Sometimes Life Hurts

/

My family and I have been growing a lot in the past week and a half and it has not been comfortable, although there have been quite a few sweet and even sacred moments that have been very special to us. Four days ago my wonderful Father-In-Law Bill moved into a Memory Care Center. Our hearts are all broken, including his, that Alzheimer's has done this to him. His new home is blessedly only 4 minutes away from my house by car and Chris and I, I by myself, and the kids and I have been able to go visit him SO many times this week. It's been a huge comfort to him AND to us.

I don't know that I have the emotional energy to sum up or tell what this has been like for our family in detail but because it has been sacred and important I don't want to forget it. So many times I have called my mom in tears craving and needing her wisdom and comfort. She's really been there for me and I've needed her so much. What a blessing it is that God sent us to parents who have lived for generations longer than we have and have experienced things we haven't. In one of those phone calls I wailed and cried and asked my mom how she was able to get through seeing her beloved father deteriorate. She told me, "Faith. It's all of the things you already know. You put your faith into action and lean on that." So that's what I have been doing. And it's helped. What a sweet and heartbreaking time it's been for all of us.

Bill has been so confused. So despondent. So paranoid. So anxious. There have also been sweet times this week. This past Sunday, the night before the big move, we all met at Bill and Bev's house for a family dinner and for Chris, Brendan, and Seth to give Bill and Bev blessings. It was one of the most sacred moments of my life. As I knelt on the ground while the blessing was given my heart was so touched. Grief, comfort, and faith in God's plan all swelled in my heart and spilled out my eyes. I hugged my Father-In-Law who "doesn't do hugs" for the very first time and told him how much I loved him and that he was the best Father-In-Law that I could ever have hoped for. And there have been times this week when I have been there for him, when no one else was able to, to comfort and try to cheer him. We've cried together and I've looked into his eyes and assured him he was strong enough to face this trial.

One night in particular after Bev had spent the entire day with him and was utterly spent and needed to go home he needed some comfort. He'd gotten confused and thought that an alarm was going off in his room, his nurse call button, and thought it meant that he was dying. Somehow he found a phone that the nurses only use in case of emergency and he called 911. He told the dispatch he thought he was dying and they immediately sent out an officer to make sure he was OK. Of course he was OK, at least his body was. His mind was racing and he was in a full panic. They called me instead of Bev by accident and the kids and I were already in the car on our way over for a visit after dinner. What a blessing! When we got there his forehead was covered in sweat and he was pacing. I convinced him to follow me up to his room and the kids knew just what to do. Max and then Marilyn took a turn each snuggled up next to him on his bed with their arms wrapped tightly around his waist. They hugged him, told him they loved him, and told him about their day. I spent some time assuring Bill with my words and by the end of the evening he was much more relaxed, less confused, and we left feeling like he'd be able to go to sleep.

Yesterday I listened to a talk given by President Eyring," Trust in That Spirit Which Leadeth to Do Good", and I felt so supported and encouraged by his counsel. I have felt the truth of his words as I've spent time with Bill this week and have been so inspired by the service Bev has given for so long. Sometimes this week I've been a little nervous about how those visits with Bill would go but I have felt His help. I have faith in President Eyring's words, "you must commit to...serve, knowing that you do not go alone. When you go to comfort and serve anyone for the Savior, He prepares the way before you." What a blessing to not just be serving someone but to be serving someone so special to me. I have felt stronger than I would be on my own. President Eyring also promised in his talk that, "The second thing you must do is remember the Lord as you go in service for Him. The Lord not only goes before our faces and sends angels to serve with us, but He also feels the comfort we give others as if we had given it to Him." What a beautiful comfort that is. I've promised Bill that angels are near to help him and I believe that with my whole heart. What an incredible comfort it is to know that the Savior is helping me too and that He is carrying my Father-in-Law. The end of that quote, the part where the Savior himself feels the comfort I'm trying to give? That's humbling.

One of the sweetest parts of the blessing given to Bill on Sunday was that he would be able to, "look back on this trial and see the blessing that it had been in his life and in the life of his family." 

Already we are feeling the grief, feeling the loss, but also enjoying that he is still Bill, is still OURS, and we are learning and growing so much.

Still Alice, Still Bill

/

I started listening to the audio book version of Still Alice today and had to quit when the main character got diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. That's what my beloved father-in-law was diagnosed with 3 1/2 years ago. It's no fun but Bill, my FIL, IS. I love him so much.

This disease is affecting his body and brain but he is still the same person as ever - growing and learning through a trial like we all do. I love being around him and have ever since I met him 20 years ago. He's still the same man that I love. It's hard to watch as he feels the uncertainty, anxiety, depression and confusion that comes from not knowing how the pieces of what's going on around him fit together all of the time. None of that changes how I feel about him though or how much I enjoy being with him. He's special to me and no matter what happens to his body, he's still there.

