~ Shelter-in-Place Day 1~

SIP has started, the first four days of this week was a strongly suggested SIP and for anyone 65 and over or with underlying health issues were asked to self-quarantined last Sunday. The legal mandate for everyone began at midnight.

I went for two long walks, wandering through the streets that wind through the town homes near my home.  On my morning walk I made a video of the garden park for coworker who is home with her two Grandsons (ages 4 & 5) she is raising. We chatted via texting, getting to know each other a little more. Another coworker brought me a stack of movies to watch on our DVD player. She also bought me a 300 piece jigsaw puzzle and gel pens.  

Good things are happening from this quarantine.  Connecting and building relationships with people I know. Musicians live streaming their music on Facebook. Lots of fun ideas and tips for families. Our schools are shut down, home school Mamas are giving tips for the newly those who found themselves thrown into the home school mode. To keep our wits about us, silly memes and jokes about the SIP.  It is a serious health crisis but humor offsets the stress and worry. Museums are putting up artwork, the metropolitan opera is streaming nightly. Zoos and aquariums are also live streaming as well as churches. An app called Zoom is being used for meetings and social gatherings. Social media, I think is taking a different turn. People helping, connecting and being positive. At least that's what I'm seeing. 

As I walked down a lane and rounded the corner a feeling of peace came over me.  It's taken me all week to accept what is happening and adapt to it. Everyday things changed ( still does with numbers and projections) but once they made the decision to do a mandated SIP I think that helped. "Okay, this is happening...I can accept and adapt." Once a decision is made, accepting and adapting is so much easier. 

Am I scared about getting Coronavirus? Yeah. Am I scared for my family? Yeah. Am I scared how bad this could get? How many could contract it and die? Hell yeah I am. 

But today I intentionally chose to be grateful, to accept and to adapt. 

And that is half the battle.

LynetteJoy

Shelter-In-Place

Today is Thursday, March 19 and at midnight tonight the mandatory order for shelter-in-place begins to flatten the curve of the Coronavirus.  Residents are ordered to stay home. This is happening all over California. We can go to the store for supplies, take walks, and go to work if they are essential jobs. My husband and son work in essential job. I worry about them. My son works at a retail pet store and is around a lot of people. Hopefully the amount of shoppers will begin reducing. My husband works for Sutter Health in the mail room, he is around a limited amount of people. The Preschool was going to reopen on March 30th but with the new orders we are closed to until April 13. The church the school is associated with is committed to paying their part-time employees until the end of April. So at least we have pay checks coming in. This is sad, scary and surreal. I get my head wrapped around it and then there are more developments. I'm working toward a positive mentality of accepting it and finding a new normal. Settling into a routine while finding the blessings and joys in each day.

LynetteJoy

~Thirty Days~

A lot has happened in a very short time. In just a mere 30 days I visited my Dad, he died, co-planned a funeral, cleaned out his personal belongings, return to work, filled out beneficiary paperwork, became 1/3 owner of his house and had the stomach flu.

Then boom...Coronavirus hit our shores and panic set in. The fear had already started but we were kinda busy planning a funeral and burying our Dad.

Our Preschool is shutdown for two weeks. Every school district in the Sacramento County has closed down. Events cancelled and churches have closed. Big box stores shelves are empty. The great race for Toilet Paper had commenced.

As much as I worry about everything this virus has not phased me ( okay, just a few minutes of concern on Wednesday night but it was short lived). I believe the virus is serious but the panic in the air is over the top. By Friday I thought, OMG....I have got to grocery shop before everyone else buys things off the shelf or the world shuts down. No worries, regular stores are well stocked ( I don't do Costco) and even if things were limited I'd buy whatever was available and get creative with it.

So here I was getting back to normal, excited because family was coming from out of state and feeling like my old self. Then a school district closed, possibly of our Preschool closing and my family cancelled as the virus spread along with fear and panic.
Totally annoyed me. Oh well, what can a girl do? I saw a post on Facebook....

Music...not cancelled
Laughing...not cancelled
Getting outdoors...not cancelled
Reading...not cancelled
Singing...not cancelled

I would add: writing, dancing, cooking, games, & meditating not cancelled.

Life goes on amidst all this. Appointments, work, and laundry. How come no one has cancelled laundry? When did everything became a emergency? When did everything become breaking news? We live in a hyper-vigilant world.

