She Speaks In Her Silence

(I wrote this for my mom for Mother's Day. I read it to my parents and my siblings after our Mother's Day lunch together. I thought I would share it here.)

At 6:25pm on Friday, September 6, 2013, my mother lost her ability to speak due to brain damage from a stroke. I was blessed with a phone conversation with her only four hours before. We talked for thirty-three minutes and thirty-one seconds. The phone call was cut short because of friends that stopped by to visit my mom. I don’t remember everything we talked about that day. I wish I did. I do remember I tried to sound like I knew something about Iowa State football and she laughingly pointed out I was wrong. Mom is an avid Iowa State sports fan. While I am an Iowa State grad, I don’t really care about sports. I wonder what we would have talked about if we knew that was the last time she would be able to talk to me.

Since that Friday night, Mom has not been able to speak words. But still she speaks in her silence. I can still hear the exclamation I received later that week in September when I walked into her hospital room and the even louder sounds when my son and daughter have been to visit. There have been times when Mom looks me in the eye and I can see very clearly that she is saying, “I love you”. She can nod her head to indicate yes, and she can shake her head to indicate no. A couple of months ago I was sitting with my husband and my dad in the living room turned bedroom at my parents’ home. The three of us were having a pretty serious conversation about some hard stuff I have been struggling with. The conversation went long into the night, long after Mom had been helped into bed for the night. Several times we asked her if she wanted us to leave so she could go to sleep. Her answer was a quite definite shake of her head “no” even though she had her eyes closed. So we stayed and talked. Mom listened. When we finally decided we better go to bed, I went around to my mom’s side of the bed to tell her good-night. She reached up to me with her left arm to give me a big hug and said “Awwww”. In that sound I heard and in her eyes I saw, “I’m sorry you’re struggling, Judy. I love you and I feel bad for you.”

She speaks in her silence.

I pray for her to regain her speech at some time just so my dad can hear her voice say and “I love you” or “thank you” or just his name.

She listens to conversations around her and will even chuckle at something funny. I’ve witnessed her outright giggling at my dad. That was an awesome moment.

Since that night in September I have remembered numerous conversations from the past with my mom. I remember the things she taught me as I was growing up.

She taught me to love family through her loyalty to her husband and us kids. My devotion to my own family is rooted in this.

She taught me how to do my profession of a homemaker. She taught me how to clean, sew, read recipes, have good manners, how to set a table, how to cook and bake.

Most importantly, she taught me about Jesus. She taught me that studying the Bible never grows old. She has participated in Bible studies ever since she became a Christian during her college days.

In all these things I still hear her voice in my head. I hope I never stop even after Jesus calls her home.

I miss her phone calls. I miss her saying, “I love you”.

But…

She Speaks In Her Silence.

…and I am grateful.

Christmas With Mom and Dad

The first Saturday of this month my side of the family got together to celebrate Christmas. There were 27 of us total. Four generations. Everyone was there (except a nephew who was taking the SAT test), sisters, brother, in-laws, nieces, nephews all the way down to my parents' six great-grandchildren.

This was a Christmas celebration that I both looked forward to and dreaded. This was the first Christmas since my mom's stroke. One thought that went through all of our minds after Mom's stroke, I think, was that Christmas will never be the same. Mom always made Christmas special. Always. From the traditional foods (Spritz, Potato Bologna, Fruit Cake, Pecan Dreams, Swedish Brown Beans, Swedish Rye Bread, Mashed Potatoes, etc...), to decorating every single room in their house, to the mantel with 29 stockings, to the schedule for the evening: everyone assigned jobs to help get the meal on the table, eating a wonderful, abundant meal, washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen (this added much to the drama of waiting, but we did it this way all my growing up years), then finally getting to open presents.

My dad was able to reserve some nice rooms in the home where my mom is living right now. We did our best to carry on with some of the traditions, namely the Christmas stockings. We were able to hang them all up across the bar in one of the rooms. They were quite the sight:

My oldest niece is a cosmetologist. She and her mom (my sister) picked out a pretty Christmas sweater for Mom and put some make-up on Mom and fixed her hair very nicely. I thought she looked so very pretty. Here is Mom and Dad together:

 I love that Mom is able to give a full smile and not the half-smile she gave three months ago.


We all enjoyed lunch and dinner together. 

