After Midnight Search

I’ve been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately. I fall asleep just fine, then awaken about an hour later and have trouble getting back to sleep. Last night was one of those nights. Stumbling upon this blog post from a year ago served as a reminder that I am blessed to not have to juggle my occasional sleepless nights with Momma’s frequent all-nighters without sleep. I am so blessed that she is safely in the care of the wonderful staff at BeeHive. What a blessing.

Barefoot Lily Lady

Sometimes life is just clearer in retrospect.

I know now that I should have responded to the video monitor’s prompting much sooner. Perhaps I would have been able to get more sleep if I had gone to Mom’s mental rescue sooner. It was after midnight, and Momma was having yet another bad night struggling with sundowning. I watched and listened in on the monitor as she yanked the chain on her bedside lamp and sat up in bed talking to herself. Nothing new; the same questions she always asks – those questions that never go away, even with an answer. I heard the familiar “zip” of her purse as she went through the contents of her purse over and over again. Between each examination of the contents, she would carefully hide the purse beneath her bed sheets. Then, in delighted surprise moments later, “find” the purse and go through the…

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A Little ‘Hello’

What a blessing to receive a little ‘hello’ in the mail. I know I’ve told you about my friend Suzy who sends a beautiful handmade card each week. At first her cards were addressed to my mom (but always meant a lot to me too). About the time Momma moved to BeeHive, Alzheimer’s began to chip away at her ability to read and appreciate her mail. Suzy asked if she should discontinue sending the cards. I hesitated in answering because I loved them so much. The very next week, Suzy began addressing those encouraging notes to me. Each note always brightens my day, but this particular note was extra-special. Suzy chose to inscribe an encouraging quote from one of my favorite authors:

Life is hard.

God is good.

Glory is coming.

Therefore, stand firm in His grace.

John Piper

It is amazing to observe how many times my friend’s weekly ministry of written encouragement and exhortation “just happens to be” exactly what I need on the day I receive the mail and zip open the envelope.

The day I received this ‘hello’ included several personal challenges for me and even harder physical challenges for Momma. God, in his goodness, allowed me to better understand just how hard life is for my sweet mother, and how incredibly blessed she is to be in a place where she is so loved and so cared for. I could definitely see His goodness in the midst of this hard day.

Glory is coming, Momma.

Being Momma’s Friend

After lunch today, Mom’s sweet caregiver Nicole gently applied pain cream to mom’s painful knees. I had been busy putting things away in Mom’s room and returning things that she had gathered from other rooms. As soon as Mom saw me approach, her eyes lit up with gratefulness that I was there. Nicole asked Mom who I was, to which Mom replied, “It’s her.” Pressing her a little more, Nicole gently said, “What’s her name? Could you introduce me to her?” Momma thought for a few seconds, but couldn’t. Nicole quickly restored her dignity by saying, “Oh, yes! I remember! You told me she’s your daughter and her name is Cindie!” Momma nodded and smiled.

After a bit of small talk, Momma wanted to take a walk – which means tooling around the building in her wheelchair. I followed behind, sometimes holding onto her wheelchair. At one point she reached back and put her hand on top of mine and said, “I’m just making sure you’re still here.”



Little Bouquets of Floral Joy

Join me today as I link up with our host The Propagator  and a plethora of other gardeners around the world who each post pictures of six things going on in their respective world of gardening. Six things, in the garden, on a Saturday. This week, I decided to show you how I share the beauty of the garden God has blessed with floral abundance.

For as long as I’ve been gardening, Momma always enjoyed it when I shared a little sampler of what was going on in my garden. Last Spring I began bringing her a little bouquet whenever I visit her at BeeHive, her assisted living home. I always put her flowers in her little blue vase she had hanging for years over her kitchen window…you can see the little holes where a rope once looped through to make it a hanging vase. I’ve long since removed the rope, but love this sweet little thing – something I would like to keep as a treasure to remind me of my mom.

Sadly, Alzheimer’s has a way of sucking the joy right out of the things that used to bring Mom pleasure and delight. Mom didn’t seem to enjoy my floral bouquets anymore. One day I decided I’d put her little bouquet on the table where she and 3 or 4 other residents enjoyed their meal. The sheer delight of her friends splashed joy all over me.

