to let Him be, I’ve never had to make Him Lord of my life. To be honest, I didn’t need Him to do anything for me. I loved studying the word of God and tried applying it to my life. But, until you have experienced deep grief, sudden loss, a total change in lifestyle, lost your identity- I don’t know if it is truly possible to wrestle with the term “It is Well With My Soul.”

Some of you may think I am being a little dramatic here. Point taken, I have a flair for the dramatic. The basics of my story aren’t that terrible. Yes, my mom died suddenly, but I was adult. She met both of my children, they were old enough to know her and carry her memory with them. Yes, my grandmother with dementia lives with us. But, we have plenty space for her and flexible jobs. So much more was going on during that time, and other things have triggered out of that spiral. I lost my best friend, I lost other friendships, I lost the relationship with my sister, many family relationships have been strained. If I had enough strength to pack my bags during part of that time, I would have lost my husband and kids because I would have left. Even beyond that, so much was and has been going on. Living with a dementia patient has further rocked my world and cut to the core of my sanity. I am not proud of the person I am on many days as I don’t handle the situation or myself well at all times. But, here is what I do know. God is good. He has taught me a dependence on Him like I have never known. And, honestly had He not totally rocked my world on multiple occasions, I would never know the joy of this utter dependence. Because, my little perfect life, Williamson County living self didn’t need Jesus to make me happy. I had a great job, an amazing shoe salesman, and a gourmet coffee shop on every corner. There weren’t many problems that a good cup of coffee and a new pair of shoes couldn’t fix.

But, what about those moments where my money couldn’t make me happy. Let’s be real people. Money never made anyone truly happy. It can make you feel crappy in a better part of town with a cute outfit. But, money in and of itself can’t make me or you happy. Oh, but what about my kids. They’re cute, their smart, they’re talented; what about the times they screw up and can’t make me happy? Well, again, if I depended on my kids to make me happy, I’m in a sinking ship. If you could hear the shouts inside my house as we all try to get ready in the morning, you’d realize that as amazing and perfect as they are, my kids are not the source of my joy. Oh, yes, but I have a husband that loves me deeply. Yep, he’s amazing. Besides my mother, he’s the one who has consistently loved me when I was most unlovable. But, guess what- there are days when we don’t like each other very much. Friends, yes, I have some pretty cool friends. But, I have also had days of extreme loneliness where I felt like no one really got me. None of the amazing circumstances that make my life easier than most are a source of “It being well with my soul”. I can’t make it well. Nothing on this earth can make it well. My “wellness” is invested in my Savior, and the satisfaction of knowing that no matter what I have hear on earth, my true purpose and glory will be fulfilled in Heaven with Him.

Oh, what about this election, and the absolute udder mess that is going to be left? Us, self-employed, hard working, Bible believing Christians are sure to be doomed. Our nation is going to be doomed. Maybe, but doubtful. I certainly believe that we could learn a good deal as a nation by looking at the Roman empire. Heaven forbid we turn to the gospel as a nation for some good hearted advice. But, regardless of who is elected president. Regardless of what terrible policies are put in place. Regardless of what country makes us enemy number one, and regardless if we get blown to smitherenes- here is what I know. No matter who is President of the United States, Christ is King. Jesus is Lord. And, even if I lose it all tomorrow, IT IS WELL with my soul.

Dementia is a weird little animal. I posted a video article a few months back about how dementia progresses. And, although it is different for all people, there seems to be a general path. When people ask me how Gran is doing, it honestly is really hard to tell. She has good days and bad days. Some days she is better than others- some times it is brain function issues, sometimes it is emotional, some times it is physical. How I gauge the progression of her disease is monitoring the pieces that she is able to put together.

As with most dementia cases, Gran lost her short term memory first. She’s been able to talk about times from her childhood and early adult hood with great detail. But, she has no clue what she had for lunch. Today, we’ve noticed another missing piece….

We’ve been trying to get information together to apply for Veteran’s benefits to get Grandmother some additional assistance. So, I’ve had to gradually ask her questions about my Grandfather’s military service to complete the necessary paperwork. I can’t ask her too much at one time, because she gets overwhelmed and upset. Most of the time, she can answer basic questions, and has been able to give me some information. Over the last week, she hasn’t been able to answer as much. Today, I really needed some information to complete the process. I even called my Great Uncle to see if might remember. He didn’t know what I needed, so I was forced to ask Grandmother.

Our conversation went like this….

