Saying good-bye

I don’t want this to be a long, drawn-out rehashing of what our family went through Thanksgiving Week but I do want to record the highs and lows and the special memories that took place as we said ‘goodbye’ to our wonderful Dad.

Today marks one week since we said "goodbye" and my last blog detailed the decision to bring Dad home on Hospice care.  It was the best decision.  Almost immediately, he became less agitated.  He seemed to rest more.  We never gave up hope that he might be able to eat or drink once home, but it was not to be.  Juju and I spent the weekend getting things set up so that we could take turns staying the night with Mom and go straight to work in the mornings from her house.  Turns out, Jesus had other plans.

To describe our last moments together as a family, it would seem that I am taking a scene right out of a Hallmark movie.  Juju called me at 3:00am Monday morning to return to Mom’s.  She called the pastor around 8:00am to ask him to come over, later in the morning, when he was available.  And at 10:00am we were gathered around his bed, holding hands with Dad, and praying from Romans 8 when he took his last breaths.  It was God’s way of giving me the comfort and more importantly the peace that I had prayed for throughout this journey.

The phone calls, texts, fb posts, flowers, food and visits by friends, near and far overwhelmed me and kept me going.  There was a lot of reminiscing amongst the family.  We tried to come up with the last time we had any ‘real’ conversations with Dad.  I am not sure we ever came up with an answer to that.  Which emphasized that this had been a long battle with a slow deterioration over time.  I do know that the Saturday we took him outside at Rehab and sat in the sun and wind, was the last time he seemed ‘alert’.  I am so glad I have those pictures of him smiling and laughing.  They will bring tears for some time to come, but I have them.  And I cherish them.   I will also have the distinct joy of laughing at the last thing he said to me before taking him home from Rehab.  Hubby came down and sat with Dad while we moved to another room to talk to the Hospice admitting nurse. When I went back in the room, Dad told me that he “didn’t like him one bit. Not at all.”  I looked over at Hubby and he just shrugged.  Dad continued to reiterate that he “didn’t like him. At all. Not one bit.”  Poor Hubby.  We figure he got on Dad’s bad side by not letting him get up out of bed.  It was the shtick that would bring us laughs while we went about the business of planning Dad’s service. 

Planning Dad’s service felt like making more decisions than I did for my wedding.  Thankfully Mom and Dad had a pre-paid package and when they gave us the comparison of what they paid and what it would cost for the same service today…Whoa!  That’s how you sell a funeral package.  I’ll be looking into that ASAP. We were so blessed by the many out-of-town family that came to remember Dad’s life with us.  In fact, we were touched by all of the people that came to be with us on that day; neighbors of many years, high school friends and former teachers and our co-workers, past and present. It was truly appreciated.  My co-workers have been on this journey with me for many years and they know how to lighten up any situation, so after the service they came up with a theme song to be used at my service…”All My Exes Live in Texas.”  Apparently they noticed that my “husbands” were pallbearers and two other exes were in attendance.  Hey… I can’t help it if I am just that fabulous… LOL    We counted 39 people at Mom’s house for the meal after the service and only about 5 people were not family.  If you haven’t caught on through all of my blogging….family is everything and I certainly have some friends that count as family!

The world goes on around me.  I know it will take some time to find a new normal.  Like being able to walk in the back gate and not expect to see Dad sitting in his chair on the patio.  That one hurts a little bit right now.  I have one voicemail on my phone, but he was in the hospital at the time, and his voice doesn’t seem right.  I am going to miss him picking up the phone at the house and having that pause before he said, with a drawl. “hel-lo”.  I guess I could go on and on about the things I am going to miss. 

Our theme throughout this journey was “hope” and just because Dad is gone doesn’t mean that I am without hope.  My new hope is in the promise of Jesus Christ that I am going to be reunited with him one day in heaven. And I hope to find him sitting on a patio with a beautiful view. 