I brought some Swedish Potato Bologna for Mom. She has made it for Christmas every year for as long as I can remember. One of our local grocery stores makes it and sells it through the holidays.

 It's so good to see Mom feeding herself. She manages a lot with her left hand and is able to eat mostly regular food. Dad helps her with each meal.

This little one (one of my niece's twins) was being kind of fussy, so Hubby took her and sat down at the piano and starting playing. She sat there for the longest time listening. It was sweet.

My wonderful, dear, sweet husband prepared his own gift for his mother-in-law. He spent a month looking through his piano music picking out hymns to play for my mom.  Mom has occasionally hummed along to a familiar song and he wanted to gift her with well-loved hymns to trigger that part of her brain.

We gathered in one room and sang together.

As we were singing some Christmas songs, I watched Mom. At one point I saw her mouthing the words to O Come All Ye Faithful!!! Mom doesn't say any words. She readily shakes her head "no" and with some effort can nod her head "yes", so to see her forming words was just amazing! I was so taken up in the moment, that I didn't get a picture or video. Nevertheless, I will never forget that moment! Never.

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him, born the King of angels

I am so very thankful that my mom is one of those Faithful.

Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad. I love you both!

Pie

My sister and brother-in-law took my mom to the chapel service in the home where Mom is staying. I slept in a little and we met Mom in her room when they got back from the service. Dad came shortly after that when he had finished up with some things that their church he needed to do. When Dad took mom to eat her lunch, the rest of us went to a little cafe in another part of the home.

I will just go and say right now that even though the sandwich was very good, the pie was the best part of lunch. Of course. I knew it would be. How? My son-in-law's mother made it. She owns and cooks and bakes at a little tearoom restaurant about 45 minutes away and once a week brings pies to the home where Mom is staying. Such a fun connection.

As always, it was hard to say good-bye to Mom.

I am thankful for...
...Lemon Meringue Pie
...lunch conversations with family
...another frozen yogurt stop on the way home
...a quiet Sunday night at home
...God's never-ending, constant, powerful, life-changing love
...my mom
...my dad

A Saturday With Mom

Hubby and I spent today with my mom. My dad wanted to go to a football game with my sisters, but was very hesitant to leave Mom all alone all day. He has been with her every single day (10-12 hours a day) since she had the stroke on September 6th. Hubby and I volunteered to spend the day with her. It went pretty well, but it was a hard day, too. I could tell Mom missed Dad and I am not very good at reading Mom and what she is trying to communicate. (Dad is amazing at that.) We helped Mom with lunch. I gathered the food for her and she fed herself. She has greatly improved with being able to feed herself. So much so, that earlier this week she had her feeding tube taken out!

We brought a few things with us to occupy Mom. We had a stack of catalogs with us (all the catalogs in the mail are a good indication that Christmas is coming soon). I gave Mom a couple and she paged through them and looked at all the pages. It's good to see she knows what to do with something like that and seemed to be interested in the stuff on the pages. 

I had made my Dad some Swedish Rye Bread (Mom's recipe) and brought a piece for Mom to snack on. I took the baggie it was in out of my purse and she made a noise that indicated she knew what it was and ate half a piece and said something like yum. That was so fun to watch. 

I also brought my laptop and some of our old home movies that we had transferred to DVD several years ago. She and I watched that together. I heard her chuckled a few times at the silliness of my kids and their cousins.

I am thankful for...

...my mom's chuckles

...Mom's version of "Hi" when she first sees me

...my dad being able to get away for the day even if it was hard for him to be away from my mom

...old home movies

...a late night talk with my sister

What I Believe

Whenever there was a Billy Graham special on TV when I was growing up, my mom watched it. When my mom was in college at Iowa State University, she went to a Billy Graham crusade in Des Moines. There she gave her life to Christ. I am so very grateful for that. If she hadn't, would she have married my dad? If she had married my dad but not been a Christian, what kind of a childhood would I have had? I suspect it would be so very different from what how I did grow up.

Yesterday was Billy Graham's 95th birthday. There is a message from him floating around Facebook via YouTube. I embedded it here. Listen to it.



A quote from the video:

The almost overwhelming thing is to think that Jesus became sin and it was my sin and it was things that I've done that held Him on the cross. He hung naked on the cross, bleeding in a shameful way so that I would never have to be ashamed for the things that I have done. The truth is, there is no other way besides Christ and what He did. There is no life outside of that. There is no other way of salvation except through the cross of Christ.