“Grandmother, where did PawPaw do his basic training?”

Who are you talking about?

“Your husband, my Grandfather. Do you remember where he did his basic training for the Army?”

I don’t have a husband.

“I know, you don’t have a husband now. He has passed away. But you were married to Glen Roberts.”

I have never been married to anyone. I don’t know anyone named Glen Roberts.

“Sure you do. Remember, y’all met in Cuba. He has brothers Larry and Gail. Y’all were married, and had a daughter, Pam. You lived on Brookhaven Street.”

No. I don’t remember that. I’ve never met a man worth marrying.

I had to stop. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit my quivering lip. In all this time, Grandmother has never forgotten being married to my Grandfather. It has always been the highlight of her life. That, and my mom. She loved them more than anything in this world. And, now she doesn’t even remember them. There have been times she hasn’t been able to remember my mom’s name. Often, she’s asked me what my dad’s name was. Sometimes, she doesn’t know my name. But, she’s never not remembered being married or having a child.

After I regained my composure, I gave her as many details as I could possibly think of to spur her memory. All she could come up with was, he sounds like a good man. I’m glad you knew him. This evening, that may all come back. But, based on the things that have been slipping away lately, I doubt it.

I don’t know what is more upsetting to me. The fact that part of her is missing, or that I’ve lost something too. My Grandfather was always my favorite. I held a pretty special place in his heart, and he was my main squeeze as a kid. The first life altering event I can remember was him dying on my 9th birthday. I’ve always kept his memory alive, and loved talking with my Grandmother about how amazing he was, the amazing life he provided for our family, and the legacy he left. My son bears his namesake. And, now it seems she’s lost that. And, if she’s lost the memory of my mom too, that’s just too much.

This disease is horrid. It just rips your life away piece by piece. As tragic as it was to lose my mom so young and so quick, I almost prefer that than to have watched her suffer with this. And, honestly, I’m glad my mom didn’t have to see her momma like this- losing her mind piece by piece.

Our world is just a little bit hectic right now. During the fall, Jeff and I usually start to slow down in our “work world”. Life in general is usually a little more relaxed in the fall. By God’s blessing, Jeff and I are both exceptionally busy right now with work. And, life in general is just hectic right now. Longer hours away from home, more to do while we are there.

With us being on the go more, Grandmother gets “worse”. Her attitude and behavior are worse, and her frustrations make her dementia worse. And, as her attitude gets worse, so does mine. I completely blew my gasket twice last week. Once, was really bad. I won’t repeat the episode here. But, let’s just say it left my 10 year old daughter saying, “Mom, I can’t believe that just happened, and are you sure you are still going to Heaven?” Also, just last week, Grandmother was wondering around the neighborhood and got lost twice. Thankfully, I have pretty amazing neighbors who guide her back home and call us to let us know what is going on. But, it is a risk. Our home health is no longer coming, so we are looking at other options.

Today, we are interviewing an adult day care facility. The expense is less that what a full time facility would be, but it give us up to 12 hours of care each day to ensure she is safe when we can’t be there. I can’t even begin to explain the thoughts circling in my brain related to all this. “How are we going to pay for this?” “What if she needs full time assisted living, how will we pay for that?” “Are we doing the right thing by seeking facility care?” “Will it make her worse?” “Will my kids get the message that when life gets hard it is okay to quit?” “Have we done too much damage to the kids already by having them witness all that goes down?” “Is God giving us the blessing to do something else? We knew it was His will to move her in. Is it His will to move her out?”

Really, it all is making me slightly crazy. In researching facilities I am also researching financial aid options available. Talking to Government Agencies is not for the faint of heart…. Just continue to pray for us as we take the next steps in dealing with Dementia care….

Apologies in advance, this may be a long, random, and scattered post. I’ve had about 5 different posts circling in my head for the last few days and no time to sit down and write. I wish I was one of those well organized bloggers with an outline and a plan. But, that’s not me. I just sit down and start talking with my fingers.

I’ll admit there has been a huge struggle going on lately between my head, my heart and my reality. The things I want to do, are not the things I am getting to do. My circumstances, just don’t allow me to be where I want to be. I’m desperately trying to embrace the here and now, and just be present in it, but it sucks sometimes. I’m currently reading “Present not Perfect”, to help me wrap my head and heart into where our life has called us for these moments. And, just resting and creating enough space to “be” and “accept” without running totally ragged on chaos. I very much encourage you to check out “Present not Perfect” by Shauna Neiquist.