It dawned on me that there were two more tables with residents who would love a jar filled with a little floral joy at their table too. The next day, and nearly every day since, I picked a few more flowers and a few little “filler” bits from my garden — three stems of each type of flower or filler. When I arrived at BeeHive to visit Mom, I arranged three nearly identical little bouquets — one for each table.

Oh, what joy the simple bouquets bring!

Flowers leave some of their fragrance in the hand that bestows them. ~ Chinese proverb

Pumping Gas and other forgotten things

Journal entry dated May 30, 2019

My car ‘dings’ a gentle reminder when it needs refueled within the next 50 miles. My hubby usually does this for me, but today I’ll need to care for this task myself because I’ve ignored the dings a little too long.

My Dad had always filled Mom’s gas tank too. When Dad knew he was losing his battle with cancer, that’s one of many things he taught my mom how to do. She tried a few times after he left for heaven, but then found a gas station that would send an attendant out to pump the gas for her for just a few cents more per gallon. My brother Brad thought it was silly to pay extra, so he tried to show her how to pump gas too. Mom just couldn’t remember the steps. Brad didn’t have his own wheels anymore, so didn’t mind filling the tank for her so he could buy himself a cup of decent coffee, a donut and a pack of smokes.

Today I confidently pulled up to the gas pump to fill my own tank and was happy to remember this recently learned factoid: there’s a little left or right arrow next to the gas pump symbol on your dashboard’s fuel gauge – it tells you which side of the car your gas cap is on. I would never have to turn around and pull up on the other side of the pump again. Cool, huh?

Have you ever noticed the arrow next to the fuel pump symbol?

My glib confidence came to a screeching halt when I reached for my credit card. Now, I only carry two credit cards, yet I was stumped. “Hmmmm, I could text Wayne and ask him.” But that would be embarrassing. He has reminded me time and time again which one to use to purchase gasoline. How could I admit that I didn’t remember again?

I used to keep a reminder sticky note on the card, but that had fallen off somewhere along the way. After a few minutes of inner debate, I chose one of the cards and got out of the car. It had been so long since I pumped gas I had to read the instructions on the pump. Twice. I felt the eyes of the kid at pump #3 watching me, trying to figure out if he should assist the confused lady at pump #4. I felt embarrassed.

Was this how my mom felt when she knew she was forgetting things?

I pumped the gas and printed the receipt for my hubby’s use in updating our budget spreadsheet, then headed to visit my mom. Hot tears overwhelmed me as I drove those 9.9 miles. I cried because I was pretty sure I had guessed wrong on the credit card. I cried because I now understood how helpless Momma felt. Mostly though, I cried because forgetting things scares me. I’m walking this road of memory loss with my mom and I know it’s hard (and sometimes harder) on the one who is the caregiver. It truly grieves my heart to think that my husband, daughter or son, or a grandchild may walk this road with me some day.

I sat in the parking lot of mom’s assisted living facility and blotted my tears before heading in to see her. My heart smiled as Mom exclaimed a little yelp of joy when she saw me, and even told the friends seated at her lunch table, “See that lady there? She’s my best friend.”

After that heartwarming visit, I made a quick stop at a nearby gas station to buy a cup of coffee, then headed another block or so to the nursing home where my brother resides to visit a bit and bring him a cup of his favorite coffee. He was sleeping, so I left his coffee on his nightstand and headed home to get busy on my laundry. When I arrived home I gave Wayne the day’s receipts and was bummed to learn that, yes, I used the wrong credit card for the gas.

Alzheimer’s is a frighteningly hard path in life, but my walk alongside Momma has also given me firsthand experience seeing how God walks with us each and every step of this road paved with memory loss. While an underlying concern of personally having to experience this disease is always present, I have an even greater confidence God will give those I love much wisdom in walking alongside me if Alzheimer’s is ever my future.

In the meantime, I’m going to smile, grab my Sharpie marker, and write “GAS” in great big letters on my credit card as a visual reminder for the next fill-up.