I am thankful for...

...Jesus Christ taking on sin for me

...salvation

...the hope of Eternal Life with God

...the Christian parents that raised me 

...growing up learning about the Bible, about Jesus, about God's love for me

I Love You in Sign Language

 

I know this isn't a very good picture. We'll just establish that I am no good at "selfies" whether it's of my face, or whether it's of my left hand. I think you have to be of a certain age to be good at taking a picture of yourself and I am waaayyy beyond that age. ha.

Friday afternoon Hubby and I took off for Iowa to spend the weekend with my mom and dad. It had been two weeks since I last saw my mom. (Six weeks ago, Mom had a stroke that took away her speech and her mobility on her right side.)

Mom has been on a rehabilitation floor of the hospital for about three weeks.  I was very amazed at the change I saw in my mom. 

Today I saw her physical therapy session and saw her sitting up unassisted and she seemed pretty steady. I remembered back about 4-5 weeks when she first tried sitting on the edge of the bed for five minutes and would keep leaning over and was very unsteady.

Overall she seems much more alert. She tries to say something, but mostly vowel sounds come out and we don't understand what she is saying. Frustrating to her and to us. 

She gives big smiles when family comes in and it's not totally lopsided. She's learning to nod her head "yes". She's good at shaking her head "no". 

She is feeding herself and doing a really good job. She doesn't want any help and is clear about that. (Her stubborn streak is showing through. Grin.)

My sister and brother-in-law visited Saturday. And a sweet, wonderful bonus was a visit from my daughter and son-in-law. My mom was pretty excited about seeing her youngest granddaughter. She would hug Megan and then motion with her finger for Zach to come over to get a hug. Pretty cute to see that!

This afternoon I tried to teach her how to say "I love you" in sign language. She really caught on! I think Dad is going to work with her on that every day. She held her hand up with all the fingers in the correct position and held it out to my dad. So sweet! 

I didn't think about taking a picture of that accomplishment (phooey), thus the awkward picture above.

I had a hard time telling her good-bye this afternoon. But as I was signing "I love you" to her and saying it to her, she looked at me and I knew that facial expression. It was most definitely, "I love you, too, Honey". Made me cry and made me happy all at the same time.

It was a good weekend visit. It was good to talk with my dad in the evenings at their house. If my readers out there think of us, please pray for strength for my dad. He works so hard to be a support to my mom all day long it wears him out. I admire his dedication very much.

Tomorrow Mom moves out of the hospital to a skilled care home. It's in the same community so she and my dad will still have their support system around them. I'm thankful for that. Mom will get even more intense physical, speech and occupational therapy there.

Thank you for your prayers for our family and specifically for my mom and dad.

Friends

This sweet lady talking to my mom has been her friend for many decades.  This friend was with my mom (and my dad) when Mom had the stroke six weeks ago. She followed my dad (who was following the ambulance) to the hospital and made phone calls along the way. She comes to visit my mom in the hospital several times a week and always with a very cheerful smile. 

I will write more tomorrow night about how my mom is doing.  I will say that it has been so good to see her. And get a smile and a hug.

Some Things I Want to Remember

There have been some moments over the last three weeks, that I want to remember.

God has shown His tender mercies in so many ways.

The first weekend after my mom's stroke, my son and his wife made the five hour trip to see his grandma and grandpa. And, he said, fifty percent of the reason they came was for me. Those hugs from my boy in those first few days were exactly what I needed.

There have been a number of family friends that have made a special trip just to see my mom and dad. Some of these people I have known since I was a baby. Some came into my parents' lives later on and are faithful friends. I heard from more than one person that my dad has asked them along the way, "What are you going to do with Jesus?" and they said their life would have been so different if not for that. They talked about the sweet hospitality of my parents. One friend talked about how my parents invited him and a friend for Bible study and they stayed to play with us four kids. (He ended up being the photographer at my wedding and my sisters' weddings.)

My nephew and his family came from North Carolina to see his grandma. (And later his siblings came as well.) My nephew's little girl, who is three years old, was told they were going to the hospital to see Grandma and she asked if Grandpa was going to be there because  "They belong together, they're a match". Sweetest thing out of the mouth of a toddler.

