'Til death do we part...

I would like to introduce my in-laws.
This is their wedding photo from 1945. They live here with us. When today began, everyone was sure her days here were numbered. It was time to move her. Her care has been very difficult and it's become more than I can do. Hubby's brother and sister both now see the challenges we face. My biggest fear is injuring her. She has fragile joints and is six-feet, over two-hundred pounds. I am five-foot-five and shrinking. I can no longer support her weight to walk her to the bathroom or get her from the chair to the bed. I pulled something yesterday. Hubby told me not to feel guilty. I've cared for her for six years now and I've done my best.

Plans turned around quickly. They have been together for too long now. Even though he cannot bear to see her this way, he cannot bear to be apart from her. If we don't keep them here, he will move somewhere alone with her. Of course he's not able to care for her. That's just the tip of our fear...

Each of them have lost more than one immediate family member to suicide. Her brother, his sister, facing cancer... You get the picture. They are Christians and believe that God may not forgive them if they did such a thing. But before that, he made statements many times that, "When I can't take care of your mommy anymore..." And he meant it.

Diamond in the Rough

How do you like my stone stairway?

Ok, I know it needs a little work... I didn't put in anything for scale. These rocks are huge! I've had them for two years now. (Freebies) The new steps I put in go from my deck down half a flight and up to the pool. The bottom landing will turn off to go to the lower level, where there is a waterproof bathroom for the Grands when they exit the pool. It is the last side to begin landscaping, so I don't have many pictures. I'll have to make a point of shooting the 'before' mess. That end has been a storage area for my boulder collection, etc. Grand #2 comes Thursday. I don't think we'll have it done...

Life on the Funny Farm... is not funny.

Today has been an emotional roller coaster in the parent/child relationship department. Thank goodness I had a bit of strength return. I zapped the supply today!

After a slow morning, blogging, resting, watching the storm pass, I had to take my mom to her cardiologists. I'm in the kitchen, watching the clock, when I hear what sounds a little worrisome. M-i-L's aide was here for bath time. I didn't take the time to knock. "Do you guys need me in here?" I asked, as I pushed the bedroom door open.

There is M-i-L, F-i-L and aide, group-hugging in front of the dresser. I run to the group and try to help M-i-L to stand straight. Been there before. "Where's her belt?" Hidden in a bag. "I learned a long time ago that weight goes down easier than up. Let's just roll her down gently to the floor and I'll call the non-emergency number and get the gusto guys out here to pick her up." Everyone is in agreement.

It was a very gentle sit. No bleeding head this time, no broken bones. Knees bent farther than they probably should have. Clock is still ticking. The gusto guys remember her. She seems to be OK, so me and the twosome get her back into her lift chair, while the aide guides all the attachments. Not a day to walk. The bath will be in the chair. I am assured by the aide that I can leave. We hug and I do.

Mom's cardio is just a check-up and she passed. Then on to Urgent Care. PCP's on vacation and she has a little infection thing going on. So, might as well take care of it all in one trip. Two hours plus later, I'm dropping her off at her apartment and head to the drugstore where I tell them I'll be back later.

I've got to eat soon according to Rae's Weather Vane;) Phone calls come in while I'm heating up a left-over sub. As I talk and prepare, I notice F-i-L loitering in the hall. "Do you need me?" Yes. M-i-L needs to... well, you know. "I'll call you back..."

"Belt is on, OK, let's roll this thing up." Now things are going down. Hubby is gone, (probably wouldn't have made much difference) and the two of us can't get her switched over. She towers over me and is not thin. He is in his eighties.

So now I've got to convince her that what happens in that chair, happens. We're sitting down until help arrives. I start making calls. Finally B-i-L can be here in twenty.

This is his first time. Never before have I had to call upon him to do care-taking responsibilities for his mother. I know it had to have been hard. The role reversal was hard for me too with my mom. But he's a trooper. I tell him we have to hug her into bed where we can strip her from the waist down and replace her pretty silky things with more appropriate attire until this too shall pass. It's the only way we can keep her comfortable and clean until she can stand again. Maybe tomorrow. Her husband of over sixty years is not handling this well. She is a prideful woman. I have to remind her that until she can put down the pride, we cannot do the ministry God has for us here. We don't see her flesh. We see Mother.

This ordeal was quite a workout. The silky jams and sheets help to adjust her position, and finally she is properly protected and positioned in her hospital bed.

Later, after the morphine kicks in and she is resting, she looks at me with those eyes that no longer can produce tears, but redden all the same...

Her safety and comfort come top on my list. Her bones pull apart easily. Last years three-surgeries-in-a-row still haunt us.

When Hubby gets home, I fill him in on this evening's events. He is afraid that it is time. His father feels that way too. Maybe tomorrow she will walk. We'll see. But if she can't?

I don't know about the tears... I couldn't see through mine. But Hubby's eyes reddened all the same. And I'll get to the drugstore in the morning.

The upside of asthma...

Do these glasses make me look smart?

I'm a night-owl. No argument from anyone that knows me. I'm trying really hard to be a morning person, but so far it hasn't been working. Hubby's son & D-i-L now attend our first worship service. Hubby and I wanted to go with them. I've tried. A couple weeks ago I went again to the early service (9am) with Hubby. My pastor is not boring! Even the kids listen. But there I sat, fighting to keep my eyes focused. He always claimed he wanted to be hidden behind the cross. Well, he just flat disappeared a couple of times! I got the message, but not the sink-into-your-heart-and-remember-it-later got it... (Would it be rude to stand and stretch?)