I just spent the last 16 months living in a hyper-vigilant state knowing my Dad was going to get worse and die. It's over now. I'm going to take the next two weeks and let my mind, body and soul continue to heal. To re-energize and re-focus. With this national emergency I do not have to worry about my Dad. His passing was timely, just before this all blew up.

LynetteJoy

~I Won't Forget~

That Saturday evening and the words, "your Dad just passed away." Pacing, sinking into my chair, standing at counter making coffee, shudders going through my body. Husband springing into action while my brain froze grappling with the intensity of those words. Both of us in living room where on many occasions Daddy sat, receiving the news. "No, I just saw him a few hours ago. Thank God I saw him today." 

I won't forget that hour and half I spent with him. Our last minutes together looking at photos I brought with me. Photos I scrambled around the house early in day gathering. I had three things in my bag to bring to him. It was the photos that I pulled out after we sat in silence for a few moments, I held his hand.

His eyes lighting up at the airplane photos. Nodding when I shared memories of family trips to Monterey. He asked for pictures of the East Side Mosquito Abatement, couldn't remember his career but had some memory of Mape's Ranch and the cow he hit when he landed. I promised to look for pictures and bring them the next time....

Or when his roommate Carl (not his real name but the name Daddy gave him) joined us and I told stories. Daddy's stories.

Putting his napkin under his chin, seasoning his food. Sitting next to him while he tried to get me to eat. I ate a few beans.

"You don't want to eat their food do you?"  pointing at the plate pushed away. Chopped up BBQ pork eaten and some cornbread. He liked cornbread. He loved food, rarely decline it and shared it.

"I'm sorry I'm this way."  my response. Pause. Wanting to say more....

My usual good-bye......kissing the hat on top of his head.

"I call you later next week, send you note........"

Nor will I forget what Phillip told me walking to the car.

"He reached out for my hand to shake it, he had not done that in a long time. He firmly shook my hand saying good-bye. "I knew something was going on." 

But there is one thing I will not forget that my son told me a few days after Daddy had died and someone reminded me again this week.

"You were given a gift. You were the last family member to see him." 

Me...Lynette Joy, the last child to be born, the baby of the family was the last one to see him alive. Kiss his hat, hold his hand, share a meal, season his food, look at photos.....to hear his voice.

To hear him say at one point, "I'm sorry I'm like this..." What did he mean? Health? Sorry for something else? Sorry he was leaving....

I saw life....

I saw death...

all in one day.

It's a phenomenal and overwhelming feeling.

I believe now in my heart he was in fact dying while I was there.  Many will disagree with me, I have no proof and I don't care. Because here is the thing. We are taught as followers of Christ to have faith and believe. To believe in the unseen. To believe in miracles. I prayed he would not suffer in death. He did not. I prayed he would not became a complete invalid. He did not. I prayed I would be with him at the end. I was there with him just a few hours before.

I saw life and I saw death...

No, I won't forget that I, the youngest child was given the gift of seeing him just hours before he left this world.

LynetteJoy

~Why I Write~

I write so I don't forget.

To go back and remember the smile I had on my face the entire conversation of a train ride he was on. To remember the warmth of the sun while sitting in my car (my carpets were being cleaned) talking to my Dad. A long detail report on planting (or spraying) followed by an airplane I spotted ascending nose pointed straight up into the sky.

I write so I don't forget how I felt when he did not my name or voice. I researched and wrote. To understand dementia, to adapt to the changes. To remember his words and understand what he was or was not trying to say. To really listen to the language of dementia. My one regret is not talking more to the CNA's and others who saw him every single day. I met two ladies at his service and they told me story after story. I hope to connect with them to write these stories down.

I going through my journals, Facebook and this blog to compile everything I wrote the past couple of years. To that I will add his own stories.

Often you really don't fully appreciate or understand someone until they are gone. Until you learn more about them and their life stories.

After hearing the stories from the two ladies who cared for my Dad I discovered that we all view life through different lenses. We also view one another through our own lenses. That's why we need the perspective of another person(s).

God didn't set us out to be in our own bubble. He made one earth for us to share. To live, laugh, love. To respect beliefs and life styles. We are community people and people in community are open to the perspective of others. If we are willing to set aside our agendas, ideas, and fears.

The apostles of Jesus wrote about his life. One man, many perspectives from friends, family and communities he walked.
Makes you think doesn't it? That God from them to us allows us to to think and learn in community. If we are open to other perspectives from our own life experiences. And if we are willing to listen to others perspectives from their life experiences.

I need other's perspective. Co-workers, family, friends, children and counselor. I need the perspective I glean from books and nature.

