The Boys are Growing!

I'm having some moments today and did yesterday as well.  Last night was our oldest son, Joseph's first flag football game of the season.  He's played with Victory Sports in one sport or another since he was in Kindergarten.  Joseph is now in 6th grade.  This is his 6th season with Victory (spring and fall) flag football.

Here is a link to Victory Sports Outreach League.  It's a Christian league founded and run by the Pendarvis family in our church, who are Missionaries with the North American Missions Board.  Their ministry is to share the Gospel of Christ through sports.  You want to know people with big hearts?  It is them!  (Their Family Blog, with their inspiring story.)

I took this photo last night on the side lines of the game and Joseph just looked different to me all of a sudden.  Never mind that fact that last Sunday he tried on several different pair of long pants for church and could not wear a single pair!!  My child is growing!  He's almost 12.  

He's only one year away from being a teen ager.  Where did the time go?  It is flying by.

Playing with his favorite play doh at age three and a half

Then, I look to my right and I see his little brother, Philip watching the game.  He smiles at me and wants me to take his picture.  He looks different too.  It's been three months since we've been on these fields for football.  PJ is growing too.  He's 8.  

I remember when my mom used to hold him as a baby.

Then I can't help but have this thought in my mind.  I'm seeing them grow before my eyes.  I blink and they are bigger, I declare! 
Bear with me.... this grief is still so fresh in my heart.  It's a process and we are approaching 3 months without one of our favorite people in our lives.  Thanks for walking with me as I write!

What would Mom say?  She would be so proud of them.  Her boys! 
This is one of my favorite pictures of them together in February of 2012.

Mom would say something about how big they are getting.  If I can see the growth and I see them everyday, I know she would have noticed even more because she would have seen them once a week.  She always commented on how tall they were getting.

I miss seeing her every week.

They miss seeing her every week.

She would be enamored with them.  She would dote on them as she always did.  "Come, here! Give me a hug!"  Arms open wide.... "You are getting so tall!"  I can hear her voice now.  Yes, just when I feel like I'm having a good day, here is this void I'm feeling today.  The void of not sharing  my sons' growth with my mother anymore.  Yet I'm so thankful, I don't get to miss a moment with them.  Little boys are such a blessing.  One little boy would not want me calling him "little" anymore!!  He's still my baby though!

I so wish Mom could see them now.  I say that with a smile on my face, but a little tear in my eye as well.  

And I've got to take my son pants shopping!!  Being sentimental does not put pants that fit on Joseph.  Ha ha ha!  

Sure do love my sons.  Can't wait for next week's Friday night flag football game!

History Home School Days in Jamestown, VA

The week after Labor Day we took school on the road and spent a week touring Historical sights in Virginia related to the Revolutionary War time period.  It was a wonderful week, full of hands on learning, living history and adventure.  It's nice with home schooling to have the flexibility of going and doing when it is convenient for us as a family.  Mike cannot take time off during the summer months due to the nature of his job.  So, September has become our favorite month for taking our time together as a family for vacation and learning.  

Day 1:
Jamestown Settlement- Jamestown, Virginia 
Enjoy these photos on the link above which I posted on Facebook.  Beautiful weather was with us all week.

A Good Day For Saying Farewell

Sometimes something you never thought was ever possible again becomes possible because your father is having a good day with his illness.  Today was a good day for Dad.  He had not been on the roof for a very long time.  It was the first day of fall and beautiful in the Carolinas.  We'd just had some ice cream at Ben and Jerry's two blocks away.  The weather was perfect for a ride up the elevator to see the city skyline.

Mom and Dad's place is selling next week.  It's been a long 18 month road to closing for us.  A chapter is ending.  We are all ready to move on.  Mom and Dad moved on over two years ago.  It's just taken a long time for the "Tree House" to sell.  Mom always called their condo the "Tree House" with affection, due to the enormous 100+ year old Willow Oak in the front of the condominium building. 

They loved their home.  They never would have moved from it if it hadn't been for Mom's medical situation and her needing the extra care in her daily life of having Type 1 diabetes.  Moving to the retirement community gave us two and a half extra happy, healthy years with Mom because she was able to receive the consistent medical support she truly needed.

One of Dad's favorite places at the Tree House was the roof of the building.  He'd go up there and just sit on the beautiful decking in a lounge chair, 14 stories high above the tree tops.  He always loved to sit in the sun and relax.  He LOVED the roof.  

