Walk With Me

“If you have never had a loved one look at you without recognizing who you are, the idea of grieving the loss of someone that is standing right in front of you might seem counterintuitive. In fact, even those who have a loved one with profound dementia often have trouble resolving their own emotions. There may even be multiple times when you may grieve, recover, and then see your loved one slip even further away from you and experience that loss all over again. ” –Maria Shriver The above is so true that grief with a dementia patient is this vicious cycle: grieve, recover, discover another sign they’re slipping away, and then the cycle starts all over again. There are stretches of time where I feel strong and trust that God is taking care of Dad, helping my Mom, and walking with us. But then… Some days when the to-do list is a little bit shorter and the kids are growing more independent, it’s hard for the mind not to wander. Today is a blue day; one of those days where though...

Not long ago, my five year old came to me in tears and when I asked her what was wrong she said, “I’m going to miss Grandpa when he goes to heaven.” (I will later discover this was sparked by her finding the book “What is Heaven Like” by Beverly Lewis tucked away on the shelf.) I can’t not answer; I don’t want to pretend that death isn’t a part of life. But, what do I do when she speaks the very fear that creeps in my heart? Do I try to be strong and pretend I’m not just as impacted by that same thought? Do I break down sobbing and not get up the rest of the day? What do I say when my girls ask me why God doesn’t give Grandpa his memories back or asks if God will give him His memory back when he is in heaven? How do I answer the very questions I’m asking God? Ugh! There is no instruction manual for this sort of thing. I mean, no instruction manual for parenting alone is so UGH! But, for this? Of course, it is my hope that Dad will be with us for many years; right now, he is ...

Forgive me for not being incredibly passionate about the current political state of this country. (Which don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware!)  Forgive me if I seem a little oblivious or as though I’m not participating as much as usual. Forgive me if when I see you, I completely forget to ask you how you are doing. I know I don’t really owe an apology but I am a people pleaser. Truly, I am more aware than you know. There are a lot of things not fair about what’s going on in the world. But for me, in my little world, you know what’s not fair? What’s not fair is silently sitting on the sidelines while I watch my Dad looking at his granddaughter and I sense he’s trying to recall something, but it’s just not coming to him. What’s not fair is when my Dad, the author, technical writer, sermon writer, struggles to write the letter “H” in the word “fish”. What’s not fair is having moments where I wonder if my Dad knows who I am. That’s completely not fair! My Dad is living with...

Tonight was family movie night. Toward the end, I had all three girls cuddling with me and I thought “I don’t slow down and do this nearly enough.” Yet, 5 minutes later I’m rushing to get laundry away and harping on the girls to get their rooms picked up and their jammies on. Lydia says, “hey Mom” and comes into my room with a smile on her face like she has something really important to say. But instead of stopping what I was doing and listening to her, I shushed her and told her to finish picking up her room. She walked away without a word. The second I did it, that voice in my head chided me and told me to stop and go listen. Because she had a pep in her step, a smile on her face and it was important to her. So, I went and sat on her bed while she sat on her floor, picking up her things like I asked. I asked her what it was she wanted to tell me and for a moment, she hesitated and didn’t look at me. I had pushed her away once; I don’t blame her one bit for being skittish in...

I go to this blog Finding Joy when I need to be reminded that I am not perfect, when I need encouragement during the isolating winters or when I’m feeling alone in Stay at Home Mom land. I read this post  yesterday and I had a major "Ah ha moment". I finally heard someone tell me it was okay to admit where I’m at in my own motherhood journey. “Do you know what I think? I think it’s normal to not like motherhood sometimes. Yep. I said it. So what do you do if you’re in that spot? That not liking of motherhood moment place in life and yet here you are – a mom? The truth is that we all need authentic real moms who are able and willing to mention where they are in this journey." (Rachel Martin, findingjoy.net).   I’m trying to be authentic by admitting I have been in a stage of not liking motherhood. That in and of itself is a horrible feeling. On top of that, boy have I felt the guilt. Because I felt called to this path and I chose this path. I cho...

[photo of a photo] This one was had me stuck. When I finally decided which photo to use I realized I should probably ask permission since it's a photo of my parents. (And if they're actually reading this blog I'm sorry I didn't ask, but it's a great picture and here's the reason why I chose this photo...) My parents are strong, caring people. They have worked hard and sacrificed so much for my siblings and me. I am eternally grateful for how much they've supported me, endured the not so good sides of me, and just plain loved me. I'm a lucky daughter. I was practicing with the natural light in our window and as I was taking pictures, my girls were walking by and I realized the glass was catching their reflection. I am amazed at how much of my parents I see in my girls and that makes me smile. What blessings...

[a collection] Today I practiced with a creative filter. As I looked around the living room trying to decide on a collection, my music books caught my eye. I have other collections, but my piano books mean a lot to me. I literally carried many of these books on my back during my college years. Long walks to practice rooms, long nights in practice rooms. (Usually they were stifling hot practice rooms!) My hymnals and organist editions were gifts to me from grandparents and I can't even explain how much those mean to me. I know I will have them until the day I die. Some are books my parents had for years and while I'm pretty sure I asked permission to have them, they just ended up following me around and I still have them. I've used these books in my teaching and now my girls are using some of them. I know this is just a season in my life, but it's a season where I'm not playing as much as I like. Someday, this collection will be added to and overused!