I write so I don't forget but to gain perspective.


LynetteJoy

The pattern of grief has been different for each person I have lost in my life. I half expected this grief would be similar to that I experienced with my Mom. I also hope that it would be different, less intense. I also hoped that because I started grieving the day he went to live at River Valley Care Center that the final part of grief, acceptance, would be when Daddy died. I don't know yet if that is true. But I am aware of this, the grief thus far is different this time around.

This past week my siblings and I have been making decisions on the Titling of the house.  Plenty of tension, emotions & assumptions with this process. Not going to go into the nitty gritty of that. As soon as documents are drawn up we will sign the papers. Leave the rest up to God. Since I am a busy body, it's hard for me to not let God deal with stuff. I personally think He gets rather amused with me. And since there is nothing in our control...what I am doing, I am doing another big cleaning around my house. Not the bleach, sponge and scrubbing kind. But the getting rid of stuff. A corner of the garage is getting pretty full.

Any hoot.....where was I?

My grief this past week has been considerably less. Almost non-existent. I thought I would be coming home and thinking, "I call Daddy today." I have not. I thought I would still be having tears, deep sadness/depression or spacey. I was pretty spacey last week.

But I am not. I am doing pretty good. So course I begin to worry, did the business of the house interfere with my grieving? Am I suppressing some emotions (questions to ask my counselor). Grief stages can get interrupted. But you know what, it's okay to be temporary in denial ( I went in to denial the first night so I could get some sleep). It's okay to be briefly interrupted with some piece of your loved ones business things to be dealt with or work. As long as you don't stay there.

Maybe grief takes breaks.

Right now at this moment (and I am writing this in the morning before work), I am okay. I accept that he has died. I accept the reality of some business of his Trust was not discussed among all of us. I know I will not hear his voice but I can still hear his voice. I know I will not see him next week or month. But I have many pictures and many memories. I will never hear or seen him at the organ. But I have his music on tape. My brother and I went down memory lane the other night. Will there be times I miss him. Of course, Holidays, listening to music and times when it will catch you off guard. But he was 89, in poor health and as he would say, "Something is wrong with my head."

He lived life with his feet on the pedals of the organ, his wings in the air and with his faith close to his heart. 

Those are memories close to my heart. But the intensity of the grief I had when my Mom died is not present. I also think some of the feelings I had back then I suppressed. This past year or so has brought up this loss and other crap. Side note: a former job I had went through some crap and I can remember all the feelings I had and we were not given the space to grieve.

We must be given the space to grieve whatever the loss.  This goes for me and my siblings. Each of us are grieving our Dad's loss differently and I need to respect that just as I want them to respect my grief. It's also vital to talk. To listen. To be patient. Even when you are dealing with business stuff. For the first time in our lives my siblings and I are dealing with something together without any parents. It's a new and different part of the road.

At this point I have no idea where this post is going....except for today all is good. I am not missing my Dad and that is okay. If next week I miss him then that is okay too. If I bounce around in various stages of grief, that is okay too. And if this grief is different than other losses that is okay too. Going down memory lane is fun, sad, and healing. Looking toward the future and how we (my siblings) adapt to life without parents is also okay. Many of my "why's will never be answered, but moving onto, what's next...how will we live differently without parents? How and what will our relationship look like...the three of kids. 

Good things come through loss.

The future looks bright, promising, interesting.

LynetteJoy

~Keep Singing~

We sang Amazing Grace at our Mother's graveside 26 years ago.  It seemed only fitting to sing it at the graveside of our Dad who would be buried with his wife, our Mother.  We had picked out two songs to sing on this day. This one and How Great Thou Art. But the Pastor made the decision not to sing them, something about not having the music or some technical thing. I leaned over to my sister and said, "we can still sing Amazing Grace." So I interrupted the Pastor and said we still wanted to sing Amazing Grace. He said sure as long as I could lead off. Hahaha...not me, I do not carry a tune. And we did. My sister led us off and we all join in. I can still hear her and my BFF singing out. I sang and my voice broke.

A melody of tears, words and notes carried by the wind to Daddy, Mama and all the Saints of heaven.

I'm glad I spoke up.....I could have kept right on singing. Song after song just like we did when I was a little girl attending evening services at Community Assembly of God Church in Modesto.

I may not be able to carry a blasted note but I will keep singing and dancing.