The first weekend of Mom's hospitalization, my daughter was in Ohio vising a college friend. She flew back to Kansas City on that Tuesday and then hopped in her car and drove to Iowa to see her grandma and grandpa (and me).

I will never forget the moments between Megan and her grandma. My Mom gave a vocal exclamation when she saw her baby granddaughter and I saw tears in my mom's eyes. Megan sat down in a chair next to Grandma with her journal and her Bible. While on the plane, Megan had looked up some scriptures to read to her grandma.

I snapped a couple of pictures with my phone

Megan and I sang "Jesus Loves Me" together.

Those moments.... I felt like I was on Holy Ground. Amazing. That girl of mine is something else. So proud of her and what God has done in her life.

The next day, I was leaning over Mom and talking to her and she reached up with her left hand and brushed my bangs out of my face. Tender moment.

I had thought that I would be able to read as I sat in my mom's room, but I couldn't concentrate enough and the activity in the room was crazy. Always someone coming in to check something, or the IV machine beeping or visitors. So I tended to play games on my phone. Lots and lots of Solitaire and Angry Birds and Words With Friends and Scrabble. One afternoon I was thinking that I am thankful for my smart phone. Then I made this list of things I was thankful for and posted on my Facebook:

Thankful for:
**My daughter (who is in her last year of pharmacy school)
**My daughter-in-law (first year resident doctor)
**My son and his prayers, sense of humor and music suggestions
**My husband whose name is Peter and it my rock (Peter means rock)
**My dad's love for my mom
**The hospital people who are kind to my mom
**Seeing a high school classmate who works in this hospital and getting some hugs and a

    sympathetic ear
**My parents' friends who have come to the hospital to visit
**A smartphone to distract me
**Jesus Christ and His everlasting and ever-sustaining love and strength
**My mom (and dad's) love for Christ

I have also been amazed at the number of cards my parents have gotten from friends and family. Dad reads them to Mom every day. I even received a card this week from Hubby's aunt saying that they are thinking of me and praying for my family. So sweet.

I realize this is a little disjointed, but I just wanted to record these things so I can remember God's tender mercies in this time.

When I Left Home It Was Still Summer

When I left home almost two weeks ago to be with my dad at the hospital, it was summer here. The temperatures were warm and the soybeans in the field next to our house were still green with just a hint of brown. Ten days later, the temperatures were cool and the field is brown and close to harvest. Now it's Fall.

Mom continues to be in the hospital two weeks after her stroke, but last week was moved to a rehabilitation floor in the hospital. She is getting more therapy (physical, occupational and speech), which will hopefully let her be able to do some things for herself. My sister says she sees some significant changes in Mom. I have a hard time seeing that. But I haven't seen her since she's been having more intense therapy, so maybe I will see those changes when I next see her. Mom has a long road ahead of her. And to make things more difficult, she's also dealing with Congestive Heart Failure. It is so hard for me to see her like this. She seems to understand a lot of things, but cannot communicate.(I grieve that I will not be able to have a conversation with my mom again.) She recognizes family and friends and the (half) smile she gives is a gift to see. Everyone in my family has been to visit (except two grandsons-in-law). It's heartbreaking to see each one of us realize that our mom and grandma will never be the same.

After I spent six days with my dad and mom, I went to Iowa City to meet a friend for a few days. (We had planned this at the beginning of the month.) (We first met about 25 years ago. She and her husband are missionaries in Budapest, so we don't see each other very often.)

We rented a hotel room that had two bedrooms and two baths and a living room/kitchen area. It was such a nice arrangement and we enjoyed a couple of days of girl stuff: sleeping in, talking, eating out, talking, shopping, talking, watching TV, talking. Well, you get the idea.  And I even threw in some bonus tours (I lived in Iowa City from age 4 to age 11) of my childhood neighborhood (we even visited with some neighbors that still live there) and other highlights like: the pool where I got the scar on my forehead, where I went to elementary school, the church we attended, where my dad used to work, blah, blah, blah.

I had originally planned on coming back home last Wednesday, but I decided to stay in Iowa City an extra day. I enjoyed a day all by myself (an introvert's dream) and spent it wandering around Hobby Lobby, getting a pedicure and finding a funky place for lunch.

I stopped to see my mom for a few more hours on Thursday before I finally headed back north for home. It's been good to sleep in my own bed and wash the summer clothes I had in my suitcase. Time to get out the fall clothes.