I love the way he loves to reminisce and tell family stories. I love the way my husby inherited so many of his mannerisms. I love that I used to work with him and how I got to see him every day as a co-worker, and then when no one was looking he would smile at me like an under-cover father. I love his tender generosity. I love the example of how he loves his wife. I love his testimony of the Gospel. I love how fervently he loved his church mission to Germany and that I got to travel back there with him 2 years ago. I love the example he has always been to me, way before Alzheimer's, of how to tough out a hard situation and how to be OK that life isn't fair. I love his work ethic and his independence. I love watching him sidle up to my children and tell them how special he thinks they are, and then he forgets he just said it but the sentiment is still in his brain and heart and so he will say it again...and again...and again...It's the kind of thing you never get tired of hearing.

Bill inherited this yucky disease from his mother and Chris is so much like him. I worry that Chris will get it too and that doctors won't have a cure. I spiraled in a worry tornado as I listened to that book today. I found my calm center as I focused on what's most important: my faith. Faith is trusting that when those hard days come with Bill that God will give me strength. Faith is trusting that if Alzheimer's takes my cherished husband that Jesus will come to carry me and that I won't ever have to feel one feeling or go through one part of it alone. Faith is putting aside the fear to be happy for today. Today my father-in-law and husband are both here and I was lucky enough to smile at and see them both. Faith is knowing that I will someday miss my father-in-law, and maybe even husband, while I live on this earth and they don't, but that I believe with my whole heart I will be with them again - this time to never be separated and never to be sick.

Losing the Pillars of My Life

/

Yesterday I felt really sad for big chunks of the day and that bled into being scared which piled up on top of the sad feelings until I almost couldn’t feel them anymore.

My beloved Father-in-law, Bill, has Alzheimer’s and recently it has really progressed.

Three years ago when he was officially diagnosed we were told he had 5-10 years for him to live. I’m sure my mother-in-law, Bev, would say differently but for me the past few years have been relatively normal with Bill. There have been Sunday dinners, long, easy chats in their backyard, Easter egg hunts, laughter, movies in their basement, and even an awesome trip to Germany together. Sure, sometimes he forgets that we spent two weeks together in Germany but he remembers that he went and that he went with one of his daughters-in-law and he will ask if it was me. The thing is he has remembered.

The past few years have actually been awesome with him because I’ve watched him play with his grandchildren with an added, special adoration on his part and I’ve smiled so many, many times as he’s scooped them up for a hug and to tell them how “cool” he thinks they are. For a man who doesn’t show affection easily it is his way of showing and telling them that he really, really loves them. And he does. And I have seen it.

I know the love that he has for us will never go away.

But.

It’s terrible to watch this disease take over his body. Lately he is so confused and disoriented. He forgets how to put on his clothes. He wanders into the garage to take out the garbage and comes back thinking he’s in the middle of a project and talks about it without making any sense. He can’t be left alone. It’s getting serious.

For the past few years I’d look at the way Alzheimer’s had changed Bill and be able to laugh it off. It was kind of cute that he’d tell us the same story 4 times in a row. It was sweet that Chris had to follow him to the bathroom when we went out in public to make sure he remembered how to come back. I thought it was endearing that he’d only want to eat junk food and sneak it in from the car where he’d stashed it when he thought no one was looking.

I can’t laugh it off and tell myself, “It’s not so bad,” anymore.

He’s lost his independence and along with it so has Bev. What’s shortly ahead of us in heartache: him moving to a care center, forgetting who we are, taking my children to visit him and having to explain to them how sick he is, watching him forget how to speak at all, and then watching him die.

That’s horrible! And I am so sad.

Last night I was scared. I don’t like grief. Grief is the thing I hid from for years during my infertility and ran for my life from during all the times that we were waiting for an adoption to either fall through or go through. It was the thing that incapacitated me when our first adoption failed and it changed my life forever when our baby died. I’m afraid of grief.

Last night I thought I was afraid of watching Bill suffer and then actually die but I was wrong. I thought through how I would feel if I were dying and realized I’m not afraid of finding out if there is a God or an afterlife because I have complete faith that there is. So I’m not afraid of that happening to Bill either. If I wasn’t afraid of that then what was it?

I was afraid of how we were going to live without him. When my Grandpa died I felt as if a big pillar in my life crumbled away and I was left holding up the ceiling in his place. Is that what it will be like as I go through the rest of my life watching people I love and count on die? One by one the pillars will crumble until I am left holding the ceiling of my life all alone? What a terrible burden to have to lift. That scares me. And not only is there the added weight but the aching emptiness of missing them while I do it. Oh, why is this life so mortal?!

I pondered that last night. How will I go on without my father-in-law pillar? How did I go on when our baby Cannon died?