LynetteJoy

~The Feeling of Freedom~

I thought I would feel like a orphan after my Dad died but I do not. The word that keeps going through my head is, "freedom."  That may sound rather callous. But think about it, he is free from Parkinson's, dementia, and Congested Heart Failure. No more pain or confusion. He is no longer confined to a wheelchair. He is no longer lost or looking for his wife. No more looking to go "home." He is free. He loved to fly planes, what freedom there must have been when he took to the skies.

He is no longer waiting for his Dad to pick him up. His Dad, William Hull Porter died in 1955 when my Dad was only 24 years old. So very young. Daddy had been waiting to see his Dad for 65 years. My Dad died on February 15 and his Dad on February 18. Both were buried on February 21.  Grandpa Porter service at 1:30 pm. Our service was to start at 1:00 pm but was delayed because of an accident on the highway. It started a few minutes after 1 pm with the Military Honors at around 1:10 pm. Coincidence? I think not.

I also feel free. I was not his Care Giver, he lived at him with my brother who was his Care Giver until October of 2018. But I worried and fretted about him. How bad is this going to get? Will he know me, be an invalid fed soup by someone else? Will he stop talking?  I worried about what to say or write. Constantly learning and adapting to the changes from a distance. Calling weekly and visiting. Asking questions, trying to understand what he was going through. Trying to do my best and take care of myself. Fretting about when to go visit and the emotional toll it took on me. We had many good visits and many wonderful phone calls.

I knew he was going to die. The waiting and wondering. How and when the end would come was always present. Would I know when he was dying? Would I be with him? I wanted to. We prayed for a peaceful end. Where will I be when the call comes? Thankfully I was at home. I was not with him at the moment of death but I saw him hours before. He died peacefully.

I've learned a lot the past few months.  Now it's time to take the experience, reflect upon it and learn from it. There is a quote that was shared at our last Preschool Professional Development meeting.

"We do not learn from experience, we learn from reflecting on experience."
John Dewey

Reflecting is not a problem for me, my issue is beating myself up over something. That is not freedom. I also spend too much time asking, "why?" That is not freedom. Worry is not freedom. Anxiety, depression and OCD thoughts are not freedom. But with counseling and being more open about my struggles I am learning my triggers, tracking thoughts and relearning coping skills. Will I ever be 100% free from anxiety, OCD thoughts? Probably not.

I realize that after I have exhausted the "why's", the next step is the how? How to live this new life without any parents? With my siblings? My husband and son (who is almost 21)? I am reflecting on this. Moving toward the how's is freedom. Is it too soon for this?

I survived the shock of his death. The profound sadness is gone, not there will not be moments but the really heavy profound sadness has lifted. I have been weaving in and out of anger & bargaining. Bargaining like all stages of grief encompasses the actual loss and everything that goes with a loss. Time will tell what parts of grief I will bounce around in. Loss brings up past losses and shakes things up. Moving toward acceptance and healing. That is freedom.

But yeah, I have this feeling of freedom. I am free. Now again, I am not being callous, it's just this feeling I have and I am going to accept and explore it.

LynetteJoy

We arrived at the cemetery early. The van that held my Dad's body, was parked near the site where he was to be laid to rest. 

"For you are dust, And to dust you shall return.” 

The grave site prepared, canopy and chairs set up under the big blue sky. After we laid out some of Daddy's belongings that represented him; his Bible, an airplane, his picture, a shirt we kids gave him at Christmas and his Thunderbird hat he wore every single day. This hat when given to him at River Valley Care Center and placed on his head, he would ask, 

"How do I look?"

In silence we stood at the site and watched the casket draped in the Stars and Stripes brought over and laid above the ground where our Mother, his wife was laid to rest in June of 1994. The flag of the USA and Air Force gently blowing. Brandon, one of two Funeral directors attended to the flag, straighten it out. 

I found that particular moment rather moving. We had not planned on watching the casket arrive and be placed upon the site. It just happened. There were several things that just "happened" as if it was being orchestrated by someone other than us. 

I reflected on the moment as my sister and I walked along the lane over to the office.  I felt as if we were receiving him. He was there when we were born (probably out flying), when we came into this life. And we were there to receive him in death. His three children standing together to welcome him home. Into everlasting life. 