A Long Week

I just said to Hubby, "I should write a blog post, but I don't even know where to start."

I've been with my dad every day since Tuesday at the hospital with my mom. Some days are better than others.

Today, Mom was very tired all day and not very responsive. I got a couple of weak smiles from her and a good night kiss.

I'll just leave this post like that. I'll write more about the week later. Mostly so I can remember.

One more thing. I'll copy and paste what I wrote on my Facebook page tonight:

Another day at the hospital sitting with my mom and my dad.(I count it a privilege.) Pete is here, too. Mom was very tired today and seemed to sleep through most of the day. She was not very responsive to speech therapy or physical therapy. My dad and Pete had the Iowa State/Iowa game on TV and occasionally Mom would look at the TV. At the end of the day I read Psalm 139 to her. When I finished reading, she opened her eyes and looked at me. Dad said that was a "thank you." Before we told her goodnight, the three of us sang "How Great Thou Art" to her. I told Mom I never would have known I could sing if she hadn't encouraged me to sign up for choir in 7th grade.

(Well, now Hubby's name is out there. Grin.)

Exhausted

Hubby and I came back home last night. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, but I seem to be too exhausted to actually sleep, if that is even possible.

Update on my Mom:

Mom had a stroke that affected the left side of her brain and therefore has paralyzed the right side of her body and taken her speech away. She recognizes friends and family,and we get greeted with a lopsided smile. She lights up and puckers up for a kiss when my dad comes near. Those two truly love each other. I took this picture Saturday evening  before Mom was moved out of the ICU.

Such love. Sixty-plus years worth of love. Such an amazing privilege to have this marriage as an example. 

Mom is really struggling with so many things, I can't list them and besides it freaks me out a little to do so.

Over the weekend we all spent time with Mom alternated with all hanging out in the waiting room, either crying or calling or texting family and friends with updates or telling stories or talking about what insects are on our acceptable list or the tolerable list. (Gotta cope somehow, right?) Both of my sisters and brothers-in-law were there along with my brother and sister-in-law. One of my nieces came and my son and daughter-in-law. I think it was so good for us all to be together.

My son said that they came fifty percent for Grandpa and Grandma and fifty percent for me. They were such a gift to me. My son gives the best hugs and his sense of humor and way of noticing odd things was much needed. My daughter-in-law is a doctor and was so very sweet to answer our bazillion questions and draw pictures of the brain and the heart and explain how everything works.

A few of us sang Amazing Grace to Mom. We all cried on the verse that says:

When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.

My dad is wiped out. I haven't seen him cry too many times in my life. Over the weekend he broke down many, many times. So very hard to see.

My daughter is going to see her grandma tomorrow. I will drive back to Iowa to be with her and see my dad and my mom again. I think that waiting until tomorrow to see my daughter is too long, but I guess I have to wait. I am so anxious to see her.

Last summer I made a quilt for my mom. I took it from their house on Sunday and gave it to Mom and told her that a quilt is love and she can have it there at the hospital and know that I love her. She pulled at the quilt and looked me in the eye and tried to say something. I heard some noises, but no words.

Here's a picture I took of Mom last summer with the quilt:

I know this post may not make very much sense.  I am really hurting and it's hard to put coherent thoughts together.

Over the weekend the words to the hymn Jesus I am Resting, Resting kept going through my mind. Especially this verse:

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart,
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings,
Thine is love indeed.
Jesus I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art.
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

I cannot even count the number of times I have called out Jesus' name in my prayers and in my agony.

Mom

Last night Hubby and I were watching an episode of Monk when my phone rang.  It was my sister. I had an awful feeling what she was going to say. 

Our mom had a stroke.

Mom has been having problems with her heart not being in the correct rhythm for the last month or so.  Thursday she was to have a procedure that would shock her heart back into correct rhythm. An ultrasound of her heart was done in preparation for the procedure and a blood clot was found in her heart. So they canceled the procedure to be done at a later  time after a blood thinner had time to work.  Last night at 6:25 my dad says Mom just stopped being responsive. He called 911.

Hubby and I threw stuff in suitcases and started the three hour drive to where my parents live. We were in the ICU by 11:30.
Mom smiled when we came into the room. Just half a smile though because the right side of her face is droopy. She has no speech, but was able to lift her left leg a bit.

We sat with her for a few hours. Now I am supposed to be sleeping but am finding it difficult to relax.

