Mama Bear on Mother's Day

Yesterday.

Mom: Gwen, what does your family have planned for Mother's Day?

Gwen: Uh, I don't know.

Mom: What are they planning for the Sunday meal?

Gwen: Uh, I don't know.

Mom: Are they cooking something good?

Gwen: Uh, maybe.

Enter Karis.

Grandma: Karis, what are you cooking up for Mother's Day?

Karis: I dunno. [Much more astute than I.] What would you like?

Grandma: Pizza.

Karis: Grandma would like pizza for lunch tomorrow.

Gwen: Okay, we have gluten free crust mix. I can make some.

Mom/Grandma: I like Papa John's.

Gwen: But Meg can't eat that.

I don't know how many times we have had this conversation. Meg has big, bad, go-to-the-hospital-if-you-mess-up celiac disease. Not a whim, not a food choice, an incurable disease. She is very diligent and uncomplaining about taking her own food everywhere she goes. I would really like it if she did not have to be in that position in her own home. So when Mom asks what would be a good night to order pizza, I always suggest we pick a night when Meg will not be home. Yes, there are gluten free pizzas available frozen in our local grocery. No, they do not compare to Papa John's The Works! And there is just something mean about eating something delectable in front of someone who can't have it. But Mama wants pizza from Papa John's for Mother's Day, and so it will be.

After Mom's nap this morning, I asked if she would like a snack. She replied, "No, but I'm wondering what treat your family will prepare for Mother's Day." Oh. Oh dear. I reminded her that we were having pizza. She was surprised. I reminded her that she had requested pizza. She denied. I told her Karis was taking Meg to the grocery to get a gf pizza, then stopping by Papa John's to pick up our order.

Mom: So Meg will have something she can eat.

Gwen: Yes. It will look pretty sad next to our pizza, but she will have one.

Mom: I can't get too worked up over Meg's food.

Gwen: No, I don't expect you to.

Mom: She eats such good food. But she hasn't been making her avocado dip. [Mom loves Meg's homemade guaco.]

Gwen: No, we haven't been able to find good avocados.

Mom: [dismissively] Anyway, she eats so well, it almost makes a body wish they had the same thing wrong with them. I just don't feel for her at all.

Enter Mama Bear.

I really tried to temper my response by remembering I was dealing with a frail old woman. But even frail old women can respond with compassion to the frailty of another. My mom has always been a cold fish, but for her to disregard the lifelong struggle of one of my babies so flippantly just flew all over me. I reminded Mom that Meg has a disease that prevents her from ingesting another speck of wheat, barley or rye for the rest of her life. I agreed that Meg is very disciplined and creative in coming up with healthy, appealing foods to eat. And I emphasized that the fact that Meg is strong and uncomplaining does not mean she does not deserve compassion!

I didn't holler. I didn't stomp out. I wasn't rough. I continued to care for Mom as I spoke. I was firm. I limited my words to Meg's condition and our response. I just could not let it pass. Argh. This is hard.

To Pee or Not to Pee

Mom has been without a catheter since Monday. It is such a relief to her to be rid of that nasty old bag, not to mention experiencing pain-free, er "sting-"free, voiding. All systems seem to be working properly. The only hitch we've had so far is that Mom only seems to pee when she is lying down. Seriously. Never a wet diaper when sitting up, even if she is up for 4 hours at a stretch and drinking coffee and cranberry juice. Without fail, always a wet diaper after a nap, usually awakened by the urge to pee. This is fine of course, except it does mean regular overnight diaper changes, every 1-1/2 to 2-1/2 hours.

Mom hates ringing for me in the night, and I'm not so fond of the broken sleep pattern myself. She keeps coming up with schemes to solve this problem. First, she wanted a bedside toilet. Then she thought a bedpan might do the trick. Last night, she said she would put some pull-up-type diapers under her pillow. I giggled and asked why she would want them under her pillow. Mom replied, "Well, so I can change myself in the night." Ohhhkay.

Last night, Mom needed changing at 9:00, 11:00, and 12:30. I geared up for a night of little sleep. Imagine my surprise when the next thing I heard was my alarm at 7:00. Mom appeared to be still sleeping, but with her gown pulled up to her waist, which was odd. I started coffee, then heard the bell. I went in, thinking I would find a soaked Mama and a soaked bed. Instead, I found two wet, discarded diapers and Mom wearing a wet third. She had indeed managed to change herself in the night! That woman! Never have I met a more determined, self-willed, independent person. She is truly amazing.