There are 3 big areas of passion in my life, that I feel certain God created in me that are just void right now. I keep praying, God why did you ignite these desires and passions in my heart, yet not provide the opportunity for me to pursue them. I couldn’t work them out if I tried at this point. It’s just a big closed door. I pray, if this isn’t in your will, if I am just day dreaming up these passions and desires, remove them from my mind and heart. If you don’t want me using these gifts in the way I feel like I should, take them away. It is too heart breaking for me to continue to feel this way and not be able to do anything about it. Yet, my passion grows stronger. Things keep popping up to “confirm” these desires in my life. And, yet, my inability to act remains. The immediate demands of my daily life are keeping me from pursuing my hearts desires. I quiet honestly have no freaking clue why this is right now. But, I do know I ran into a lady at church on Sunday who I greatly admire for some work she has been doing, and she is in the same boat. She feels God gave her this ministry, yet the demands of her real life are holding her back. It’s just frustrating. So, pray for Molly, pray for me that in what we are called to do, we honor God in the waiting to fulfill.

One thing I have always craved is my “space”. It’s a hard thing to explain, and the space I need is often different. Most people would classify me as an extrovert. I make friends fairly easily, I’m loud and outspoken. I can speak in front of a group, and I love a good party. But, really, I’m more of an ambivert, if not a true introvert. I have many extrovert characteristics, but at my true core, I’m pretty introverted. I hate noise and “racket” and “chaos”. Nothing makes me happier than a quiet night home alone with a good tv show or book. When I come home from work at my very extrovert oriented job, I just need some space to be quiet. I don’t like the kids, Jeff or Grandma to bombard me with conversation or questions. Jeff and the kids have figured this out. They know to let mom come in, go to her room, change clothes, and be quiet for a minute. I’ll come back out, but I need a minute. Much like when my kids were toddlers, I now have to go to my room and sit on the toilet. Not because I need to poop for 30 minutes, but because before I can ever get in the door Grandmother is on top of me asking 500 questions, telling me what I need to do next, and telling me what has gone wrong. I. JUST. NEED. A. MINUTE. So, I go to my room, and I lock the door (which now has an actual keyed lock) and I sit on the toilet. We had to put a keyed lock, because she would pick the lock, come in anyway, open the bathroom door, and stare at me while I am on the toilet. Get outta my space.

Another space Grandmother has invaded is my cul-de-sac time. Moore’s landing has a pretty unique setup. All my friends and my neighbors friends always talk about how different our neighborhood is. It’s probably the reason our 5 year plan house will be our forever home. It’s just too good to give up. Anyway, about my space in the circle… This is just mom chill time. We’ve worked or adulted all day, came in and fixed dinner, took care of the kids, and we just need a minute or an hour, whatever. We often end the night with the kids begging to go inside and get ready for bed, and we’re like just 10 more minutes- play just 10 more minutes. Talk to the girls, bitch about life, and know it’s a safe place. The problem, Grandmother has realized how therapeutic circle time is. Circle time is also her new favorite time of day. She loves to chat and socialize with all the ladies. Umm, I was here first. I need my cul-de-sac time to complain about you driving me crazy; and I can’t complain about you driving me crazy with you sitting right beside me. Besides, I know none of the stories you are telling are true, and it just isn’t in my nature to not correct you. And, I am just weird about my neighbors thinking they have to entertain Gran. But, you know what is amazing about my neighbor’s they don’t mind at all. They are so good with Gran. Even nights I am not at home, they bring her out and chat. The other night, they had to bring her back in several times, and she just kept wondering back out. I feel so guilty for not wanting her there. Because, she desperately needs socialization. She sits home alone all day with no one to talk to. She watches out the window all afternoon just waiting for the first person to head outside. She bolts out that window with lightening speed when it’s circle time. So, for now, I’ve given up my space. I still go and hang. We have a great time, and I still visit and chat with my friends. It just isn’t my off time. Because, when Gran’s around I am always “on”.

