keeping clean

Spent the last two weeks at my parents' home. I HAVE to keep my hands busy or I go crazy. I read a bunch of books and crocheted a lot of wash cloths. Usually at least two a day. I got a book at WalMart, Crochet Stitch Guide by Jean Leinhauser and Mary Ann Frits. I'm learning a lot, and making wash cloths helps me learn and practice new stuff. I am pleased with the results. Although maybe I should have made a sampler afghan.

Unfortunately now it is just my mom's home. My father died while I was there. I can't fathom life without him in it... but I am glad his suffering in this life is over. And now those washcloths are helping me deal with the grief, just keep those hands busy. I've learned a few patterns that I could do in my sleep! Then of course I have to figure out what to do with them.... L {squared} might sell them. Or I'll donate them to the Rag Quilters. Or give some away.

this looks hard but is easy. Basically, you skip one ch and dc, then go back and dc in the skipped ch. For this one, every other row is sc.

sc 3, ch 3, skip 3 ch, 3 dc. 

twisted stitch, like above, but twists every row. 

four tied together for a gift.

March 2015

Another consolidation post from the wordpress blog. The days surrounding my dad's death.

I arrived March 11th  to spend a couple days with my parents.  Dad was doing pretty well, actually, considering he had spent the last few weeks in the rehab hospital. He had a good day with the physical therapist on Monday. By Thursday they could hardly awaken him. I got there and he was just sitting in his wheelchair, not particularly responsive. I did get him to sing "Show me the way to go home". But they took him back to bed.

At this point i think he was just getting tired; realizing that he was not going to be able to go home again. Mom and I had talked and talked and I told her that it was not going to be possible for her to take care of him any more and she agreed. She had struggled for a long time with it and sometimes I wonder where MY head was; expecting an almost-90 year old to be the caregiver. In my defense, we had started having a caregiver to come every morning to get him started and give my mom a chance to eat without having to help Dad. Can't blame Mom for not seeing. We have to take responsibility for our selves; but sometimes it is hard to see the problem from that perspective.

On Saturday, I was thinking of going home to do my laundry and such. I had talked to John B.  and how I didn't know if I should go home. He said, "no. I've seen that look. Don't go home. It's not going to be more than a few days"

I am thankful that John said that to me. Otherwise I might not have been there.

Each day it became clearer and clearer that it would be soon. He stopped being able to see anything. It was like he was seeing what I couldn't see. I sure wanted to know what he was seeing and experiencing but we don't get to do that.

March 15: Sunday, he asked me what he should do. I told him it was ok to let go, that it wasn't the same as giving up. He was talking very fast like he had to get it all in. I told him that Mom loved him very much and so did I. I had talked to T, and gave him an extra hug from her. He smiled. He gave me a hug and patted me on the back.

March 16: I got to spend the day with dad, talking to him about Heaven and singing to him. I remember lying there on his chest, just wanting to hold on and not let him go. But I kept telling him it was ok to go... I remember tracing the cross on his forehead and consecrating him to God.

Monday night I couldn't sleep. I kept waking up. At 3 or so I heard the elevator and someone walking in the hall. My heart started pounding, and I wondered if they would send someone up or if they would call. We got the call about 5:30 am.

March 17: my father died today. I would write it a million times and still would not believe it. I feel like cement. I can't move. I can't cry, I am just numb. I know that numbness is a gift from the Lord, really, and I don't want to get out of that numb feeling ever. I don't want to face his death.

March 18: I woke up early this morning thinking, why did I tell him to go? If I had just not said that, he would still be here. Rational thought takes over and knows that it was time. I don't have to like it. today I can say, my father died YESTERDAY which means we made it through a day. how can I bear it? I guess it is the usual one day at a time... I see that I was extremely fortunate to have a father at all... so many that I know do not. what a blessing God gave me!!

March 19: funny how it feels like the days are just creeping by. Tuesday I felt like cement. yesterday I was all wound up... a bit like that today. shake off the tension...the grief is a black ball kind of in the distance, yet I can see it in my head. DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY.

March 20: i still hate the sound. my dad died. DIED. I told him to go. He needed to go and mom will soon follow. it's okay, child. brother will too. Grandma's babies are all home. well done, Grandpa.

March 21: 4 days...nearly lost it when i saw the obituary...Made note to cry later since I was in the lobby. good-bad with John...his conversations about doctrines are confusing and slightly disturbing...Lord protect us and guide us...

March 22: almost feels like weeks instead of days. feeling like cement again. had my children around me... good. seeing grampa from their side...not by what they said but what they didn't say.

March 23: feeling like I can't get enough air. the grief is stifling....don't feel like I can express it yet... Must. Be. Strong. why?? Because of Mom. She's so on the edge. She will feel it like a ton of bricks when I leave.

March 24: Home. Cement again. I wandered this morning for awhile, around and around the blocks nearest our house. I am wondering how my mom is doing but can't seem to let myself call. He died LAST WEEK. Found out that Linda K. died the 17th too and Joan C. the day after.

Numb. I think I will stay here for awhile.