So blogging it is.

A couple of my memory verses are rolling through my head:

Psalm 73:26
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Isaiah 41:13
For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you,  Do not fear; I will help you.

Hanging on to His hand.

Mom

 Three years ago I wrote the following post about my mom. 

I thought I would re-post it today for Mother's Day:

 

 Things my mom has taught me:

• She taught me to love my family. My devotion to my husband and kids and kids-in-law is rooted in this.
• I learned how to refinish furniture and cook and bake and read a recipe and table manners and how to set the table from my mom. She was a Home Ec major in college and has a vast amount of knowledge in these areas. She was willing to try new recipes and I like to as well. There are the classics like her Swedish Rye Bread and Thanksgiving Stuffing and Rhubarb Crisp. When I bake the Rye Bread, it smells like Mom and Dad's house. The stuffing? Sadly, I'll never be able to duplicate it because there is no written recipe. That's what makes it great. Now that it's spring I start thinking of who I know that has a rhubarb patch so I can make some Rhubarb Crisp.
• When I was signing up for classes for Junior High, Mom suggested on a whim that I sign up for choir. Ever since the 7th grade I have loved to sing. The past 9 years I have been privileged to sing on our church's worship team. I may have never known I could even sing, if I hadn't taken Mom's advice to be in the choir.
• She gave me a love for sewing. From the age of 9, through the first several years of marriage I sewed much of my own clothing. I had very few store bought dresses. I enjoyed sewing things for my kids when they were little. Now I enjoy quilting, which I could not have done without that base knowledge of sewing.
• She gave me a love for Bernina sewing machines. I have owned two. Every time I use my newest one I think, I like this machine.
• Most importantly my mom (and my dad) introduced me to Jesus. The years between age 9 and age 14 my parents sacrificed to be able to send us kids to a two week Christian camp in Ontario. I still remember things I learned there. My mom came to Christ at a Billy Graham Crusade when she was in college. I am thankful for growing up knowing Christ.

 Mom, I just wanted you to read this again.

 I love you and am thankful that you are my mommy!

My Very Own

Last December 5, a questions in the Wednesday Hodgepodge  was whether or not we liked Fruitcake. My answer, in part, was::
"My mom always makes fruitcake and I really like it. She forgets that I like and thinks my brother is the only one who likes it. :) I hope she makes it this year..."

We celebrated Christmas with my side of the family the weekend before Christmas. On Sunday we met everyone at church for worship. My mom walked up to me, unzipped my purse, and proceeded to stuff something wrapped in aluminum foil in there. I looked down and grinned. I knew what was in there.

My very own Fruitcake.

When we got home, I put it in the freezer to save for later. Yesterday I thawed it out and this morning I enjoyed several slices for breakfast.

  Mmmmmm!!!

Thanks, Mom! It's very yummy!

Month of Thankfulness - Day 5

Today was kind of a fun day for me even though it was Monday. I went out for a late breakfast with my book and enjoyed some reading time and some pumpkin pancakes. Mmmm. After breakfast, I picked up a few things from the grocery store and came home to work in the kitchen while I listened to blues music.

My culinary project was a cherry pie. Why? Because a few weeks ago Hubby and I went out for some pie and the restaurant didn't have any cherry pie. He was bummed. So this morning I decided to make him one.

Whenever I mix up pie crust I think of my mom because the recipe I use is her mother's recipe. So as I was rolling out the crust I stuck my Bluetooth (such an awesome invention) in my ear and gave my mom a call. Mom and I ended up chatting for and hour and a half or so. Fun to chat and get caught up. (Mom is 80 and had a major heart attack three years ago, had by-pass surgery and some other bad complications. I am glad I can still call her to chat.)

For supper I made some chicken nuggets that are a copy-cat Chick-fil-A recipe. (I found the recipe here.) I made them a couple of weekends ago when my son and daughter-in-law came to visit and ended up burning the bajeebers out of a couple of my fingers from jumping hot oil. (Oh. That reminds me. I haven't blogged about their visit yet. Hmmm. Some day this week I will do that.) Anyway.... I made those chicken nuggets tonight with nary a bit of jumping oil. It helped that I wasn't hurrying. Lesson learned: never hurry when hot oil is involved.

