The S's

Well, Mema has moved into the nursing home
after being in the hospital for five days.

She was sent back to the ER the evening after she moved.
After four hours, they sent  her back to the nursing home
not finding anything wrong with her.

The next evening the nursing home called Mom
saying they were sending her back to the ER.
My mom refused.
Mom is so tired.

The next morning, the nursing home called Mom
after the doc took xrays and blood work.
She has another UTI infection,
and something with her chest....
they will call back with more specifics.
Mom didn't quite know all the details.
Who is correct here?
The hospital or the Nursing Home?
It's so hard to know who to believe anymore.

I have been unable to see Mema for over three weeks now.
Hopefully Monday, after my doc takes the stitches out of my foot,
and I hopefully, will be in a walking boot,
will hobble my ever growing bottom
to sit with Mema for as long as she wants my company.

Mom talked to Aunt Bernice, Mema's sister last week,
and filled her in.
Uncle Steve has been in the hospital too,
and I think Aunt Bernice was a bit frustrated.
She said something,
then after my mom stopped laughing,
Aunt Bernice explained.
Apparently, her father used to say this after difficult times.

"I've Showered, Shit, and Shaved, and I'm ready to go!"

So Mema, we are in a rocky boat together,
but I have finally showered by myself, and shaved my legs,
etc., etc.
Let's get this show on the road!

Still angry, but this helped me.

The Broken WayGwen Smith
Today’s Truth

Moses answered the people, 'Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today ... the LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still (Exodus 14:13-14, NIV).

Friend to Friend

While at a football game of my son Preston’s, I had a moving conversation with another team mom. It was the first time we’d ever dialogued beyond socially expected niceties. Between cheers that went up to our football-playing boys, she stumbled upon the fact that I was a Jesus-loving girl and was excited to share about how God has intimately drawn her heart to his over the past five years. How He met her where she was, ministered to her through the hands of others. How He sparked life into her soul through His Son Jesus Christ. She was radiant and she spoke with excitement, joy in every sentence, praise on her tongue for the God who gives her strength and life. This dear lady opened her heart and told me of her grueling battle with an aggressive form of breast cancer.

She was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 35 – as a wife and mother to three small children. Initially, she was angry with God for allowing a disease to ravage her body, furious that her husband and children might have to live without her. Though she fought to understand the “why” of it all, she confidently testifies that God used the pain-filled journey on the broken road of cancer to lead her to saving Grace. She is now grateful for the broken way that God breathed new life into her soul as she battled death in her body. As she spoke, the troubles of my life faded to a humble corner of my heart. Her words reminded me that God really can and should be glorified through each hard place we find ourselves in. I was freshly reminded to trust God.

Life is filled with challenges. The struggles we endure often leave our hearts breaking and our minds aching for reprieve. I’ve not battled cancer, but I have experienced my fair share of times when I’ve been crushed by circumstances that are beyond my control … just like her. As a wife, mother, daughter, and friend, I’ve learned that hard times are inevitable and that they hurt.

Toward the end of our conversation about her cancer and faith, my new friend confided that fear still tries to invade her days. She said that she constantly has to choose faith and to trust God instead of dwelling on the possibilities of another future diagnosis. Every one of us doubts at times. We all fail to trust. But Scripture assures us that even when we are faithless, God remains faithful. As we walk broken paths that challenge our faith, the truth remains that God does deliver in and through the pain. Though there are struggles that we might take to the grave with us, God is still good. Each hard place is an opportunity for Jesus to show His power in and through our lives.

When we find ourselves on the broken way, we often feel like we are wandering in the wilderness. In Exodus 13:17-14:31, we see a dreary desert drama of the Israelites. Stop here to read the full account now if you can.

When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter. For God said, "If they face war, they might change their minds and return to Egypt." So God led the people around by the desert road toward the Red Sea (Exodus 13:17-18a, NIV).

As God moved through the leadership of Moses to bring His people from captivity to freedom, from poverty to inheritance, the Israelites were not led the easy way. They didn’t get to take the “paved” road – even though it was shorter. They had to walk through the desert. God led them the harder way because He knew it was best for them in the long run. Sometimes we are led the harder way too. The broken way. Even though our minds conceive an easier solution, He knows what is unknown to us, He sees what is unseen to us, and His ways are trustworthy and best.