Come and Dine

1. Jesus has a table spread
   Where the saints of God are fed,
   He invites His chosen people, “Come and dine”;
   With His manna He doth feed
   And supplies our every need:
   Oh, ’tis sweet to sup with Jesus all the time!
   • Refrain:
     “Come and dine,” the Master calleth, “Come and dine”;
     You may feast at Jesus’ table all the time;
     He Who fed the multitude, turned the water into wine,
     To the hungry calleth now, “Come and dine.”
2. The disciples came to land,
   Thus obeying Christ’s command,
   For the Master called unto them, “Come and dine”;
   There they found their heart’s desire,
   Bread and fish upon the fire;
   Thus He satisfies the hungry every time.
3. Soon the Lamb will take His bride
   To be ever at His side,
   All the host of heaven will assembled be;
   Oh, ’twill be a glorious sight,
   All the saints in spotless white;
   And with Jesus they will feast eternally.

LynetteJoy

~Shock Waves~

You know your loved one will die. You can talk about it with your siblings, review the funerals that have been made. You can know they have Parkinson's with dementia and CHF. You can know their last stop on this earth is a Care Center. You can grieve all the little losses that are leading the to the one big loss.  You wonder when the call will come and how the end will be for your loved one. Will we know when he is getting close to death? Will he know? Will there be signs is it close? Will I know when it is close? Will I be there when he dies? You can research and learn about death. But nothing prepares you for these words,

"Your Dad just passed away." said bluntly, directly and to the point.

The call came at 7:10 pm on that Saturday evening.

My father-in-law put it this way, "you know they are going to die, it's the shock of one moment they are there and the next they are gone."

Gone. Just. Like. That.

The brain cannot absorb this kind of shock. It's a wave of shock, wave after wave as I tried to absorb the news all that evening.

We are 11 days after his death. I can still see him at River Valley Care Center in the dining room or hallway in his wheelchair. Even though I saw his empty room, did a viewing and more or less witness the casket being lowered into the ground. I sat in the second row, watching and looking away, husband checking on how I was doing.

I can still see him at home (even though he has been living away from his home for 16 months), sitting in his chair all dressed up when we arrived. See him at his desk, at the organ and in the kitchen. I see him standing at the coffee station making coffee. I can see him in my house even though his last visit was Thanksgiving 2017.

I have not adjusted to the fact he is gone. I will not hear his voice on the phone. Send him a note. Visit him at the Care Center. I called more than I visited. He liked talking on the phone. Talk about his care and yes, even death with my siblings and family.

There is a lot of emotions and feelings to go through before acceptance. It's like a big ball of twine. It is untidy, messy, bumpy, uncomfortable and there is no timetable. There is no rhyme or reason or order to the grief process. There is also a lot of junk that pops up that I am working through with counseling. Current loss complied with past losses that were not fully grieved.

My counselor said, "if you are a hot mess you are grieving, if a OCD thought starts you are suppressing an emotion."

Good tip.

I am reminded of this, "bumps are part of the road, they are not roadblocks."

This is my path. Bumps, lumps, humps and all.

LynetteJoy

~He is Here~

I came home Friday evening after the funeral, my son drove me home.  He pointed out the sunset off in the west, rolled down the window so I could take a photo.

Sinking into the earth.
To rise above the earth. 
Giving light to another part of the world. 

In the Episcopal Church during the Prayers of the People, this is said toward the end of the prayers.

Give to the departed eternal rest;
Let light perpetual shine upon them. 

We praise you for your saints who have entered into joy;
May we also come to share in your heavenly Kingdom,

During the petitions, Fr. Todd prayed;

"We pray for the soul of Robert, father of Lynette."

He will know no more darkness. He is free from Parkinson's, Dementia and a failing heart. No longer in a wheelchair. No longer lost and trapped.

The shell has been lowered into the earth.  
His soul has risen.
To bring light to another world.
Where light will perpetual shine. 

Prayers and words bring comfort. But the hurt is raw. When I woke up on Saturday I was foggy and dazed.  A profound sadness has taken over. Empty and sad. I cannot recall this intense of a feeling when my Mom died 26 years ago. I remember sadness, depression and anxiety.

This profound sadness feels new to me. Feels raw and heavy. I felt empty, the house feels empty.  It eased up as evening approached on Saturday, one week after he died. Woke to it again this morning. Mixed emotions and thoughts. The past week events swirling in and out of my mind. 

I barely made it through the Eucharist this morning. Clutching my Liturgical service bulletin and Kleenex I fought the tears yet they escaped. I could not say any of the words. Every word spoken, every note played on piano and organ penetrated my heart.

I walked down the aisle to receive communion, at the first strains of the organ my body shook and the tears came. Barbara came and hugged me,

"he is here" Pointing to the communion table, she said something to the effect, when the bread is raised above the Priest heads, it is being raise to the departed souls.