March 25: Sadness is the biggest today. Had cola (like having coffee but sounds odd!) with a friend. Hard to just be there and not overwhelm the conversation with my sorrow. Mom called and the death certificates and remains were delivered today and she said she was ok. It's hitting me hard. The reality of his being gone makes my heart ache. I have known for years that it was soon. I remember before wondering how I could bear it without having a heart attack. His gradual decline helped me I think; the biggest thing was I got to say goodbye and tell him it was ok to let go. Still, it challenges my faith in strange ways. Do I believe I will see him again or is that something I need to believe so it makes it easier to handle? Truthfully, my longing is not to see those who have gone before but to see the Lord face to face. But having my dad already going on ahead, I want to believe that I will see him again. Ultimately it isn't up to me, it's up to the Lord. So I take the doubts and fears and lay them at your feet, Lord.

March 26: The grief ball is grey now but it's huge. It's a quiet grief and not threatening to bowl me over. It feels like it is surrounding me but it isn't a bad thing. I am thinking of the good stuff. And thinking about my mom and how her grief is far deeper. A friend from long ago also died the day my dad did. The next day, an acquaintance from up the hill died. Another friend lost her baby at six months' gestation. A reminder of a couple things, I do not grieve alone.... and the life cycle goes on, birth, and death.

April 2: Sad, sad.... crying off and on. Another memory creeps in. Bittersweet. I scanned his garden book, that was good. I posted it online.

https://plus.google.com/photos/110061780493981559466/albums/6131515756736100017

Mom and I have been talking about how to honor his memory best and I think we are going to display some of his art work in a glass cabinet that is used to display such things, in the lobby. I miss him.

April 5: This is an anger day. I don't want to be grieving, I want my dad. Ok....  It is Easter Sunday and that part of me is filled with gladness, knowing that our Lord provided away of forgiveness for that anger. Thank You, Lord...

So. Going to turn from the anger and look forward to seeing my kids and grandbabies. Ahhhh a cuddle day. Now what was that anger about, LOL?

April 13: sad today. I miss the thought that I could go see him and give him a hug. I miss his pat on the back. I am thankful that he was awake that last day and I got to be there. I did not want him to continue suffering. I am glad that he didn't linger.

BUT..... I MISS MY DADDY.

SAD and glad...

My dad and his great-grandson

my father died and I am sad and glad.

Mostly sad. Mostly deeply sad… but glad because his suffering is over, glad because he knew us until the end, that I had the blessing of saying goodbye and releasing him to the Lord. Thankful that he was pretty active until a few days before, that his mind was pretty clear, thankful that my brother came for a few days, but incredibly sad that I have lost my daddy, He was the best dad and I am so thankful that I got to keep him so long. Ninety years is a long life. My parents would have been married seventy years next month. A long, lovely marriage. Such a gift to have been a part of their lives. Thank you, Lord...
.

Sad and Glad but not very.

MARCH 15, 2015

sadglad

my father died and I am sad and glad.

Mostly sad. Mostly deeply sad… but glad because his suffering is over, glad because he knew us until the end, that I had the blessing of saying goodbye and releasing him to the Lord. Thankful that he was pretty active until a few days before, that his mind was pretty clear, thankful that my brother came for a few days, but incredibly sad that I have lost my daddy, He was the best dad and I am so thankful that I got to keep him so long. Ninety years is a long life. My parents would have been married seventy years next month. A long, lovely marriage. Such a gift to have been a part of their lives. Thank you, Lord.

writing.... and writing and writing.

 

 

I always have this obsession to write. I found a book, Write to Discover Yourself by Ruth Vaughn. I just barely started reading it, and it immediately overwhelmed me. But I can’t stay away.

I have filled notebook after notebook with my thoughts and dreams. Last summer, I destroyed most of them, thinking, I don’t want anyone else reading that stuff. And yet, off and on I write here, where anyone in the world might stumble on it!

So I am starting again, filling notebook after notebook. Maybe more here, maybe not.

My grandpa wrote a lot. My mom didn’t catch that, but I sure did. I still have a notebook of his writings, maybe someday one of us will get stuff published somehow. Never had that desire for my own stuff.

This is a collection of snippets from another blog that I had. These are about the journey of watching your parents get older. 

MARCH 8, 2015

 

The last entry about my mother in law was awhile ago. I think it just became so painful I couldn’t write. It is no longer funny when you go to see her and she is going around and around in her wheelchair counting the times she puts her hand on the railing, and not even counting in order. It is no longer funny when you go see her and she doesn’t know anything but that she is in intense pain. It isn’t funny when you see a caregiver treat her in an uncaring manner; and when you understand the caregiver’s attitude since she has also tried to bite you.

She died almost a year ago. It was a sad blessing. My mother in law was in and out of the hospital. So was my dad. But the day came when both she and my dad went in the same day. I went one way and K the other. My father had fallen and broken his shoulder in three places, my mother in law had cellulitus and a UTI. My father’s brain was bleeding; my mother in law got c. diff. infection. I didn’t know if either of them would survive.

They both survived that crisis; but my mother in law died a week later. She was 98. She couldn’t see, hear, eat…. so yes it was a blessing. But I loved her very much and miss her every day.

My father also survived. Now, however, he may have entered the world of dementia. Strange how there are similar roads, yet different. I don't see much of anything at this point, but they did a screening, and apparently it showed "cognitive decline"

This time I know way more. I know the deep heartbreak ahead of time. But I also know how to talk to him. I know how to climb into his world.

I am thankful I have had my parents so long. I know I don’t get to keep them forever. Sometimes I can see ahead, and know where my dad is going… and rejoice. Right now it’s hard to watch the downhill journey..