By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.” (Exodus 17:21-22, NIV)

“Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel's army, withdrew and went behind them. The pillar of cloud also moved from in front and stood behind them, coming between the armies of Egypt and Israel. Throughout the night the cloud brought darkness to the one side and light to the other side; so neither went near the other all night long.

Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left (Exodus 14:19-22, NIV).

God has given us his Holy Spirit to lead us by day and by night, to be our Strength, our Power, and our Direction in the deserts of life. Just as God made a way for the Israelites when they called on Him as they faced a seemingly impossible Red Sea situation, He will make a way for you. Call on His name. Trust His plan. Reach for His hand.

Let’s Pray

Dear Lord, forgive me for the times when I try to navigate the broken path of life on my own. When my heart is heavy with burdens, please give me Your strength and remind my soul to trust You. I need Your guidance and power today.

In Jesus’ Name,

Amen.

God never promised life would be easy

I am so very frustrated tonight.
I am trying to put down all this anger
Sadness, disappointment and more sadness
At Christ's feet.
This too is hard.
Mema can no longer live in assisted living.
She has another UTI,
Is too weak to walk, even with a walker,
And actually fell Sunday and has a small break
In her pelvis and back.
She sleeps most of the time.

Last Wednesday I broke my foot.
Broke it good.
Had surgery to put a plate in.
Not supposed to put
any pressure on it until I see the doc on Monday,
If then.
Mom has been taking care of Mema and me
Nearly by herself. Hil stayed with me two nights.
Dad has packed the apartment at woodridge
Completely on his own.
Mema will move into a nursing home tomorrow.
It's a good one, but it still is a nursing home.
If I hadn't broken my foot,
Mema would be moving here.
That was not God's plan, apparently.
Mom seems to have come down with a cold,
After being so tired from care taking,
Practically living in hospitals
And the stress if seeing her mom slip further
Who wouldn't get sick?
I am praying it is only a cold.
If it is worse, I will try to get to the nursing home
Tomorrow, somehow.
Mom will fight me on this, but I cannot let her
Get more sick, as she is 73, has type 1 diabetes,
Which is way out if whack as it is.....
with everything she had been doing, and her heart is bad.
But I cannot even begin to imagine Mema
Going into a nursing home alone,
No one and nothing familiar,
Or to explain what is happening and why.
Hil can drive me over when she has a break from work,
Or a friend will take me.
I have a roll about scooter
So I can stay off my foot.

Just don't know.
Just don't understand why when I ask for help
It doesn't come.
There is a lesson here somewhere.

I'm not lying when I say it is very difficult
To see Mema struggling with everything,
I struggle to not cry.
She wouldn't understand,
or it would upset her fragile mind even more.
My stories and takes and experiences with Mema,
I feel so blessed to have,
But it is very hard.

My husband, daughters, parents, sister
and friends lift me up.
I am so thankful for them.
I  ranting now,
praying it is not as bleak as it seems now.
Hospice is saying 1-3 months based on how
Mema is progressing,
Or not progressing

It is going to be what it is going to be
And God is in charge.
Others can only do what they can do
And I have no control.

Breathe.
Sleep.
Remember why this is important
And I need to be ready.
Breathe.
Blessed

Some thoughts from Darl

There are so many things I remember about Mom while I was growing up,
it would take volumes to write about them.
I will try to send some as I think about them.
When I was in the 1st or 2nd grade, I was having trouble spelling.
Mom used to sit with me for hours going over the words
and I remember as if it were yesterday,
the one word I was having trouble with was together. 
Mom told me to spell it like this
to-get-her,
I thought she had to be the smartest mom in the whole world
and from then on I always looked at words
to see if they could be broken down into smaller words.
She also taught me multiplication and one of them I will never forget,
(as sure as a squirrel climbs a tree 7X9 is 63)
When I was in my mid 20s I worked for a company called Materials Research,
I was the head of the drafting department.
The owner was a Chemist and the smartest man I have ever known.
He would walk into our drafting department and test us
by asking a question to see who could answer it first. 
He walked in one day and shouted out "what is 7X9?"
He was impressed I answered it so quickly!

