Seriously, God?

***WARNING: Skip this entry if you are squeamish in the least. Or if you have a problem with ranting at God. ***

I mean, seriously?

It's not enough that I change my mother's diapers and empty her bedpan?

It's not enough that the city only collects trash once a week and after seven days of diaper changes every two hours plus life with seven people plus temps in the nineties our trash is overflowing and filled with maggots so I get to boil them and bleach them and scrub down the trash can?

Did we really have to add maggots all over the kitchen floor to the list of horrors?

Seriously???

Back in the Saddle Again

(Nothing like a little Aerosmith soundtrack in your head to start the day off right.)

My dear sister in law Cathy has flown back to KC. She came last Wednesday intending to stay for a week, then extended her visit through yesterday. (Pity? Fear? Grace?) I am so grateful. During Cathy's time here with Mom, I was able to:

*Haul boxes to storage and Mom's house
*Have dinner with my besty from high school
*Get sick and spend an early night plus all the next day in bed
*Go to church
*Take Dave to the airport for his two weeks of studies in California
*Have dinner out with Ev
*Move most of the lake house furniture to storage (thank you Perry and football boys and Pickerings and Smith boys oh and Bret for the trailer)
*Paint the trim in the upstairs of the lake house
*Pack up master bedroom and bathroom
*Run errands and tote children

As I've come to expect, I was disappointed with myself about the lake house. In my mind, I think I should be able to work around the clock and get the place ready to sell. The reality however is that working at the lake house is so emotionally draining, I can't take an all-day session. It is better now that most of the moving is done and we are down to cleaning and painting. We are hoping to knock it out when Gayle comes at the end of June.

Mama is losing ground. She is sleeping more and more, spending only about 5 hours awake out of every 24. It is harder and harder for her to get out of bed and she doesn't like assistance. Nurse Christy surmises it won't be long before she doesn't get out of bed at all. Mom's appetite comes and goes. Yesterday after Cathy left, Mom didn't eat anything at all for the rest of the day. She did have breakfast this morning, an egg and a half piece of toast. She drinks her half cup of coffee, and crunches on some ice throughout the day. Not much to go on.

Mom's emotional state ebbs and flows as well. She was very thankful for Cathy's care. She has said kind words here and there to others, especially Cassandra/Carissa/Keturah and Nurse Christy. But she is still Mom and is weary and gets annoyed with people for being human. She still gets "stuck" on things which are beyond her control and worries them around in her mind and refuses to pray. And we all know how ugly that can be. Cathy and I discussed telling Mom that Nate needs her phone just so she would no longer have means to share her mind with others.

Mom is of course still longing for this struggle to be over. I don't know why she must linger while others are taken who want to stay. She feels she is close to death, but truthfully she's felt close for a long time. It could be wishful thinking on her part, or it could be that she has always been so strong and cannot imagine living in such a weakened state. Honestly, I don't think Mom will go anytime soon unless her heart gives out. She's still eating and drinking enough to sustain; all systems still function; she still reads and occasionally watches her programs. The Big Evil takes up about 1/3 of her abdomen, but Mom still maintains it causes her no pain. (Just don't touch it or she winces.)

So on we go into the unknown. Onward and upward, and try as we might, not gently.

Sheer Mercy and Grace

God is sheer mercy and grace;
not easily angered, he's rich in love.
He doesn't endlessly nag and scold,
nor hold grudges forever.
He doesn't treat us as our sins deserve,
nor pay us back in full for our wrongs.

As high as heaven is over the earth,
so strong is his love to those who fear him.
And as far as sunrise is from sunset,
he has separated us from our sins.
As parents feel for their children,
God feels for those who fear him.

He knows us inside and out,
keeps in mind that we're made of mud.
Men and women don't live very long;
like wildflowers they spring up and blossom,
But a storm snuffs them out just as quickly,
leaving nothing to show they were here.

God's love, though, is ever and always,
eternally present to all who fear him,
Making everything right for them and their children
as they follow his Covenant ways
and remember to do whatever he said.

Psalm 103:8-18, The Message

The bad news is we are still floundering. Nothing has improved with Mom's condition or our circumstances; in fact, some new twists have been added, reminding me to never ever say, "What else could go wrong?"

The good news is we have life preservers: Mercy and Grace. If you go to church and/or love Jesus or know someone who does, you have probably heard these words before. Mercy and Grace. We bandy the words about a lot, but what do they mean really? I can give you definitions.
Mercy=Not getting the bad stuff I've earned.
Grace=Getting good stuff I haven't earned.
But what are they really? What do Mercy and Grace look like? I can show you. I see them every day.

When my kids come home from church and I snarl and snap enough to make them afraid to answer a simple question, and then minutes later my son comes into the kitchen and says, "What can I do to help you?"
That's Mercy and Grace.