I had the thought the other day about why he might like places where all he could see above him was just sky.  Perhaps it was because it made him think of being on the fleet oiler in the Pacific when he was in the US Navy in the 1950's with no obstructions of the sky for as far as he could see.  There is something to be said about being high up in the air with only the clouds above you.  

A photo sent to his bride to be (Mom) in 1951

Every time Mom and Dad had guests in their home, Dad would insist on taking them to the roof.  
"Before you leave, you have to let me show you the view from the roof!" he'd say.  
Anyone that saw the roof was glad they did!  I have found myself doing the same thing the past year and a half.  I have taken people up there as well because there is nothing like it and I've told them the story of Dad.

I've seen fireworks....  

Sunsets....

This is my new favorite sunset picture up there just this week.  Tom is trying out his new panoramic option on his iPhone.  

I've been windblown by icy cold winds in February and calmed by warm summer breezes up there.  I have meditated, prayed, been thankful and reminisced sometimes all at the same time on this roof.  

There is no place like it.  It is unique and special.  It is also in the middle of our family's history.  Mom and Dad's church is right across the street from the Tree House.  Mom's final resting place is also right across the street at the columbarium of that very same church.

I love this area of the city.  I love the huge trees and the feel of the neighborhood.  It is full of happy memories.  
We are saying goodbye this week.  I can still drive through this part of town and continue to enjoy it that way.  I could go to the church, take a walk, go to a restaurant or bring Dad to our favorite ice cream shoppe.  It is just not an area of town I live close to or frequent on a day to day basis.  So it was special that Dad was having a good enough day to go up on the roof one more time.  

He did not remember ever being up there before nor the joy that it used to bring him.  However, he really enjoyed the view today, like he'd seen it for the first time.  It took Tom and I both to accompany him safely due to some steps going out onto the decking.  He did a great job though and with both of us there, he felt safe.  

I'm sure I will head to the roof a couple more times to say goodbye this week and relish in fond family memories..... 
.....and one of Mom and Dad's friends and neighbors has already told me if I ever want to come back to the roof, all I have to do is call her and we are welcome.  It's nice to have good friends.

"That's My Daughter!"

Walking the valley of Alzheimer's Disease closely with a parent reaffirms how much those words mean, especially today after seeing Dad and hearing him say this.  I'm thankful for my brother  who truly understands this "need" and "longing" for Dad to still affirm us as his kids.  

Yes, we are all grown up.  

Yes, I've taken that word "daughter" for granted in the past.  These past few years I don't.  Alzheimer's won't let me.  So many times I feel like I'm in the background in his life, doing all of these things he has no idea about for his benefit, well being and quality of life.  He has no idea what we do for him behind the scenes.  He doesn't remember our times together after the fact too well at all.  That is ok.  Those thoughts of needing to be recognized for what I do, don't come to my mind.  He is the one who is Dad.  He is the one that needs our love the most because he is the one battling this disease.   He'd never in a million years want me to do all that I am doing.  He'd worry about me.  He'd say, "That's too much Darlin'."  So would Mom.  They were the parents always looking out for everyone else's well being, never wanting to intrude on anyone else's life.   They sacrificed and did wonderful things for me all my life.  

So what do I do when the reality of dementia hits hard?  Besides pray (a LOT) and shed a few tears (if I need to), and pour out my heart on this blog,  I listen to a phone message left to me by Dad about 3 years ago on our answering machine. He and Mom were still living independently.  I have it recorded on my phone so I can listen to it any time I want to.  It is a message where he thanks me for being his daughter.  It sounds like "Dad" before we truly started losing him.  It is a reminder that what I see today is the disease, not my dad in his true form.  Take away the beastly disease and there is my daddy, like I've known him all my life.  

That is a huge comfort to me to hear his voice of yesterday.

So I go back to...."That's my daughter!"
How special those words are to me this afternoon as he looked at his caregivers with a smile on his face and gleam in his eye.  
Those words are like food for my soul on this journey.

I am waiting for the day when I walk into his building and walk up to him and he won't know who in the world I am.  That day may be coming faster than we realize.  Not remembering loved ones is something heavy on my heart sometimes.  I have selfishly begged, quietly whispered, and humbly asked God to spare us these moments. 
Starting with Mom......  I prayed and prayed she would never have to go through the heartbreak of Daddy forgetting her after almost 60 years of marriage.  She would have completely understood, but it would have been painful.

