I’m feeling a little guilty.
I haven’t been taking time to write much for months. A lot has been happening in my life that has
pulled my attention every which way and left me feeling like I don’t have
ability to care for my personal needs like I should. But during all these months, I think about a
question that helps me stop, plant my feet and reflect.
Where is God in this?
Sometimes I don’t want to consider the question. Other times it is exactly what I need to
think about. It’s not only about finding
positive things when it feels like the walls are collapsing around me, it is
also about learning that those walls may have been what has been holding me
back from what I need to be doing for God and for others.
Much has happened in our lives in the past six months. Transitions mark 2014 in ways that propel us
into our future in both secure and very insecure ways. Here’s a brief list:
·
Our son moved out in April, into a house shared
by up to three other men. He works full time and takes two classes and
it’s time for him to move forward!
· My mother-in-law fell beginning a long downward
spiral that is now manifesting as mid-stage dementia.
·
Our daughter graduated from high school.
·
I was ordained a Transitional Deacon.
·
I am in my last semester of seminary.
·
My mother-in-law has been hospitalized three
times, been in a transitional care facility, moved into a residential assisted
care home and now needs to move into another place more able to care for her
needs.
·
We traveled for my husband’s work to Baltimore
and visited friends who recently moved near D.C.
·
Our daughter started her freshman year of
college in August and we celebrated by going camping!
·
The revolving door of an empty nest is both
wonderful and sad.
It feels like everything is clouded with dementia, with
caring for my mother-in-law, with regrouping and rescheduling to meet her
needs. Our physical defenses are down,
our work is interrupted, and our goals are re-arranged as her needs overwhelm
our days. Even though she doesn't live
with us (even though she wants to live with us), Jeff’s responsibilities have
gone from a weekly bill-paying and other odd responsibilities to nearly daily
events that can take anywhere from a few minutes to over eight hours. Unfortunately, most of the time, these moments
are unscheduled. Unfortunately, we have
learned to expect them.
Where is God in this?
Love just isn't enough: We know we are unable to fix
her, that she hates not understanding what is happening to her and that it
HURTS all of us, emotionally, physically to be helpless.
Prayers are ways to scream: We are learning to ask for the things we need rather than expecting to be able to do things for ourselves. This includes prayers, crying out for God’s guidance through this time.
We have awesome friends and family: We've had friends help us around our house, doing repair work or basic house cleaning.
Education helps: We've learned a lot about Alzheimer’s and the complexities of the disease.
Self –care takes many forms: We've found that we don’t have to answer the phone from her home every time it rings.
Distraction is important: We've learned that not only she needs distraction, so do we. We've had to carve out time for just us, as little as watching Dr. Who on “On Demand” or going for a walk to going to a movie and dinner, in order to turn off the constant worry with some distraction.
We've learned flexibility: Our plans are subject to last minute changes. Dinners are delayed. Work and study is put on hold. It’s hard. It affects our attitudes. It changes us.
Prayers are ways to scream: We are learning to ask for the things we need rather than expecting to be able to do things for ourselves. This includes prayers, crying out for God’s guidance through this time.
We have awesome friends and family: We've had friends help us around our house, doing repair work or basic house cleaning.
Education helps: We've learned a lot about Alzheimer’s and the complexities of the disease.
Self –care takes many forms: We've found that we don’t have to answer the phone from her home every time it rings.
Distraction is important: We've learned that not only she needs distraction, so do we. We've had to carve out time for just us, as little as watching Dr. Who on “On Demand” or going for a walk to going to a movie and dinner, in order to turn off the constant worry with some distraction.
We've learned flexibility: Our plans are subject to last minute changes. Dinners are delayed. Work and study is put on hold. It’s hard. It affects our attitudes. It changes us.
Where is God in
this?
Dementia is not a private disease. Mental illness needs to stop being
stigmatized. I’m learning that I cannot
continue to whisper about what is happening in our lives. Even on our CaringBridge (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/judydehler) page I’m becoming
more honest about how dementia is changing this person we love. It isn't very pretty. Her behavior has not been pleasant. She doesn't know what role Jeff is in her
life—is he her son? her husband? her lover?—in some phone calls he is all of
them. Where is “home?” Who are these people around her? Some of the time she is lucid, but the next
moment, her story is convoluted.
Where is God in this?