Mom said, "That's your Mother's Day gift." And a very surprising and nice one it is.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to the toughest, hardest-working Mom ever!

This is Mom in front of the restaurant she ran one summer before she married Dad.

Stuff a Third Grader Says

While my sister Gayle was here, I got to spend some time with one of my favorite third graders. He is not related to me, but we have been friends since he was in kindergarten. I care about him. He cares about me. So when I saw him last week, I showed him a picture of my mom in her hammock chair. We visited for a bit about life in third grade and life in general, then he asked:

FTG (Favorite Third Grader): Can your mom go places?

Ms. Gwen: Well, she *could* go places, but it makes her tired out just to move from her bed to her wheelchair. We could roll her wheelchair out to the car and she could get in the car, but then she would be all tired out. So she just stays home.

FTG: [thinking] So, do *you* go places?

Ms. Gwen: No, I mostly stay home with my mom.

We chatted about how it's not super fun, but that is my job right now. It's what families do; we take care of each other. Then he said,

FTG: [disgustedly] I don't know who created cancer in the first place.

Oh my. How do such big thoughts get into a third grade brain?

So I shared with my friend my thoughts about how cancer is Satan up to his favorite trick of taking something God has designed for good, and twisting it into something bad and hurtful. Normal cell division gone completely wrong, bringing destruction and death instead of its intended purpose of creation and life.

And then we talked about other things, which is one of the nice things about having a third grader for a friend. He offers me empathy, understanding, and insight in my sorrow, but he doesn't linger in the valley of the shadow for long. My friend has dragons to slay, victories to achieve, books to read, sunshine to enjoy, places to go, people to see. He knows the score, and is still eager to play.

It's a gift. He's a gift. And I am thankful.

Stuff Jesus Says

A sweet high school girl in the youth group reminded me of this today.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Mtt. 11:28-30, NIV

Rest for my soul. Sounds nice.

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to me.
Get away with me and you'll recover your life.
I'll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me
and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Mtt. 11:28-30, MSG

Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
Learn to live freely and lightly.

Yes.

What's New

My sister Gayle came; she saw; she conquered. Thank you, sister, for coming. I know it is not easy.

It was nice to have a week to gather the bits and pieces of my mind. I worked with students when they were available amidst the end-of-the-year craziness. We celebrated Meg's birthday with a wonderful day at the beach. Dave and I met with the realtor at the lake house. A couple of Nate's football buddies came over to the lake house and hauled furniture to the curb for us in advance of the neighborhood garage sale. We all attended Ev's sports banquet. Nate and I stopped by Goodwill and found a wool suit, dress shirt, two ties, and dress shoes, all for $52. Dave and I had a date night. I visited with friends at the Wednesday night dinner. I went to church with my family.

Dave took Gayle to the airport Tuesday morning. Nurse Christy came for an uneventful visit. Cassandra came and while helping Mom into the shower, noticed a pocket of swelling in Mom's thigh. On closer inspection, she had pockets of edema all down through her calf. The doctor said this means Mom's lymph system is shutting down. It is not the type of edema that can be treated. When I called Christy to tell her about the clumps of swelling, I also told her that Mom's catheter was still leaking into her diaper and it was still "stinging." The doctor recommended removing the catheter, with the thinking that Mom's muscle tone would be so low that she would not retain urine this time around. So far it is working well. We have constant diaper changing anyway, so wet diapers are not a problem. And no more "stinging" for Mom is a big plus. She has been sleeping a lot since Tuesday, and I wonder if the catheter pain had been keeping her up.

In my spare time this week, I am trying to reorganize here and make room for, well, everything. Realtor Herman said we need to get everything out of the lake house and spiffy the place up. We are hoping to list at the end of this month. My sister-in-law Cathy is coming next week to tend to Mom, so my plan is to make spaces this week, then move things next week. And hopefully have time left over for spiffying.

Promise

"I'll take the hand of those who don't know the way,
who can't see where they're going.
I'll be a personal guide to them,
directing them through unknown country.
I'll be right there to show them what roads to take,
make sure they don't fall into the ditch.
These are the things I'll be doing for them—
sticking with them, not leaving them for a minute."
Isaiah 42:16, The Message

And that's what God is doing for me. I'm counting on it.