God answered that prayer.  Daddy has forgotten after she has passed away, but never while she was living in his day to day life.  

Selfish me asks the Lord to spare me too.  "Please Lord, let me not experience this."  Oh he knows this heart so very well!  He knows that will be a heart crushing day for me.  I do not dwell on it. I take each day as it comes.  If it does happen I am not alone.  So many experience this loss with a loved one with dementia.  No, I do not want Daddy to forget I'm his daughter.  I do not want him to forget Tom is his son.   

I've already seen God's amazing miracles with my dad's dementia.  I've mentioned before, this disease is sparing him the grief of his bride.  The staff in Memory Care even recognizes it as a gift and blessing of God.  They all smile when we talk about it, even today 2 months after Mom's passing!  They all say the same thing about what an incredible blessing it is.  

Sometimes I ask the Lord again, "Is this what 'working  everything out for the good of those who love you?' looks like?"  I just pinch myself seeing the goodness of God as we move forward.  I should not doubt God's abilities to work in our lives or his goodness, or how BIG he his!  "You are blessing my dad, just because you can Lord."  This is just such a huge blessing!  Perhaps Alzheimer's has enough pain of its own.  "God, You are a loving God.  You care for your children even when a disease of the mind does not allow us to petition you in prayer.  You are caring so greatly for Dad right now."  

And then I wonder if the Lord is saving Mom for Dad in heaven.  She has brought him so much joy these past 61 years..... 

"No Joe, no sadness for you, with Ethel.  There will be only joy.  You'll have to wait for heaven for that." 

Sounds crazy, and God's ways are not my ways, but what if that was part of the plan?  No matter what, Daddy's disease and joy are bringing God glory!

"That's my daughter!"  
I'm still thinking of Mom.  I hear her say it when he says it.  She used to do the same thing with the staff in her building.  For both of my parents all of our lives, (not just in a nursing home), it is not just an introduction  for either my brother or I.  It's an endearing, happy proclamation with emphasis on "son" or "daughter".  It is a loving affirmation of us, adopted kids.....even over 40 years later.

I miss my daddy.  I miss who he used to be.  Yet, there are little pieces of him that God allows to remain for now.  The pieces are becoming smaller as we move along.  His joy is still vital to the well being of this heart of mine.  When I see that face light up at the sight of our family it just makes my day!  To see him so happy, makes my day!  I don't say this to puff ourselves up or to say, "Hey, look at us! We're something wonderful!"  I say it because Dad is wonderful to US.  He is loved.  He is cherished.  And when we feel loved and cherished back in the middle of this crazy, unpredictable, depressing disease, we are not just happy.  We are affirmed deeply.  

It is what I'm hanging on to at this point.

"That's my daughter!"  

He does not know my last name anymore.  
He does not remember his grandsons' names.
Sometimes he may not remember my name specifically to other people.  
But.... he knows ME.   He knows my brother, when he sees our faces.

To be his daughter..... there is so much wrapped up in that word.  I wish I could describe right now what it's meant to me for the past three years since I started investing so much of my life into my parents' lives for their health and well being.  One day I will have to take the time and write down what it means to be just that..... a daughter.  Not just any daughter.  Their daughter.

God has brought me to a place as "daughter" like no other place.  He's required more of me in this role than I ever dreamed He would.  And I wouldn't change a thing..... and I'll still cherish those words of Dad when he tells other people (who yes, know exactly who I am) that I am his daughter.  

I want him to "feel" loved and appreciated..... because he is.  
In the darkness of Alzheimer's Disease you especially need to feel loved when you are in those places that do not make sense.  When your world is turned upside down, and you truly have lost control of your life, it is essential to feel loved.  

I am just so grateful Dad is still with me.  If Mom cannot be, he still is.

God's grace through Dad's love carries me at times as we continue strolling along this long journey of this disease together.   Dad still wants to walk me to where I'm going, when we say "I'll see you soon."  Right now it is to the elevator in his building.  He's still the gentleman.  He wants to be wherever Tom and I are.  I think that is because our heart strings are attached and he knows that.  
"That's my son!"
"That's my daughter!"

Most importantly..... "That's my daddy!"