Mom will probably remember this:
When we were young kids living in Walnut Grove
just down the road from where Shirley and Larry live now,
we had a two story unit and us kids had bed rooms upstairs.
Every year the newspaper would run a Christmas story
that would start about 2 weeks before Christmas,
and every night we would crawl into bed,
and Mom would come up and read us the next part of the story.
They were exciting times.

Probably the one thing that I will remember the most
that touches my heart every time I think about it
is when Sharon, the boys and I stopped by Mom and Dad's
in Strasburg to say goodby before moving to Nevada.
When it came time to hug her goodby,
she grabbed me and hugged me so tight it almost took my breath away
and she just wouldn't let go.
I have tears in my eyes right now just thinking about it.
So I did the same to Doug when we left them that early morning in Georgia,
because to me 1000 words could not express as much love as that one hug.

Grabbing at Bits and Pieces

As Mema goes from a really good day
to having a really bad day,
I seem to be trying to gather as many memories and stories as I can.
I definitely am thinking of funny stories she has told to share with her
on her not so good days.
I can only agree with her that this sucks so much!

I am asking any family members to email me @ kristyball@sbcglobal.net
any picture, stories and memories that you have of Grandma.
I am trying to figure out how to get photos onto a dvd for you all,
as well as post as many as I have over the next few days.

(I want to apologise if there are any repeated stories in this blog.
Memory loss must run in the family.
And I figured, that I have had to hear all these stories over and over again
from Mema, so you may as well too!)

These are a few memories I have to share today.
Random, as they come to me.

One day, when I was taking Mema to School,
she was having a hard day.
She always was a happy lady,
and never let anyone else know she was down.
It is her motto to always have a smile, no matter what.
She told me that this life was getting old.
She was feeling old, and just wished she would go to sleep and not wake up again.
She has had a good life so there isn't anything else she needs to hang around for.
(This was two years ago!)
I asked her what I should tell folks about her after she passed.
She thought a moment and answered:
"Tell them...There she goes!  She had a great time while she was here!"
Then she giggled at how that sounded,"but that's what I want you to say!"
She seemed in a  much better mood at that, as she went in to school.


When I was a preteen, I remember staying with Grandma and Grandpa during the holiday.
My sister and I made pallets on the familyroom floor
in front of the roomsized brick fireplace.
The television was on the brick ledge to the right.
It was very late, and I was watching the original Helen Keller.
The one with Patty Duke.
One of the reason's I remember this, I'm sure, is that I was entering puberty,
and my beginning breasts hurt like crazy laying on that hard floor. 
I just couldn't get comfortable.
I remember Grandma coming in,
it must have been two in the morning,
bringing all the pillows from her bed,
fluffing them up under me,
and rearranging them until I was comfortable.
I don't know how she slept, but I was on a cloud.
Grandma....my miracle worker!

 

 

As we begin the holiday season,
one cookie we always MUST make is Mary's Sugar Cookies.
Grandma's dad showed her how to make these,
and she ALWAYS had a batch in the chest freezer in the laundry room,
frosted and waiting for  little grandchildren hands
to sneak in and grab a frozen bit of heaven!
I remember when she taught me to make them.
Grandpa had made a wooden ruler to measure exactly 1/4"
The exact thickness the cookies were to be rolled out to,
for the perfect cookie.
And in the frosting, she always added a bit of left over coffee
from that morning as flavoring.
When I make them today, it is not right until I have tasted the frosting
and had a flash of childhood.

Grandma always had some kind of cookie ready in the freezer.
When she lived in her last house in Strasberg,
most of her nieces and nephews would come by Aunt Dot's on Saturday mornings.
She would have coffee made, and a plate of cookies.
When the cookies were gone, the relatives would go home.
There was no refilling of the plate.
If she wanted company, the plate would be over flowing.
If she had things to do, everyone may get only one cookie.
I wish I had been there on those Saturday mornings.
Oh, when we visited from Pittsburgh, or Texas,
everyone gathered, but I don't believe it was the same
as the routine 7am time around the table.


Grandma was a hard worker all her life.
She likes to say she has big strong hands.
Not dainty little things.
I take after her.
It was funny watching us try to replace a tiny screw in her glasses one day,
both of us with our big fingers.
She had her nails painted yesterday.
Since she has been forgetting things,
her hands are always moving.
Mostly by flicking the buttons on her shirt.
Needless to say, her nails are usually chipped.
But, when I saw her bright red nails yesterday!
She seemed very proud of them.
I told her she was a hot mama ready for the town!
She smiled at that.
I don't know if this lady has ever been a hot mama painting the town red.

