What to remember and what to forget

I'm a girl of details. I need a plan, I need to see what the objective is, and see a detailed course of action on how it is to be completed. Success is in the little details, that combined create the whole of what is to be complete. If I picture a room that I want to decorate, I see it in my head and then I go on a mission to procure every little detail of that room until is a complete representation of what I pictured. I am always striving to remember the details. Remember recipes, movie lines, my kids PR times, the Blackhawks season record, what my Momma's favorite movie was, the color of her hair and the sound of her voice, every car my dad restored, when to get my oil changed, who needs to take what pill when, the burning edge of the hole I feel with the loss of too many too soon. I've been afraid that if I forget a detail, I will lose everything. Perhaps there are somethings that need to be forgotten in order to move on? I've watched my Dad struggle to remember details daily. Some have been minor, like when he had seen me last. He swears it's been days, when I visit him daily, sometimes twice or three times. Other details have been much larger and harder to witness. One day he could not identify my Mom in a picture of the two of them. It broke my heart as anyone who knows my parents, knows that my dad was completely devoted to my Mom. He adored her and she was his world. But in that moment he could not remember the pain and anguish he has been suffering with her loss. He didn't feel the burning edges of the hole. In a selfish, twisted way, I envy those moments he had. As we continue this journey of details, remembering, and forgetting, I will have to learn to accept my position as the keeper of the memories. I will gladly carry in remembrance the details of what is being forgotten. I will cherish and adore the memories of love and laughter, the details that we used to overcome and carry on, and if I must remember the sting of singed, smoldering hole of what's been lost. Then I hope and pray that the pain stretches me so that I may grow to use it to the betterment of myself, and those that I love. I will accept the forgotten memories as a blessing of mercy.

Confessions of a know it all

I love nothing more than someone asking me a question that I simply don't have an answer to. I am one of those freaks who actually finds the task of taking on a challenge of something unfamiliar as a way to stretch my comfort zone. Even more a way to learn. And when I want to learn about something new, I exhaust every effort of research methods to absorb as much as I can. Why do I not mind what others hate? I must confess, I am a know it all. I think my OCD is at such a magnitude that my fear is that I may make an important life changing decision without being fully informed. I am the caregiver and financial "boss" for our family of 7. An informed decision is the only way I can go. Who doesn't want to say that they made the best decision for their loved one?

I thrived on this when we were told that Jake would be legally blind and to accept it. Had I simply done that, he would not be where he is now, at near perfect vision with his corrective lenses that are double digit prescriptions weaker than his first pair of glasses as a baby. I found the therapy of research soothing when Noah was diagnosed with an Autism spectrum disorder. There is comfort in knowing that you're not the only to have experienced certain things, and even more so when you are not blindsided by some new behavior presentation. With so many treatment options out there for just about anything that ails you, it is always good to make an informed decision. However, when it is your child, and you are the person they are counting on to advocate for their best interest, the responsibility of that task can weigh as much as much as a Buick.

I found my know it all status was helpful to my acceptance of what was to come with my Momma's health. Having grown up with Asthma, having had two children with RSV as infants, and a daughter with severe Asthma I was familiar with much of the medication that Momma required. Having been working at a Hospice agency with the resources of coworkers I developed a greater understanding of COPD than I ever needed to know. I was able to know what was to be expected next, and although it was heartbreaking when each step arrived, there was a sense of comfort in having been at least mentally ready. The case was much the same when my Gradad's Alzheimer's declined. Although I wasn't ready for the decline to be so sudden and swift, from a clinical viewpoint, it was all following the same textbook path.

Having survived the year, when the dust settled it was decided that my Dad would be coming to Ohio to live with me and my family. My know it all status was at an all time high. I was knowledgable of Dad's health concerns, and medical history. I knew all of his medications, what they were for, the importance of each one. I knew which doctor's he needed to establish ongoing care with, and started a to do list of of how we were going to get him overhauled and back to optimal shape. Once we got his routine stuff taken care of, it was on to mobility. He was in desperate need of knee replacement. During his pre-surgical physical there was a heart beat irregularity. We got a thorough work up with a Cardiologist the next day and a green light for the surgery. The day of surgery came and his blood wasn't quite ready, we had to come home for a few days with injections to allow his blood to thicken just a bit. None of this seemed odd given his medical history and medications. I was thankful for the precautions of the doctors and hospital. However after surgery came the chaos of the unprepared effects of surgery. There is always risk. What I wasn't expecting was for it to actually all come down around me. Post-op became Hell. Dad's blood pressure dropped, leading to acute renal failure. With his kidneys not working properly he started building up fluids and much of the medication started to build up as well. His blood was dangerously thick and he started to become increasingly lethargic and altered. After this had gone on for days, I demanded a consultation with a neurologist. With his kidney function improving, his mental status remained the same, and on some days was worse. An MRI revealed that Dad had developed at some point prior, Vascular Dementia. Initially, it seemed surreal. Hadn't this man been through enough? How could I, who knows it all, have not seen this? But it all adds up. His behavior prior to surgery and medical history all line up. He has had all the risk factors for developing it. I had attributed so much to other causes, masking it. While they could still be reasons for it, it really doesn't matter. What matters is moving forward. Starting a new normal for my family. Accepting that it is not going to be easy, it is going to be hard work.

I don't know it all, but I am going to make darn sure that I find doctors and therapists willing to teach me. I will find a way to manage a 3 generational household of misfits who each have their own quirks and special needs. I will manage a budget that will look like advanced calculus. But with the knowledge that God always has provided a way, and he will continue. I will research ways to make sure that Dad gets the most of everyday, and do my best to be ready for the next step. Whenever it decides to present itself. I will do this not only because I promised my Momma, but because it is what I want to do. We are called to honor our parents. It is a joy and a privilege to take care of him. He adored my mom, worked hard to provide for his family. He has a kind soul, and a heart for his family. What more do I need to know?

