Caregiving can cost much more than the investment of time and energy caregivers share with their loved ones suffering from Alzheimer’s or other dementia disorders. Oftentimes loving caregivers dig deep within their own pockets to supply resources their loved one cannot afford for themselves. I’m sharing this wise investment advice from my husband knowing that there are many family care givers who have risked their own financial resources to care for a parent.
A potentially risky decision that some caregivers make is to take out a home equity loan in order to pay for nursing home and caregiving expenses. By no means am I suggesting by sharing this article that we should ignore the needs of ailing parents and loved ones; rather, that we should all give careful consideration to planning for the uncertainties of the future so as to avoid risky financial decisions which may haunt us for a lifetime.
Source: Borrowing to Invest – HELOC
I will probably run out of friends and family before I run out of things to give away. But, in this process, I’m learning much about the value of things in comparison with the value of being a blessing to others.
I’ve been working my way through some of mom’s possessions which followed her from her apartment to her new abode in our home. I’ve been trying to put as many of her decorative objects into use here as I have room, so as to make her feel more comfy and at home. Though she has already been through two other downsizing events in the past two years, we are still left with way more items than she needs (or can appreciate in this stage of Alzheimer’s). As much as possible has been given to family members who have expressed an interest in her belongings. My daughter took on the responsibility of selling or giving away the furniture that was no longer needed (and I am SO grateful for her help). Each day the invasion of moving boxes on my 3-season porch gets smaller as I carve out time to go through their contents. For this, I am grateful. Continue reading “Stuff Exchange Blessings”
Sometimes “church” doesn’t just take place on Sunday morning seated in a pew in a sanctuary.
Last night Momma sat at her end of our kitchen table smiling. Seated around our table were some pretty special dinner guests: my girlhood pastor and his wife, Ed and Diane Fuller, and their son and daughter-in-law, Scott and Dianne Fuller.
I told Momma about the visit shortly after she awoke in the morning. It’s funny how certain future events linger in the mind of a person experiencing significant short-term memory loss, yet other things slip right through like sand through a chicken wire sieve. Continue reading “Church at the Kitchen Table”
My 3-season porch is looking more like a porch than a moving company warehouse. Slowly but surely, the boxes are being emptied, things are finding their home, and order is being made of boxed chaos.
I’ve been spending time sorting through dozens of photo albums over the past few days. It’s been a trip down memory lane – complete with laughter, a few embarrassing moments, rushes of happy thoughts, a few tears and momentary sadness.
My sweet Momma spent countless hours at a little table in her basement putting the incredible number of photos my Dad took through the years into carefully labeled photo albums. Dad took LOTS of pictures. A CrAzY number of pictures. Every time you scratched your nose or stuffed something in your mouth (or so it seemed to me), he was there snapping a photo. But, he captured a LOT of family memories too. Continue reading “A Smile from Dad”
If you’re one of the lovely people who write my sweet Momma, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Letter writing is an all but lost art. Who doesn’t love the surprise of opening their mailbox and finding a letter or card from a loved one or friend? Continue reading “Sending Love in an Envelope”
Every now and again – at least once every summer – I get a hankering for a good Three-Bean Salad, so I pull out my trusty “The Good Housekeeping Cookbook” circa 1976 wedding shower gift and turn right to page 395. (I’m baffled as to why I can remember something as obscure as a page number in a cookbook I use once in a blue moon, but can’t remember where I put the book I was reading a few minutes ago).
Momma and I aren’t the only ones who have difficulty keeping our thoughts on track though. Case in point. Continue reading “Where do Garbanzo Beans Come From?”