The rest of that day was pretty bad.
She had a hard time talking,
and most of the time she just stared out into the room.
She didn't want to eat anything.
When I spoke to her, it took a minute for her to focus on me.
It shook me up a little.

The next day when I went to visit,
it was like Mema was back!
She was laughing and joking and her eyes were bright!
We sat at a table in the dining room
and drank coffee.
At one point she looked at her hands and said
"Don't they look tiny?"
What do you mean by tiny Grandma?
"They look very petite.  My hands look very small and pretty!
Well, lady, you will never go a day without red nail polish on!

A Gift?

I went to check on Mema tonight.
Mom had spent most of the day with her.
She said Mema was not doing well.
We have been trying to decide if Mema is well enough
to come to Christmas Eve dinner, and/or Christmas morning.
Mom thinks not.
I am torn because I so badly want her here...
to be here, with family at the holiday.
But I am fearful that she will not be "here" and what that will mean.

I took a few Mary's sugar cookies that V made, as well as some fudge.

When I got to Woodridge, the nurse said that she ate some soup for dinner
and seemed like she was feeling better.
When I unlocked Mema's door, she was laying on her bed,
clothes still on, but shoes off.
She had her glasses on.
She woke up when I came in.
"Well, hello honey!"
She struggled to sit up, and I propped some pillows behind her.
She only had one hearing aid in, so I found the other on her dresser,
and helped her put it on.
I told her that Ronni had made some cookies, and she wanted to try one.
She figured she should sit up.
I gave her a bright green christmas tree
and she said it tasted just like the ones she used to make.
I told her it was Christmas Eve tomorrow and was checking on her
to see if she wanted to come for dinner.
"I would like to.  I can't believe it's already Christmas Eve."

I told her a memory I had of when we were little kids, on Christmas Eve.
She had to work late, so all us kids were kneeling on the couch
waiting for her to come home.
It was so dark and it was snowing harder than any of us could remember.
We couldn't have Christmas until Grandma got home!
We waited and waited what seemed like hours.
You would have thought we were waiting on Santa himself!
Soon, we saw her car driving up the road.
We knew it was her car because it was so very late,
and we hadn't seen any cars for a long while.
We all jumped around and were so very happy!
After she got her coat off and hung up,
gathered all the family in the family room,
and received all the hugs from all of her grandchildren,
we had Christmas!

Mema, smiled and said that she remembered that night.
That she did have to work late.
She was always volunteering so others could go home to be with their families.
How I love that lady!

All of the sudden it was like someone had switched off a light.
Mema said she didn't know where she was.
It seemed like she was supposed to be somewhere else, but didn't remember where.
Her eyes looked blank and foggy.
She finished her cookie and bit of sprite,
but was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring into the mirror.
"I don't know where I am."
I told her that she was in her apartment and that she was safe.
"How long have I been here?"
My answers varied each time she asked.
A few months,
right after dinner you came in and took a nap,
it's ok to be confused, you are safe.

I got her into her pajamas,
she spit out her teeth, and I couldn't find her tooth case,
so I put efferdent into a coffee cup.
We took her hearing aids out and her glasses off.
She had difficulty standing when I pulled her sheets down, but snuggled in after.
"Maybe after I sleep, I'll remember where I am.
I just don't remember where I was before."

I told her goodnight and that I loved her.
"I love you too honey.  Don't you worry about me, I'll be better after I sleep."

After I left, I ran into a nurse.
I hugged her and started crying.
She told me not to worry, that they were taking very good care of my grandma.
The only thing I could do was to give her a thumbs up!
I couldn't speak.
I had a huge lump in my throat.
I waved and left.
I cried in the car all the way home.
I had a cappucinno martini.
Now I am going to put the Christmas ham into the oven.
A few more gifts to wrap.

Thank you God for giving me a few minutes with Grandma.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring,
but it is all in Your hands!
Your wonderful, loving hands!

BitterSweet

I woke up late this morning.
Was going to try to make early church, but decided to sleep an extra hour.
It felt good.
The weather has been so very unpredictable as of late.