"He is here, he is here, in the rafters."

LynetteJoy

~I'm Signing Off~

My Dad died one week ago today. I'm still in disbelief. He signed off and left this world on Saturday, February 15 in the evening. Boarded the plane, taxied the runway and lifted off.

We had just seen him that afternoon. Spent about an hour and half with him looking at photos, sharing memories and visiting with his room mate who came in.  Sat with him during lunch, we left when he was eating his fruit cup. Said our usual good-bye. Kissed him on his hat, said "I love, I call next week and send a note."  My husband walked over to say good-bye. My Dad reached to shake his hand. A good firm handshake. Something he hadn't done in a long time. Later my husband said this good-bye felt different, something was going on. Went to lunch at McDonald's, and headed back home. We live an hour away.  I come home in good cheer, I was not emotionally drained.  It was a great visit!

Around 7 pm my brother called, my husband answered the phone.

"Phillip, I'll keep this short. I'm on my way to River Valley. Dad just passed away. He was having some pain, they gave him Tylenol. He didn't eat dinner. He was having trouble breathing. They gave him oxygen. No pulse was found."

I lost it. I was a blubbering idiot. I just saw him. It couldn't be true.
I couldn't absorb the shock of the news. I was in shock. I talked briefly to my brother. My husband shot into action. Called his boss, told me to call my boss. I paced. Grabbed husband wine, shot down a couple of swigs. Finally sat down.

"Call your boss, he said.

"I just want to sit here with my grief." It really was shock. I did not believe the news. I was waiting for my brother to call from the Care Center. I wanted confirmation that he in fact had died.

He finally called and it was true. Daddy had died.

After several calls and texting my niece we got in touch with my sister. When she heard her husband phone ringing, she knew what it was.

I called my BFF. Left a message for my boss. Rambled on about what happened.  Made coffee and waited up for our son to come from work. I was on the phone, come running out to tell him when he walked in the door. My husband told him before I got out to the living room. I wanted to tell him. He immediately hugged me.
We told him everything.

I finally went to bed. Sleep alluded me to for a long time. I started posting pictures on our Porter Family and Friend page on Facebook. I did not announce anything until Sunday night.  Finally slept a few hours.

LynetteJoy

~A Hope of Many Hopes~

I had hoped he could live at home until his final breath. We all had hoped. In the comfort of his own living room and bedroom. With his own recliner, T.V. and music. The kitchen close by to eat meals at. But that was not to be. After a long period of living at home with my brother as his caregiver he was moved into a Care Home just before Christmas of 2018.  I still had hope (honestly I think it was denial) but the decision was to live elsewhere. Daddy was at high risk for falling, needed more and more care.

As his mind slipped away I moved shifted my focus and hoped for something else. Weekly I prayed, "please don't let him sink into full dementia and be completely bedridden." I prayed he would always know us and would not succumb to the full depth of dementia. But his mind slips further and further away. Unable to respond to questions or communicate needs. Did not know me on the phone or our relationship to one another. I don't think he knows he is a Father with three kids. I don't any know if remembers Mama or LaVola, his 2nd wife. 

I cannot imagine how confusing the world is to him. How frustrating to lose words, memories & simple tasks. Chunks of memories and vocabulary dropping off the radar. 

Now I hope he will not need a feeding tube or be fed. Or lose his ability to speak. Or need a more specialized wheelchair. The kind that reclines. Or be so far gone all he does is sleep.

But yet we see glimpses of our Dad....his eyes still light up at the mention of pilots and airplanes. Offering food to family. A story, comment or information to share. When he smiles for the camera. When you call him by his name.

So we take the glimpses and tuck them away. Into our hearts, mind and on paper. To remember them, collect them and add them to our own legacy collection.

LynetteJoy

~Who Are You?~

I knew it was coming but it does not make it any easier. I called my Dad at the Care Home. He did not recognize my voice or name today. Asked when we met. I introduced myself, "this is Lynette, your youngest daughter. You are my Dad." Nothing. But he was happy to talk to this person calling on the phone. Told me about the project and then about Bingo. The project was done and the furniture moved back in (it's the same repetitive conversation we have).  My voice broke on the phone while he talked about the project. He talked about Bingo. We said our usual good-byes & I love you, he repeated my words. I stumbled over my words, wondering if he understands what I was trying to say. "Good-bye, we'll talk again, see each other again. You can go when you are ready, hang up when you are ready." 