So Hubby's answer? He'll stay for both. Forget it! We're old people. (Well, maybe just not in the greatest of shape.) I've told him that's too much on him, sitting that long. Besides, there are chores, animals... So yesterday, we met in the foyer as he left and I came in with my mom. Last night I told him I'd try again. I do want to go with him and his.


Grand #2 will be spending the summer and she's an early riser. When she spends the weekends, her and Papaw have conquered the world and are back inside cooling off by the time I creep into the living room. Living in the country, the only chance she has to meet some kids her age is at Sunday school. Yep, 9am! Plus, I've found a soccer day camp program at a nearby Christian University for her to attend, but she has to be there by 8:30! YES, in the morning! I hate driving in the dark... Oh, it's not dark? my bad

Well, I found the key! Not that I advocate drug usage to cram more time into your day, but it seems my nebulizer meds have this really strong side effect. I thought once I adjusted to the newly added one, this would subside - but no, it's worse! INSOMNIA! (BTW - Is it Monday yet?) Unfortunately yes, to answer your question - I am still up. But so is the sun and I'm ready to start the day. Too bad 'The Nurses Bag' is gone; I've got some questions...

I'm not judging you, but...

Today was magnificent! I made it to church for the most wonderful service. Still celebrating the upcoming birth of Grand #5 (or should it be #B1, with A1,2,3,4 the others? IDK) it brought me to tears to witness the special events today. Four graduates were honored before the congregation. All four were read to as they stood near the alter. The youth pastor read letters written by their fathers... Words like, "...when we first found out you..." and "...our little bean!" Thanks what Tim & Jessica call their long-awaited. And if that wasn't enough? Following the grads was a family for a baby dedication. The baby's name? Brody! Close enough to Brady to make me grab my next-to-last tissue!

Oh well... I know you're all ready to O.D. on my baby babblings. Back to the point of my post...

[Warning: If Jesus offends you, click the little x in the upper, right-hand corner. Or better yet, read on anyway...]

Friday, after Jessica 'delivered' (I love that word) the news, we were talking about church. I commented about some of the people that are there whenever the doors are open. (no names, not a gossip session - just opinions) Yes, we do need those dedicated people to keep things in order. But, (and again, I'm not judging) that's not what it's about folks! Remember the Great Commission? Did Jesus spend his every waking hour inside a synagogue? No! He went out! Out to where they needed HIM!

I am being judged. I don't know by whom, but I know it's happening. People know us. They look around at the small group gatherings and miss our faces. They have a BBQ and we're not there. They have the ladies lunch bunch. I made one. Men do a Saturday breakfast. I don't think Hubby's ever been. We've missed numerous prayer meetings and special events. I'm not saying we never go to them. We do. Some. Want to know the most horrible thing about me? I've skipped church because of reasons other than death. I KNOW!

Yes, Jesus clearly directs us to gather together. It is important to strengthen our faith. Our church family upholds us. They pray with us. They are so very important to me. It is hard to grow our faith in the world without a strong bond with our Christian sisters and brothers. 'Nuff said.

Pastor's sermon today said it all. He reminded us that, yeah it's great to come here, but that's not what it's all about. We come to be equipped... to go. On the Day of Pentecost, the followers waited. The Spirit came and filled them, giving them the ability to speak in all the tongues of the people gathered in the city. Not to communicate with each other, but to go out.

Now, I'm not bragging that I'm this 'pounding on doors, bringing people to the Lord' person. Far from it. I fall miserably short. I've missed many opportunities to witness about what God has done for me. But I've shared a lot. When I was a MySpace addict, many of my posts shared how God was moving in my life.

Our church purpose: "To turn people into passionate followers of Christ" Pastor reminded us this morning that we can't do that sitting in the sanctuary. And Pastor, if you're reading... "HONK, HONK!"

What's his name?

Sorry about bombarding you with all these new posts, but things are happening in every aspect of my life right now, and I'm just overwhelmed with the urge to share. Following is my attempt at humor, even though this is pretty much word for word.

Some background info: My F-i-L is named J.C. That's it. Just initials. Gave him problems in the Navy. Tim adores his grandfather - puts him on a pedestal as all should. He has said in the past that if he had a son he would name him J.C. Just initials! I have to side with Jessica on this one. Hey, call him Joseph Christopher or something...

So now they have told us a girl will be Isabella (lovely) and a boy will be Brady (very country-sounding to me - I like it).

So we sit down to dinner tonight, me, Hubby and the in-laws and, of course, the conversation immediately turns to the new baby...

J.C. beaming: "I told them what to name it - James Cecil..."
Lily interrupts: "They're not going to name the boy Cecil. It's not a popular name in this day and age. He would probably get beat up on the playground. Besides, they said a boy would be named Brady."
"Well, I knew a guy named Cecil..." J.C. rolls on and on...
Hubby interrupts: "I know a guy named Cecil, Who do you know named Brady?"
Me again: "I imagine the girls go to school with boys named Brady - not Cecil."
Hubby: "Who do you know named Brady..."