Bringing Daddy Home… (by Julie & Amy)

If you are a follower of our blogs, you know that we had some decisions to make this week. Those decisions have been made and we are bringing Dad home from Rehab.  We will be caring for him at home with the assistance of Hospice.  We feel strongly that being at home is what will be best not only for Dad but for all of us as a family.  Home is where we have done our living, celebrating holidays and good times and home is where our hearts lie. 

As we sat as a family and listened to the Hospice nurse share information and answer questions it became quite clear to her that while we were choosing Hospice we were not choosing to give up HOPE.   Hope has been at the center of this battle from day one.  It seems that Aaron Shust’s “My Hope Is In You” was on the radio a lot during those early weeks and we both clung to lyrics. He is our refuge.  He gives us HOPE.  Take the “sic” out of Hospice and you get Hope.  How cool is that?  

The timing of dad’s homecoming is especially appropriate and gives us yet another reason to be thankful this Thanksgiving holiday.

We are blessed by the friends and family that have provided support throughout our journey.    A verse that has appeared in a previous blog is fitting for today…”Rejoice in hope, endure in suffering, and persist in prayer.” Romans 12:12  So while we move forward, please continue your prayers and rejoice with us in hope.

A little bit of this, that and the other

It’s been a while since I blogged.  I have been high-jacking Juju’s blog each time she posted an update on Dad.  This blog is going to be kind of random and all over the place. There is no “theme”. Just my thoughts spilling out onto the page. I hope you don’t get bored.

These last few weeks have been hard.  Dad was admitted to the hospital and then transferred to a Rehab facility.  The gist was that we were giving him nutrition through the IV for 2 weeks to help build him back up.  He is stronger. Physically.  We still have huge deficits in his memory and reasoning.  As in, his brain still won’t reason that he has to eat in order to continue his recovery.  More about that later.

If I ever doubted that God sees our struggles and knows our heart’s needs, the doubt has been put to rest.  By the end of last week, I had received 2 cards in the mail from a cousin and a sweet co-worker/friend that simply let me know they were thinking about me and that they cared.  I also had a lifelong friend pick me up and take me to dinner Thursday.  Where we laughed.  A lot.  We have tons of history so it was easy to go back in the vault and reminisce about the good ol’ days.  Like my Mom freaking out on me about my B in World History in front of my friend while we were giving her a ride home.  I am not sure that she ever asked for a ride after that.  It traumatized her.  It traumatized me.  I don’t think I made a B in that class for the rest of the year.  Funny thing is, it has affected both of us when it comes to our kids’ performance.  I told her, in my most dead-pan voice, that “I keep my expectations low so that when Boy does well, I am always surprised and pleased.”  I thought she was going to spit out her soup.  Good times. 

Last week also brought out the ‘sentimental’ in me as it was Senior Pep Rally.  I can’t tell you how proud I am of Boy. He has grown up so much in the last year.  I am not prone to crying in public, but let me tell you, I got a little choked up watching him on the gym floor holding the candle knowing that at the end of this year, he will be a certified young adult. 

So next week is Thanksgiving.  I am doing my best to stay focused on the things I have to be thankful for.  I know for sure that I am thankful that we are catering the dinner at Mom’s house.  If I have to duct tape her to the couch to keep her out of the kitchen, I will. I promise.  It’s a no-muss, no-fuss year.  Paper china and disposable cups.  I even just brainstormed an idea that we all wear our sweat suits so we can do a family picture and all be dressed like Dad. I’d order an 11x14 and frame that picture.

Thanksgiving also means it is time to get out the holiday decorations.  Hubby has already let it be known that he is getting the boxes and down and heading out of town.  I invite you to read my previous blog explaining why decorating is going to be “so much fun” this year.

 http://highstrungmusings.blogspot.com/2012/01/easing-into-new-year.html

 In fact, when I went back and read that blog, I was comforted in knowing that I held up some of my resolutions for the year.  Like being thankful every day.  I made a fb post about that last week.  I am not putting a “thankful” post on fb each day this month, but I am thankful in my own way each day for the love I have in my life.  The love of my family as we fight for each day. The love of my friends and co-workers who have known the exact moments that I needed a pick-me-up. And the love of Jesus Christ.  He doesn’t promise us tomorrow, but he promises us an eternity in His presence.