Maybe the next call he will have a lucid moment and know who I am.  Maybe the next visit, seeing me in person. I can hope for that and if it happens be grateful. But also know it may not happen. But also be grateful he still wants to talk even though I was a stranger on the phone.

LynetteJoy


My brother & I with Santa at River Valley Care Center

~He is a Jolly Fellow~(Christmas visit to my Dad)

I saw him sitting in his spot at the dining table. I stood next to him but he saw husband first across from where he was sitting. He looked up surprised more like startled and said, "Praise the Lord" and stared not even realizing I was next to him. I don't know if he knew who it was and I don't think I reintroduce husband to him. Did he think it was someone else? Someone from his past or another person? We'll never know. He turned and saw me. Was there any recognition of who I was? I usually say, it's me Lynette. I don't know if I did, I pretty sure I forget to say anything but hello and give him a hug and kiss on his bald head after removing his hat.
The dining room was being cleaned up, residents had come and gone after there Christmas meal. Only Daddy and another resident sat their table that overlooks the parking lot and orchard. He had pumpkin pie in front of him with a fork sticking out of it and a spoon in his hand. Another resident sat next to him. I put the gift on the table, this was confusing for him. We had interrupted the flow of eating, he didn't know what to do. Eat the pie or not. Open the gift or eat. I explained who the gift was from. But he could not respond and figure out what to do. After awhile I took his hand with spoon and placed it in the pie. This prompted him to take a bite. His brain gets stuck. He ate half the pie but it took a long time to figure out he was full. After prompting, he said he was full. I moved the plate out of the way and gave him the gift.

With helped he pulled the tissue paper out. He spotted the biplane on the shirt as he held the socks (with biplanes) in his hand. He said he needed socks. We finally got the shirt out. He liked it. The shirt was held up for all to see. It was at this time the other resident family came and introduced himself. He was also a crop duster. Daddy's eyes brightened up. Introductions were made. It was a sweet moment.

Eventually we all went to the lobby and sat. That is about all we can do. Just sit and be together.  People coming and going stopped to say hello to Bob (my dad). The lady in the pink sweater said, "he is a jolly fellow." Smiles at all the ladies, a flirt he is. "He flirts with all the ladies, Terry said (a staffer).

My brother put it best, "he is physically there but mentally gone."
Later at home we talked about this and wonder out loud how long will this go on. Our Dad needs verbal cues and prompts. Shown what to do. Cannot make simple decisions, carry a conversation, great difficulty responding to simple questions.

I have images of yesterday imprinted on my heart as well as  things he said.
"There are people getting off the plane."
"The hospital is cleaned out."
"What are we doing?" (that's when I said, "we are being together on Christmas", I didn't know what to say).
"I can wait." (wait to go to the bathroom). We were getting ready to leave. It seemed like a good time because he needed to be taken to the bathroom and then for a nap. He had no nap that morning and is often incontinent. But I am left wondering, was he saying to us not to go? Today I wish I had stayed longer. At least until after he went to the bathroom and got settle into bed.

Taking him over to the nurse station, kneeling down to say good-byes. Kissed his bald head and thinking this might be the last good-bye. I might never seen him again. It's startling to think how someone can be here today and might not be here the next time. It's always like that. Phone calls or visits. Will I see him again? Is this the last good-bye? The last phone call?

I walked to the door and turned to blow him a kiss.

LynetteJoy

~Christmas Eve~

I called my Dad this morning to wish him a Merry Christmas and to tell him I would see him tomorrow.  He has trouble with the cordless phone, I hung up and called back. The nurse said he was tired and had been sleeping. She brought him to her phone at the reception desk and put him on. He was quiet. No response to anything I said. Or no "Hi Lynette." No I love you at the end of the call. But he did finally say that the place was done and they were all moved in. This is a typical thing he says on many of my phone calls. He gave the phone to the nurse when my voice faded out (he says that on most phone calls too) and she came on the line, the nurse relayed my message, "she says she loves you and will see you tomorrow."

I barely made it through this difficult phone call. Once I hung up I let the tears come and slide down my cheeks. And my heart aches for the loss of the person we called Daddy.  Once a husband, Father, caregiver to two wives. Now being cared for by the good folks at the Care Center. A lifetime of memories that cannot be accessed. Stolen from him by dementia. 

Later I went to Christmas Eve Eucharist at Trinity Episcopal church. The old church beautifully draped in greens. Roses intertwined with the altar candles. There is nothing quite like an Episcopal Eucharist Christmas Eve service in a 150 year old church. Sermon was spot on, spoke personally to me. Music included all the traditional hymns and a guest cellist. Perfectly beautiful.