When my daughter is in a rush to get somewhere and needs to eat before she goes because it is not safe for her to eat anywhere else, and the burgers won't cook, won't cook, won't cook, until I realize I've set the 16-inch cast iron skillet on the smallest burner, and she just laughs in a nice way and says gently, "Oh my gosh, Mom!"
That's Mercy and Grace.

When my oldest, whose longtime motto reads, "I'm the boss and you're not," and whose recent favorite saying is, "I'm an adult; I do what I want," offers her free time to run errands for me, totes her siblings around, and includes them in her life.
That's Mercy and Grace.

When my youngest helps without being asked, helps when asked, shares books with me, shares tears with me.
That's Mercy and Grace.

When we have our first family dinner in who knows how long, and we spend it grousing at each other, and then we can laugh about it later and my husband texts to say, "Sorry for being so grumpy."
That's Mercy and Grace.

When my sister Ruth breaks her ankle, needing surgery and incapacitated for her upcoming respite turn, and my sister in law quickly makes plans to return today, fitting in a week here before she tends to other people in other places.
That's Mercy and Grace.

So, as my good friend and I decided, we are floundering but not sunk. We are borne up by Mercy and Grace, all around us, every day.
Thank God!

Pep Talk

Just ordered this:

Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.

I'm thinking top of the bathroom mirror. Daily pep talk.

Thanks to my dear friend MVM for drawing the Mr. Magorium quote to my attention. It's just what I needed.

Floundering

Dave said to me last night, "You should blog." And I replied, "I'm too muddled to blog!" But in the firm belief that my husband knows me well and has good ideas, and that writing helps to clarify thinking, here goes.

We are floundering. Almost all of us.

Mom is increasingly nauseous, critical, stubborn, and spacey.

I am snappish, short, and really I just want to go read a book on a beach somewhere, when what I actually need to do is buck up and unpack all these boxes. As a compromise, I'm eating everything in sight.

Dave is under the weather and needs to finish up his doctoral reading and papers before next Sunday when he goes to California for his last on site two week session. Stress, anyone?

Karis just returned from Disney with her nanny family.
Meg is on her third week of a minimester of sophomore level BritLit.
Nate is surly.
Ev is weepy.

With our church, we are grieving the loss of a lovely lady in her 60s who passed away this past week after a two year struggle with a brain tumor, leaving a husband, two daughters, and four young grandchildren.

Cancer is evil and death sucks. There's my clear thinking.

Back on Duty

My dear sil Cathy flew back to Kansas City yesterday. She tended to Mom so graciously, and managed to help me quite a bit too. Thank you, Cathy! While she was here, I worked on clearing and cleaning the lake house, drove kids around, voted, had breakfast with a friend, attended a work meeting and an end-of-year celebration, and went to church.

Now I'm back on duty. Mom is notably tired. She still eats a big breakfast, but then feels nauseous and only eats dribs and drabs throughout the day. Ex.: 1/4 cup of stir fried veggies for dinner last night after eating nothing since lunch. The Big Evil is bigger than I've ever seen. It has to be terribly uncomfortable, but Mom doesn't complain. She is still using a bedpan to pee and is very happy about it, but only pees while sleeping. This seems to interrupt her sleep, and I no longer feel comfortable going for a walk or showering while she's asleep in case she rings for her bedpan.

My sister Ruth is on the schedule to come the first full week of June, and Gayle is tentative about coming the end of June. I keep thinking, "Surely this won't go on that long," but I've been thinking that thought for about a year now. No way to call it, so we'll just keep going day to day. Good thing God's mercies are new every morning.

Hard

This move is hard. It surprised me.

I don't know why it surprised me, because of course it is hard. My mom is dying; we are leaving the home where our children grew up over the past almost 12 years; we are saying good-bye to good neighbors; we are moving to a smaller house with a much smaller kitchen and no lake down the street. Maybe it surprised me because mentally I had it all worked out, why this was beneficial. It puts my mom's mind at ease about her beloved house; we are in a more central location; downsizing is good; economical boon.

I know all this is true. I guess my heart hasn't caught up to my brain just yet, which makes my heart a little sore. I'm sure it will get better. Of course when we moved from our last house 12 years ago, the house we brought our babies home to, I lay on the empty floor and cried, so maybe it will get worse before it gets better.

Hard to say.

ETA: I may have turned a corner with the move and mourning our old house. How? The oddest thing. God reminded me of struggles we have had during our time in that house. Some we walked through together, some were veiled in secrecy, some I didn't even know about until they were over, and some I could barely keep my own head above water so everyone had to fend for themselves. Yes, the lake house is full of memories, but not all happy ones. A fresh start sounds good.
Let's do it.