Many times, people ask me how I do it, or how much longer I am going to do it. Well, at 6:15 this morning, I would have told you I can’t and that today was THE. LAST. DAY. Gran has been on a tear this week. More agitated and more worrisome than normal. It’s been a hard week. But, when I stumbled out of my bedroom door this morning, she was literally nose to nose to me. Despite my many threats, I have yet to install a coffee bar in my bedroom. So, nose to nose pre-coffee we are….. She lights in to me about 10 different things. None of which I really remember at this point as I hadn’t had my coffee. Everyone in this house knows to not even hug me or tell me they love me until I have at least smelled my coffee, drank half a cup preferred. It’s been a long week sister, just back your ass up and let me have a cup of coffee. Before 7:00am we have already had a shouting match. Yes, I know this is totally irrational on my part. I have absolutely no idea why I allow myself to get sucked into this. It’s like arguing with a 2 year old. Totally pointless, makes no sense, and by the time you’re done she doesn’t even know what you’re arguing about. Misty Woodford, keep your mouth shut. She tells me she has got to do something different because she can’t live like this anymore, and I say no freaking kidding, none of us can. I was DONE and DONE. If Jeff hadn’t been gone with a friend all day, I would have probably loaded her up and found her a nursing home. No joke. I just couldn’t take it anymore. But, sense he wasn’t home, I had two kids to take care of and who knows how long all that would take. I just locked myself in my room and folded at least 14 loads of laundry. It’s a miracle we still had clean clothes in our closets and drawers, because I haven’t folded clothes in over 2 weeks.

So, how much longer am I going to do this. I seriously don’t know. I keep saying not much longer, yet we keep relishing in the mercies of our Lord that are new every morning. I have no clue how we do this. It is all too much, it really is. At this point, I just pray I haven’t totally scarred my kids for life allowing her to live here. But, really, what else are we supposed to do. We still can’t afford an dementia care facility, she doesn’t qualify for any financial aide, and the $1200 a month she draws doesn’t pay for the $7000 a month facility. So, here we are. Just putting one foot in front of the other, praying for new strength for tomorrow, because we don’t have another choice today. But know this, I am not perfect, I’m not even amazing. I truly can’t do this. And, if wasn’t for the amazing Grace of God I would have totally screwed all of this up and be in prison to boot. I’ve got an amazing village to help me make it all happen. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

As many of you know, Grandma was supposed to have 2-4 toes amputated today. The plan was to take at least the 2 pinky toes on each foot, maybe the 4th toe as well. It’s been a long process. She’s battled infection for some time. Because of her heart condition, it isn’t necessarily advisable. Over the last couple months, it has become apparent that it is just a necessity. The risk of spread of infection is worse than the heart risk. So, we went through the approval process with her cardiologist and Medicare. Medicare approved the surgery, but not a hospital stay following. We haven’t felt comfortable with this decision. She can’t walk well under normal circumstances, she certainly won’t be able to walk well after foot surgery. But, we’ve just been praying about it and trusting that God would work it all out as intended. And, we had a plan. Should she fall coming out of surgery, she could go to rehab to help her regain her ability to walk…..

Surgery was scheduled for 12:45. We arrived at 12:15 and they took her back almost immediately. After looking her over, checking her vitals, and prepping for the surgery, the doctor called me back. Her feet were very swollen today, her vitals weren’t great, and she just didn’t look good. In addition to that, she has developed a pretty significant infection in the 2nd toe, yet the 4th toe has cleared up some on the right foot. All things considered, the doctor said his gut was just telling him today was a “No go”. I just breathed a heavy sigh of relief. I must say, Jeff and I both weren’t feeling great about today’s surgery. Again, no specific reason, just a gut feeling this wasn’t a good thing. So, we cancelled the surgery. We met for a little while and regrouped on the plan.

Grandma will see her heart failure cardiologist on Thursday for her big annual check up. This will include an echo, EKG, and stress test. Also, a pretty thorough check-in regarding her overall situation. We’ll talk to him about her bone infection, the threat to her heart and body from the infection, and the risk of surgery. Again, nothing we are doing at this point is about prolonging life, just improving quality for the time we have. Based on our visit on Thursday, we’ll have more information about making a decision to reschedule. The doctor is also submitting an approval request to medicare to take toes 2 and 5 instead of 4 and 5. I like this plan better. Toe 2 provides her no stability as it is hammer toed on top of toe 1 anyway. This will require we do each foot on separate occasions, so 2 surgeries instead of 1. But, I just feel like this is a better option for pain relief. I also feel it will help with infection as it provides space for the toes, and still removes the bones that are compromised.

I’ve learned more about toes, hearts, and healthcare systems than I ever cared to know. But, I’ve also learned that my God always provides. Today, I’m thankful our doctor’s gut was inline with mine. Which, I know to be an answer to prayer. Thank you again for lifting us up continually. One. Step. At. A. Time….