For our dinner I made French Dip sandwiches using a pork roast that I cooked in my crock pot. I also put together a dessert for Christmas Day that I will take to my brothers, a Marion Berry Fruit Crisp. Yum!

Merry Christmas!
LynetteJoy

~Chicken and Spinach Soup~

I created this soup using ingredients I had on hand. I wanted a hearty chicken soup but without pasta or rice. I like celery in soup but did not have any so I used chopped green pepper. This is what I came up with.

Chicken and Spinach Soup

Boil 1-2 chicken breast in well seasoned water until cooked through. The seasoning I used: onions, garlic, thyme, salt and pepper. Pull chicken out (save broth), when cooled pull chicken off the bone and place back in broth. Add chopped carrots and pepper. When these are nearly cooked add the spinach. 

Great served with sour cream, Greek yogurt or Romano cheese. 

Enjoy!

LynetteJoy

~Zucchini Crips~

Aren't these cute? They were fantastic and I am not a fan of Zucchini. The key was not to overcook the Zucchini. At the last minute I added lemon juice (to the vegetables) and lemon zest to the crumb topping. I used the Romano cheese because I had it on hand but Parmesan can be used or any really good hard cheese. Photo is before I baked them for 15 minutes at 400 degrees. I served them with fried eggs.  I place my egg on top of the dish. Husband had his on the side. 

Zucchini Crisps
2 servings 

1/2 Zucchini chopped

Grape Tomatoes, cut in half 

Italian Seasoning 

Salt and Pepper

Lemon Juice and Zest

Bread Crumbs

Romano Cheese

Oiled the ramekins and placed zucchini and tomatoes in each one. Sprinkled each one with salt, pepper and seasonings. Squeeze lemon juice over mixture. 

In separate bowl mix bread crumbs, Italian Seasoning, Romano cheese, salt, pepper, and lemon zest. 

Top vegetables with bread crumb mixture.

Bake at 400 degrees for about 15 minutes. 

Enjoy!

LynetteJoy

~On Holiday Break~

I'm on a two week holiday break. The Preschool closes down the day after our Cookies and Carol program until after the New Year. We go back to work on the 6th of January. I find these long breaks are both good and not so good. Good in the respect my work anxiety subsides.  Not so good because I'm out of a routine. I feel kinda lost and I get way to lazy.  Brain becomes to idle.  To combat this I am keeping a similar schedule. Obviously there are differences because I am not at work teaching. I have a loose morning work routine at home that begins after dressing for the day. It includes the following. Kitchen clean up after breakfast, morning stretches, other household chores (or errands or just puttering around house), a walk (weather permitting), reading and finishing laundry.

This first week of is Christmas week.  Plans are made. My family works on Christmas Eve day.  For our dinner I'm making Pork French Dip sandwiches. On Christmas day I'm making fruit crisps to take to my brothers. I have Marion Berries and peaches in the freezer.  Speaking of food I have been shopping at Grocery Outlet for the past couple of years. Recently they have had a change of ownership and improvements have been in progress.  Since I am not working and my next check will be small I was worried about buying a the few groceries I needed for the holiday. But Grocery Outlet takes the stress of shopping. We are ready for Christmas. All gifts are wrapped, stockings are filled, and house is festive.

Merry Christmas!
LynetteJoy

~December Visit~

I saw him sitting alone at his shared dining table. He sat in his wheelchair facing the window. When he lived at home he always sat at the end of the table facing the window.  I greeted him, he looked up surprised addressing me by my sister name. They were making cookies for the residents who were waiting for Santa Claus to arrive. My brother took him to the bathroom, Santa and his Elf arrived with ho, ho, ho's and greetings all around. A reading of Twas the Night Before Christmas and pictures with Santa. Daddy missed the story, so after our family pictures with Santa I read him the story (much better than Santa and his Elf). He liked the pictures. I sat with him as he ate his lunch, chopped turkey, spinach, yams, roll and vanilla cake. His drinks are thickened, his foods soft. He coughs and chokes often on food, but not this meal.

He was quiet, limited communication. Toward the end of my visit my brother noted he look sad and lost.

I told him I would be back on Christmas Day, "in 10 days." I said.

"Christmas?" he said.  He looked surprised. I don't think he knew Christmas was coming despite the floor to ceiling Christmas tree and Santa's visit.

It's important for me to see him on Christmas this year.

LynetteJoy