I am not alone

The more I write about my journey as a daughter and Alzheimer’s caregiver, the more I realize I am not alone on this bumpy road. Since I began journaling on Facebook two years ago, and now on my blog, I have been amazed by the number of friends, family and readers who have shared that they have been or are on a similar journey in life.

James 1I shouldn’t be surprised. When I open the pages of my Bible to the book of James, I am reminded in the very first chapter that “trials of various kinds” are to be expected. They are, in fact, necessary in the growing process of producing a steadfast faith.

James even says that I am to “count it all joy” when these trials, testings and troubles in life come my way. Now, I don’t think James was necessarily talking the laugh until your sides split kind of joy, but the inner confidence that radiates from within knowing that, with God, I’m going to make it through this and be stronger in the end. It’s the complete trust that this trial or test will give me an opportunity to grow, to stretch my faith, to seek His wisdom, and to demonstrate to a watching world by my actions that my religion is not vain or worthless, and that my God is nothing short of awesome.

I am further reminded in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that “no temptation has seized me, except what is common to man.” My Bible study companion these days has been Dr. Joseph M. Stowell’s book, The Upside of Down, subtitled, “Finding Hope When it Hurts.” He tells me that the word “temptation” in this verse comes from the same group of words as the word “trials” in James 1:2, and that it could also be translated “troubles.”

My “trouble” or “trial” in life at the moment is being a caregiver to my mother who struggles with Alzheimer’s. It would be foolish for me to think that I am alone on this journey. In addition to having the Lord with me, there are countless others who have been here before me. I need only look in the “comments” section of my blog or on Facebook, or to the private messages I receive from those who do not want to comment in public, to know that there are many others who even now are on the road with me. A plenitude of websites and Facebook pages are devoted to those who are facing the trial of caring for someone with dementia. I currently am part of a support group at www.myALZteam.com, whose stated purpose is to provide a social network for family and friends caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s. I write about my journey for them – and for those who are yet to sojourn here too.

If you are suffering through a trial, rest assured, what you’re going through is common to others. You can find someone else who has been there. My trial is the sometimes brutal and heart-rending task of taking care of Momma, a trial which pales in comparison to the trials of many others I know. Yours might be the devastating loss of a child, or estrangement from a spouse of many years. Perhaps it is the fear of the unknown due to a job loss, a scary medical diagnosis, or a financial upheaval. Or, just this week in the news, the many who suffered a sudden tragedy or loss at the hands of someone whose mindset was diabolically evil. No matter what your trial might be, look for someone who has been there before – someone who brought glory to God in the end.

Maybe you’re the one who is already on the other end of that trial – already experiencing the joy in seeing how God was at work in your life – securely resting in the knowledge that the trial was for your good and God’s glory. If that’s you, please reach out to someone who is still trudging forward in the muck and mire of their personal journey with pain. Put your hand on their shoulder and tell them that you understand. You’ve been there. For you, my friend, are the one who can honestly say from your heart, “Let’s talk. Let’s pray about this together. We’ll get through this together, by God’s grace and for His glory.”

Trusting in God When Mountains Crumble

This morning Momma emerged from her room carrying a photograph and a ballpoint pen. She had an all too familiar look of confusion on her face as she shuffled walker-less to her place at the kitchen table. As she gingerly turned herself and plopped hard in her chair she lamented, “I just can’t remember anything today. What day it is, what time it is, who I am, why I’m here. It’s all so confusing. And who is this in this picture?”

I took a peek at the picture to see if I could help. It was one of the pictures my sister had been wondering about. The photo, along with a handful of other pictures of Viv’s children in their growing up years, had mysteriously disappeared during her last visit with Momma. Knowing Mom’s propensity to hide things, Viv had texted asking me to keep an eye out for the photos. I had found the others, but had missed this one.

“That’s your grandson Scotty when he was a boy. He’s a daddy himself now.” Momma sat silently studying the picture for a few moments, willing her mind to remember, but obviously drawing a blank. “Oh, no! I wrote on the back of it!”

Momma’s handwriting was definitely on the back of it, and the picture had been ruined by the tell-tale ballpoint markings. Momma had used the photo as if it were a piece of scrap paper, copying what she had read off of the face of the clock in her bedroom. Momma tried to reconcile what she had written on the photo with what she saw on the clock on the microwave. “No, it’s supposed to be 7:13, not 7:30!”

There was no point in trying to explain that time changes by the second. This was one of those moments in Momma’s changing world of Alzheimer’s where I could almost feel another piece of Momma’s mind slipping away.

I asked Momma if she remembered her name. She assured me she knew it, but wouldn’t say it. I prompted, “Of course, you know you’re Charlotte Peet Boyles.” She looked relieved at the reminder of what her name was as she nodded her head in agreement. I smiled at Momma in an effort to encourage and calm her, but on the inside, I cried knowing she was fearful of what was happening to her.

I find comfort in knowing I am not alone in this phase of life. I follow a blog called “God’s Grace and Mom’s Alzheimer’s.” The author’s own Mama had gone Home to be with Jesus in December of 2016, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Cheryl had been there with her through it all. Now, her mother-in-law lives with her, traveling a similar path in life. Today’s post met me where I am. I share it (click on the link below) for those of you who are in a similar place in life right now – in need of a reminder of God’s grace in the midst of a seemingly impossible trial.