My weather app on the iPhone...
(how silly that sounds!  kind of like saying I played the 8 track tape)

anyway, the weather was 40-70% chance of rain and a high of 39 degrees.
I was greeting and handing out bulletins at church today,
so I snuggled into my heavy, fleecy coat, scarf and gloves.

As folks were coming out of church they greeted and hugged me,
as I was greeting and hugging folks coming into church.
"OOOOOO your cheeks are so cold!"
"OOOOOO your cheeks are so warm!" was my reply.

It was a wonderful service, full of great worship, lovely Christmas decorations,
and an energetic sermon:
What do you do if it seems like God doesn't hear your prayers?
I was thinking to myself, how very much I seemed to have missed Pastor Sam
and his energy, even though I saw him last Sunday.
Lots of people hurting and needing miracles this time of year.

As I was driving over to see Mema, my mom called and told me that
the nurse had called her this morning, and said that Mema had the stomach flu.
She was very embarrassed and confused.
I talked to the nurse when I got there at lunch time and she filled me in.
They are running some urinary infection tests
because that sometimes causes some confusion.
I took some soup and crackers to her room,
knocked and waited for her to answer.

She eventually opened the door and smiled when she saw me.
Then she turned around and just flopped onto the bed.
Shoes on, pants askew, no glasses.
Not even near the pillows.

I helped her off with her shoes and pants,
adjusting the depends, that she began wearing today,
fluffed her pillows and threw an afghan over her tiny little body.
She smiled at me again.
"I just don't know what I did, that I'm so confused now."
I told her that her tummy had been rumbling for a few days,
and that the nurses were in her room helping her early this morning.
She was just so tired.

She rolled over onto her side, and shut her eyes.
I climbed in right beside her and she patted my hand and told me she loved me.
(Yup, I'm tearing up again, just like I did then.)

I kept my hand on her arm, and my head close to hers, until she fell asleep.
I kicked off my own shoes, and found her Bible by the bedside.
As my sweet Grandma slept, I read her Bible that was on the desk beside the bed.
As I leafed through the Bible, given to her on Mother's Day 1978,
I cherished every page I turned.

My Grandma had always cut out "important to her" items out of magazines,
the Daily Bread, prayers she has written down, etc.
In her Bible these mementos were taped
in every possible space of every empty page.
The tape was deep yellow and very brittle.
I could read every piece she had saved.

Most items seemed to be about getting old.
About the young self being in the old "house".
Prayers for forgiveness, for failing God in some way during the day,
and to let her walk for Him the next day.
Scripture passages under topics of forgiveness, strength, living, etc.
Someday soon, I'll write these out, and include them.

Every once in a while, her breathing would change,
and she would look over at me.
I would tell her it was ok, that I was here.
One time I touched her cheek, and she touched my hand.
One time I patted her hand and she rubbed mine with her thumb.
Then she would roll over and go back to sleep.

It was the most beautiful time I can ever think of spending with my Grandma.
What a sweet, wonderful woman.
She is always kind, even when she is confused or angry.
She worries about taking up my time with sitting with her,
when there is absolutely no place on Earth I would rather be!

She knows her memory is slipping quickly and this scares her.
I can see the fear and confusion as she sits looking into the mirror
wondering if there is something she is supposed to do,
or worrying if the door is locked because there is a "freak"
that walks around turning door knobs and doesn't talk or smile.

After a while, we put on her pants and shoes
and took a walk to the lobby and back.
She was tired, so she sat on her bed again.

I left her after four hours, with some sprite and some jelly toast on her bedside table.
I don't believe she went to dinner
as she hasn't eaten much of anything for three days.
The nurse went to check on her after I left.
I trust them and see how sweet they are to her.
What a loving staff.
I kissed Grandma goodbye at least five times.
I just didn't want to go.
I am so very blessed to have had this woman in my life,
my whole life.
I feel sorry for my relatives, that do not have the opportunity
to love on her as I am doing.
It breaks my heart that they haven't seen her in a few years
and do not even know what she is going through.

She is childlike.
She is my history.
She is fading.

Thank you God for allowing me to see her heading down the road to meet you.
I pray that she goes peacefully when He takes her.
I am ready to say good bye, and will miss her so very much.
She is my back bone.
I see so much of myself in her.
But I am ready because she is ready.

The above pics were taken two years ago on her birthday.
It is dramatic how much changes in just 730 days.