Six on Saturday: Daylilies Still Reign

Every now and again I take time for a ‘Six on Saturday’ post – a fun gathering of gardeners around the globe hosted by The Propagator – who link up and post pictures of six things going on in their respective world of gardening. Six things, in the garden, on a Saturday. Could be anything – a flower, a favorite tool, a gardening book, a pest, a beautiful (or less than stellar) harvest, anything at all. Here are my six:

It’s the last week of July and daylilies are still reigning supreme in my garden. These queens of the garden seem to rather enjoy the recent rains followed by toasty hot weather. (The mosquitoes and Japanese beetles are enjoying it too…but we’ll not talk about them.)

Hemerocallis ‘Mighty Chestnut’ is magnificent. Flowers stay open longer than most daylily blossoms. It boasts a stunning deep burgundy eye and gold throat atop strong, heavily budded scapes. I plan to divide this one this year and move a piece or two to other flowerbeds.

Hemerocallis ‘Earlybird Cardinal’ is a striking flash of rich red along the front edge of my furthest flowerbed. I can see this beauty whenever I’m in my kitchen. I plan to take a division and move some closer to the house. This photo doesn’t do justice to the intensity and vibrancy of its red color.

The garden chair is definitely my most popular pic on social media this year. The phlox grows lovelier each week. I have another roadside treasure seatless chair to paint to use similarly as a flower ring…just need to get the urge to paint!

‘Annabelle’ hydrangea has pretty much taken over one corner of a front flowerbed. It’s kinda floppy at times, but quietly regal, making a lovely foil for surrounding hosta. [Photo credit: Mia Winquist]

This lovely daylily has been a reliable bloomer in my garden for many years, sending up more scapes than one would think a plant could possibly hold. I had lost the tag, so dubbed it ‘Beth’s Favorite’ because it was always my daughter’s favorite. I’m remembering now that it was probably called ‘Blueberry Cream’…but will stick with ‘Beth’s Favorite’ because it makes me think of her.

Ending my Six on Saturday garden tour on a very fragrant note… ‘Stargazer Lily,’ a lovely Oriental lily, has burst forth in glorious bloom this week. What an amazing, exotic perfume!

In Search of Charlotte’s Bathroom

Momma has had trouble for a number of years now finding the bathroom. Even the last year or so that she lived in her own home (since 1962), it was often “invisible” even though it was located right across the hall from her bedroom. She had a little better success finding the necessary-room when we moved into her senior apartment, but was still perplexed in finding it if she happened to get up on the side of the bed that was not facing her bathroom. With her back to the door, she could not see the bathroom, so it stood to reason that it just didn’t exist.

Later on, when we moved Momma in with us, our tiny half-bath became her bathroom. Even though she passed it oodles of times per day in her trek between the bedroom and kitchen, its location still eluded her. We came up with a very helpful solution by placing a sign above the bathroom door which could be read no matter whether she was seated in the kitchen at her usual spot at the table, or seated on the edge of her bed. [I wrote about that sign here.]

Momma now has a beautiful ensuite bathroom and shower combination at BeeHive, her home over the past several months. Even though her bathroom is just steps away from her bed, she oftentimes still does not “see” it. It’s understandable that she might be confused because the toilet itself is tucked away in the corner and all she can really see from her vantage point on the other side of the door is the walk-in shower and sink. So, I decided to try painting another sign that she could read from just about anywhere in her bedroom.

Wayne cut an appropriate length of board, primed it for me, then put some little hangers on it. I got out my paintbrushes and acrylic paints and had a little fun decorating a “Charlotte’s Bathroom” sign to hang over her bathroom door. I borrowed a ladder from the staff at her assisted living and hung it up for Momma just after lunch today. Mom sat on her bed watching me. As I “tap-tap-tapped” with my little pink hammer driving in the first nail, she read the sign over and over again. “Charlotte’s Bathroom.” She said it was a pretty sign, so I told her that I made it especially for her and was glad she liked it. She thanked me for making it for her and again read the sign as I reached for the second nail.

As I was pounding the second nail into the wall, Momma made me laugh when she said (with great urgency), “Now, where’s the bathroom?”

Well…I tried.