Source: Trusting in God When Mountains Crumble

Life: Just a Few Handbreadths

As I take care of Momma, the familial aspect of Alzheimer’s disease sometimes scares me. That fear isn’t all bad, in that it helps me realize that it is true that my lifetime is just a “few handbreadths,” a “mere vapor” that will pass before I know it. What I do with my days really does matter. Continue reading “Life: Just a Few Handbreadths”

Legal Matters Matter

Wayne and I recently checked one more thing off of Momma’s to-do list mentioned in the following story posted on Facebook in 2016. We met with our local funeral director and pre-paid Mom’s funeral. It’s nice to have that one out of the way. There are so many financial planning and legal matters to attend to when it comes to caring for a loved one who can no longer care for themselves. I hope by sharing this information, light is shed on someone else’s journey.

Facebook journal entry – February 4, 2016

As far back as I can remember, Momma was always a list maker; life just rolled better once her thoughts and plans were written down on paper. I know the feeling. I enjoy the physical act of checking things off of my to-do lists too. Some may think me crazy, but, when I accomplish an unexpected task, I add the job to my to-do list just so I can experience the euphoric mini-rush of being able to check it off as “DONE!”
Two summers ago, Momma’s memory loss was beginning to advance. I had been noticing changes since 2010, but Mom had been able to disguise her forgetfulness and few people knew she was struggling. In the summer of 2014, she was still having more good memory days than bad, but her memory loss was making its ugly presence known – and others were noticing the changes too. Her friends at church would patiently listen to her tell the same story several times in a conversation or ask the same question repeatedly.
That summer Wayne and I began to make more frequent trips to see Mom. While Wayne would help her with household handyman projects and matters related to finances, I would work with Mom puttering in her garden or working indoors with her on various decluttering projects.
As we spent more time with Mom, I believe that God helped us see that stress – real or perceived – adversely affected Momma’s memory. I began spending more time at Mom’s house helping her tackle the paperwork that was threatening to overwhelm her. The bed in my old bedroom was hard to find beneath the sea of junk mail, bank statements, file folders, binders and clipboards. Scattered throughout this paper jungle were various legal pads, notebooks and miscellaneous pads of papers where mom was obviously trying to jot down tasks on her to-do lists. Mom had boxes and boxes of files, but didn’t have a system for filing that was working for her. I started taking home a box at a time and, with Wayne’s help, weeded out the stuff she didn’t need to keep, condensed the duplicate files, and then created a much smaller A-Z file system for her. Our son Matt got involved in this project too, helping create a more streamlined household filing system for her.
That summer, Wayne and I chose to spend time reading her various lists and couldn’t help but notice one theme showing up quite often: Momma wanted to take care of end-of-life legal and financial matters. We decided that this needed to be a stress-relieving priority, given the relative clarity of thought she was having now versus the unknown path her thought process might take in the future.
Gathering up her legal documents and financial statements, Wayne and I started to wade through and organize them making our own lists of things that needed to be updated, questions that needed to be asked, and people we needed to meet. Then, with mom’s blessing, our first stop was to meet with Mom’s lawyer. Now that Dad had gone to his heavenly home, Mom wanted to make sure that everything was updated. We made an appointment and were so glad we did. We worked with Mom’s lawyer to update her will and, while we were at it, updated both her financial and healthcare power of attorney (POA) legal documents (Power of Attorney for Healthcare and Durable Power of Attorney). This step alone came in handy for many of the tasks we would want to accomplish over the next few months.
Wayne’s review of Mom’s retirement accounts caused him to raise his eyebrows. The funds were being managed by two different advisors; one doing a respectable job, the other – not so much. Numerous unreasonable fees were eating away at any gains her accounts were making. Together with Mom, we decided to move one of her two accounts into a Fidelity account and allow Wayne to oversee and manage them. With her Durable Power of Attorney paperwork in hand, we were able to handle these financial decisions and changes on mom’s behalf. Receiving all of the investment related documents in the mail was very confusing for Mom, so we changed the mailing address to our own. Wayne then condenses the information into a single page summary document listing her current balances in her various financial and investment accounts.
The next stop on our “Momma’s to-do-list journey” was to take her to the cemetery where Dad is buried. Several years ago, Mom and Dad had purchased two plots from a friend who had a few plots she had inherited that she wanted to sell. Based upon the paperwork I had in hand and a few phone calls I had made, I was confident that everything was in order. Mom just wanted to double-check that everything was pre-paid and in order for her own future interment. We stopped at the cemetery’s office to speak with the attendant and were assured that all of the necessary prepayment was in order.
We then drove to the section where Dad was buried and set out to find Dad’s grave marker. As we slowly moved through row upon row of tombstones and markers, I was reminded that there is more to getting ready for the inevitableness of death than taking care of financial matters. I whispered a prayer of thanksgiving that both of my parents had taken care of the most important thing. Well, actually, Christ had taken care of that on the cross for them…Mom and Dad just accepted His gift of salvation by faith.
We found the marker. As Momma and I stood arm in arm reading the grave marker together, it seemed odd seeing her name on the marker too. Glancing at Momma to see how she was doing, I saw a peaceful smile.
Over lunch following our visit to the cemetery, we talked with Mom about what her wishes were concerning her future burial plans. An incredibly tough discussion, but I am quite sure her concerns over the future were visibly replaced by a gentle peace of mind.
At the end of our summer of checking many things off mom’s to-do lists, I created a special binder to house all of the important documents related to end-of-life matters. This binder includes:
  • Power of attorney documents
  • Original copy of her will (along with a copy)
  • Cemetery and burial plot titles and documentation
  • Mom’s wishes related to her funeral service – including the hymns and scriptures she would like to include
  • A list of people mom would like me to notify concerning her home-going
  • A list of legal tasks I will need to complete.

Admittedly, this reference binder is more for me, than for mom. When God chooses to call my mother home to heaven, my job of honoring her final wishes will be much easier. On this side of Glory, we will enjoy our time with mom and rejoice in knowing our summer of checking things off her to-do lists brought her great peace of mind.