When Cannon died I was so sad that every moment it felt like I couldn’t breathe - for months. Every second felt like it stretched until it filled my brain and time was on the brink of ending. And the ragged, aching, searing pain filled my chest until it swelled in every cavity of my being and was almost unendurable except that there was no choice but to experience it and so I embraced it and it lasted and it lasted. So how? How did I manage?

There were moments in even the darkest days when I felt joy even if it was side by side with the tearing grief. Noah would sit on my lap and put his small arms around my neck and I would laugh while I cried, tears making my face wet and my eyes red and small. Just being around my sisters I could feel the joy sidle up alongside the sadness. So I looked for the joy when I could and held on to it and finally I was able to feel the joy more and more and the sadness less and less, although it will never completely go away.

Also, I practiced my faith. I tethered myself to it. I’d put Noah to bed and sit for hours by myself listening to talks from the Apostles while I played Solitaire until I was so tired that I could fall into bed and sleep. I printed out the talks that meant the most to me and highlighted the best parts and then hung them on my refrigerator. I repeated what I learned from them in my head when I needed it, which was every day. I gave copies to other people who were having hard times. I bore my testimony about the parts that had touched me at church. I held on.

So that’s what I’m going to do this time.

When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter who leaves you as long as you have yourself because only you can find the joy and give it to yourself. As long as I can keep finding a pretty sunset, or a beautiful color, or a smile on a child, or a book to love I will be OK. And I know I won’t ever be left to hold the ceiling of my life by myself. I will always have my Savior. He’s not going to do it for me but He will stand next to me, yoke himself to me, and help me lift. I can hold the whole world on top of my shoulders with his help.

As I crawled into bed last night that is what I was thinking of and I fell asleep knowing that whatever heartaches come, I’ll be able to stand it.

Learning About Gratitude

/

I've learned a lot about gratitude this past week.

This past Sunday we met with our Bishop to go over the financial donations we'd made to our Heavenly Father throughout the year. He pointed out to our kids that we had paid "Fast Offerings" to help people who didn't have enough money to pay for basic things that they needed and he asked our kids to thank us. As they did I thought about how this sacrifice also included them so I thanked them. I looked at Max, who was nearest to me, and asked him, "If we had kept that money what would we have spent it on?" "Extra things because we have all the things we need, " he astutely replied and a light bulb came on in both of our minds and hearts as the Holy Ghost taught our souls a principle. "Yep, extra things," I told him,  "like going out to eat and going to movies and things like that. Thanks for giving up some of those extra things so that people who need basic things can have them. We are so blessed that we have everything we need."

In that moment I felt so whole and grateful. My family has so many needs and all of them are provided for. 

Sometimes parents don't have all the right answers and I'm grateful to be able to reach out to experts in every facet of our community to help us fill in the gaps for our children. I'm grateful to doctors, teachers, cub scout leaders, primary teachers and leaders at church, therapists, Aunts, and Grandparents.

We have started seeing a Neuropsychologist with Noah to help us and him know how to manage his ADHD. This isn't just a normal therapist, it's one who specifically has knowledge about how ADHD affects the wiring of his brain and can help us with behavioral strategies that pertain just to that. How awesome to have such specialized help.

We've recently gotten some much prayed for answers about our Max's health. He has some doctors looking after him who have specialized in exactly what he needs. They are not only specialists but are the most qualified specialists in their field in the world. 

These answers to Max's health challenges have been a sweet confirmation that God is leading me in my life. As I look back I can see so many times when we were making an important decision and the choice felt right but we couldn't see exactly how or if that choice would solve the problem we were having. As I look back it is obvious that those choices were not only the right ones but that they were delivered to us by God. How grateful I am to have a living, loving Father and a Savior who know my family's needs and manifest their interest in our well being so clearly in our lives.

Noah gets his braces off today. I'm so grateful for our dentist and orthodontist and for the resources God has provided so that we can make use of their help. Before his braces Noah had a tooth that stuck way out. He felt self conscious about it and, because it wasn't in line with the rest of his teeth, it was in danger of being knocked out or being permanently damaged - especially because he is such an active boy. We made the decision to give him braces and at first the cost felt really huge but we managed and they are all paid for now. What a blessing!

All of my children have inventive, dedicated teachers who somehow, even with their classes full of other kids, manage to find the time and make the effort to cater to my children's individual needs. Marilyn has her Braille and O&M teachers plus my amazing twin sister who is her homeroom teacher and they are constantly mindful of her needs. Noah has a great teacher who finds creative ways to motivate him and works with him one-on-one at her desk every day. Max has a teacher who is always looking after him and watching for ways she can stimulate and challenge his busy mind. I'm so grateful for their efforts and I see the positive ways they influence my children every day.

My husband has always had a good job that he enjoys, that challenges him, and that provides for the needs and even some of the wants of our family.

I get to have my dream job.

We all have healthy bodies.

I've learned this year that my body is strong.

I have a house that feels like a home and it's full of memories of the people I love most.

I'm so grateful.