I am thankful for...
...cherry pie for dessert that was still warm. Mmmm...
...my grandmother's pie crust recipe
...phone conversations with my mom
...unburned fingers
...a dishwasher to clean all those dirty dishes

She's Eighty

On the second day of this month my mother turned 80. Isn't that just crazy? I don't think she looks 80 (whatever 80 is supposed to look like), do you?

We gathered at my sister and brother-in-law's house to celebrate her. All my siblings and their spouses were able to be there and that made Mom very happy.

My mom has this thing with chocolate. She loves it. So we indulged her with chocolate covered strawberries, homemade ice cream and cupcakes. Lots of yummy cupcakes!

We all enjoyed spoiling her all weekend. We all pitched in and gifted her with her very own Kindle. (See? Not your typical 80 year old!) She loves to read and travel, so the perfect gift!

Here's a shot of me with my siblings and my parents. (I think my brother-in-law was taking forever to take the picture, that's why I have a goofy look on my face, Yeah, I'll go with that...)

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Day 12 of Thankfulness

The poster below was produced in England at the start of World War 2. It was intended to keep up the morale of the British people in the event of an invasion.

The poster below was posted on my Facebook wall a few days ago.

I like this poster better. :) This should keep up my morale. :)

Yesterday afternoon I went shopping with my mom at Super Target. WooHoo! What a great store. :)

I am thankful for...
...having the opportunity to go to Target (and a Super Target, no less!)
...being with my mom at Target
...watching my mom try to operate an electric cart that was extremely low on battery. It was funny.

When The Music Stopped, Part Three

This concludes the article written by my dad after my mom's heart attack two years ago.
(To read the first two parts go here and here.)

I identified with the Psalmist who is grieving and moaning, wailing with heavy hurt.  He does not cry out just once in a while, rather morning, noon and night.  It is an unceasing expression of woe regarding the sorrow of his suffering.

 I could do the same, and I did!

But note the words, “the Lord saves me” and “He hears my voice.”  We can trust our God’s promise that “He is active to transform circumstances to bring good out of evil." 

But it is almost too easy to recite that promise to others when one is still suffering from overwhelming, unhealed wounds.  That is religious phoniness. 

As long as our mind is not settled about an issue, we might as well be honest with God and with ourselves by pouring out our feelings about it.

Then on November 8,  I remember hearing a children’s message from 1 Thessalonians 5:18 about being commanded to be thankful in all circumstances, not necessarily for them.  The community of believers helped bring me back into discovering the way of God.  Isn’t that what the church is supposed to do?

Then I was assured that the Lord hears my voice.  We all know that when we complain continually to those around us, they get tired of listening and pretty well want to close their ears to our entreaty.

“In contrast the Lord will always listen to our cries, even if they are about the same subject for the billionth time.”

Being sustained by God is a way of saying we can endure.  It is the kind of support that begins the process of emotional healing. But the last part of the verse quoted, “He will never let the righteous be shaken/or moved” carries the connotation that it will not last forever.  We may fall, but we won’t be trampled in the dust when we are down. 

Last week as my wife was preparing for bed and looked at her toe-less feet she began quietly weeping.  Should I have told her that all things work together for those called by God, or should I have said, your tears are beautiful, for while your physical body has mostly healed, it seems apparent that your emotions are now catching up with the healing process?

The next night she claimed this verse from Psalm 119:92-93 as her own:

   If your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.

  I will never forget your precepts, for by them you have preserved my life.

There is still the pain of what is happening to my best friend and soul mate of 57 years.   But now, I’ve begun to again appreciate how deeply I am loved by God and of the suffering involved in bearing the cost of loving. 

Some of the circumstances of life bring us happiness.  Others bring us deep sorrow and pain.  But both happiness and sorrow rest on the bedrock of this one fundamental fact:  it is true that Jesus Christ suffered, died and rose from the dead and demonstrated for all time our reconciliation to God.  God will never take His eye from us.  The face of God is always smiling upon you. 

Always!  

Amen.

Like I said, it's been two years since Mom first had the heart attack, since that night that she started having shortness of breath and couldn't call out to my dad who was upstairs in their house. She texted him on his cell-phone "Help". He came to see what was wrong and ended up taking her to the ER.

Mom has recovered. She has learned to walk without her toes. Here is a picture of my parents at my daughter's wedding a little more than a year ago. She wanted to dance and they practiced at home in their kitchen.

How sweet is God for giving them some more years together?