Family defined

Fam·i·ly (noun)
a. a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not: the traditional family.
b. a social unit consisting of one or more adults together with the children they care for: a single-parent family.

2. the children of one person or one couple collectively: We want a large family.

3. the spouse and children of one person: We're taking the family on vacation next week.

4. any group of persons closely related by blood, as parents, children, uncles, aunts, and cousins: to marry into a socially prominent family.

all those persons considered as descendants of a common progenitor.


A quick search on Dictionary.com will reveal the definition of family. However I am not so convinced anymore that it is an accurate description of what family truly is. I have a feeling that I may not be alone in what I feel defines the term “family”. Does a family go beyond genetics and a common last name? I guess in this case, size doesn’t matter. I may have been brought up in a relatively small group of family that I am related to by blood, but I feel that my true family is vast, and growing continually.

The establishment of family was created to tie people together. So that each member would be shored up by another so that with a strong foundation, it could stand up against the strongest of storms. One of my favorite versus that convinces me that God wants family to work as a unit is from the Psalms, But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children. Psalm 103:17

Yet, I just can’t stop there. Why? Well, my traditional family has undergone many changes. My previously small family has become even smaller. Those who I dwelled with and have descended from are now only 1 other, my sister. I do have my step father, who I adore and now care for full time in my home. His steadfast love of my mother, and her two daughters helped build the foundation of my ever changing idea of what a family is. I have also created a rather large family of my own with my husband. My husband is a fantastic blessing to me and is an incredible anchor in the many storms. But I have realized that my family is so much larger. I see family everywhere I go.



This is a picture of my daughters cross country team. They remind me that family is a fortress that stands strong. I have been brought to tears and we have only had two meets this season. These girls pump one another up. They encourage one another, and they hold one another up. I have witnessed these girls run their hearts out, then get right on the route lines and encourage the boys, whether they are friends or not. All that matters is that there is a fellow runner wearing a Bethel Tate jersey and they will not run alone. They run along the route cheering, encouraging and pumping the runner up. Even if they are the very last runner of that heat. Social status doesn’t matter, runners are family. I have watched parents wait until the very last runner comes in. They cheer as though it was their child, even though their child finished minutes, sometimes hours ago. It doesn’t matter, that child is a runner, runners are family.


I also learned that my family spans the years and the miles. Time holds no boundaries to family. My time spent in California to support my family during my mom’s illness and passing was revealing of how time does not change ties. Friends from my childhood called, texted, and made sure I was well fed. The day that Momma passed I had more support than I ever thought I would need. My nearly three hour layover in Philadelphia was met with one of my bestest friends driving 2 hours to make sure I had lunch. It was then that I found out that my Momma had gone peacefully. The five hour flight was made easier by wifi access so that I could communicate with my husband and dear friends who were doing all they could to help pass the time. I was met at the airport by my sweet friend, Jennefer. She insisted that she pick me up at LAX so that my family could focus on each other until I arrived. She made sure I ate, and stayed with me and my family. Her family offered me a car to make sure that we had enough vehicles to do the things that we needed to do. Memories of sleepovers spent at that home, treats made, curfews, late night giggles, and hugs. The last time I had seen her brothers they were just little boys running around in under-roos and capes. Now they were men, one raising his own family. A dinner with who I grew up with as a second mom made me jealous of my friend. Yet I now am thankful that I can still call her mom.

There is this strange yet blessed phenomenon that takes place when you endure an incredible loss. You become a part of a small selective society. It’s a club of sorts. The only thing that gets you in is having shared a common burden. If you have lost your mom, then you understand the heart break, the jealousy of friends who still have theirs, the anger when that first mother’s day comes and you can no longer hear her thank you. You know regret of missed thank you’s, I should have called more, and why didn’t I visit more. If you’ve been a caretaker for a sick loved one, then you understand the exhaustion, the devotion, the guilt of wanting more sleep, the heartbreak in watching them lose weight, and slip further away, the difficult decisions, the 3 am prayers whispered.

My sweet friend, Jennefer is having to experience the anguish and the blessing of caring for a loved one who is fighting the fight of her life. You see, her precious niece, Sterling (the daughter of one of her under-roo wearing brothers), experienced some headaches that were discovered to be caused by a rare form of cancer. There have been incredibly tough decisions, difficult nights spent in countless hospital hallways. It’s barely been over a month, yet their journey is just begun. This battle requires lots of man power, lots of prayers and is going to require the support of many who are willing the join the ranks to see that Sterling receives as much love and help as she can to fight. I welcome you to be a part of Sterling’s journey. To uplift her family, to witness the blessings unfold. I would be hard pressed to find someone who has not been touched by cancer, touched by watching the daily battle against it. The family ties to that experience are far too reaching than I could ever fathom.


This is how you can follow Sterling's Journey and help:
https://www.mylifeline.org/sterlingchronicles/?page=welcome.cfm

I’ve heard the phrase, “Blood is thicker than water”, but I have also heard, “friends are the family you chose for yourself”. What I do know for a fact is that you can never have too much family, be it those who you are bound to by genetics and namesake or by the mutual understanding of the souls journey. I love my family, it stretches across the miles, oceans and time. May God bless my family, and may I always be at the ready to shore up those who I am bound to.

II Cor.13: 11-14

11 Finally, brethren, farewell.  Become complete.  Be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.  12 Greet one another with a holy kiss.  13 All the saints greet you. 14 The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.