Back to Dad.  I am going to get real for a moment so if this makes you uncomfortable, stop now and have a great week.  

Ok. So Dad is still in rehab receiving his IV with nutrition.  We are stronger, but still not where we need to be.  I posted some pictures of us on fb where he was smiling and laughing.  When I look at those, they make me smile.  But it’s a flat image.  A snapshot of a moment and it certainly doesn’t tell the whole story.  While we are so grateful that Dad felt up to getting in the chair and going outside, it wasn’t “Dad”.  He was confused.  He stays confused.  For the first time, I don’t think he recognized Boy when he was telling his Papa “bye” at the end of his visit.  The faraway look in Dad’s eyes and the fact he didn’t call him by name nearly broke my heart. I am not going to judge these moments.  I am just going to cherish every smile, every laugh, and each moment.  “Dad” may not be on the surface, but he’s there. Somewhere.  And I love him. This week will be a week with a lot of information and possible changes.  Hopefully those changes will get us “home for the holidays”. 

I am going to end this rambling mess with another “Thank you” to all of our friends and families who have prayed, visited, called, sent cards or goodies and expressed your well wishes.  We love you!

A slap in the face

Sometimes God needs to get your attention.  He can do so gently. Or he can do so with a big ol' slap right across the face.  The latter happened this weekend.

Dad continues to weaken.  There is no quick fix.  There may not be a fix at all.  It is unspoken in the family, but each one of us know the reality.  Mom lives it 24-7.  Julie lives it everyday after work and the weekends.  I live it one to two times a week and the weekends.  We don't have to say it out loud.  Our hearts know it.

It seems like each week that passes we have to make some sort of small, but often significant, change.  We have moved from using a cane to prompting Dad to use a walker.  We have gone from his recliner to a lift chair.  Mom now helps Dad with his medicine by placing it in his mouth to assure it gets there. And last night we turned a corner about Dad being able to sit out on his beloved patio. 

Dad's last appointment showed that he has experienced some infarctions, aka, strokes.  At least two.  By symptoms he has displayed recently, he may still be having small ones that we are unaware of.   Yesterday was evidence of how those strokes have impacted his time on the patio.   After enjoying an afternoon sitting out in this wonderful, autumn weather, it was time to come in.  Dad couldn't.   It was scary.  We contemplated calling the FD to help us.  Even with Mom, Juju, Boy and myself on the patio, we were not getting Dad to make the connection to move his feet where they needed to go in order to get him back in the house.  We have a wheelchair and ramp, but due to the incompetence's of a "recommended" (by Main Street Azle Home Health) handy man, it would take a person much stronger than any of those present to get Dad up the ramp and into the house.  Ironic.  It would take a guy as strong as my Dad used to be to get someone up that ramp.   Eventually, with all four of us helping Dad, supporting his weight, and encouraging/telling him where to move each foot we made it inside.  Never in a million years would I have pictured the ordeal that I just went through.  Never.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  This is not going in the direction that we have prayed for.  Begged for.  Hoped for.  Wished for.  How can this be happening to us.

With Mom and Dad settled in for the evening, I headed out to Juju's house.  I spend either Friday or Saturday with her to cut down on the miles driven back and forth to my home.   I owe her a day of laundry for all of the towels and wash cloths that I have used and a day of vacuuming for all of the hair that drops out of my head onto her floor.  I tried to read a book to take my mind off of the fact, that after tonight, Dad's patio time might be very limited. Or gone.  Reading didn't help so I just turned out the light and let the exhaustion take me into a fitful sleep.

When I get to Mom's this morning to stay with Dad, while she goes to church, I picked up the copy of "Jesus Calling" that I had given Dad when he was first in the hospital for chemo.  I used to read it faithfully but as I have grown weary in this fight, I grew weary reading the words of someone else telling me to keep the faith.  To be honest, after reading today's passage, my first instinct was to take the book and throw it outside.  It was a slap.  A hard slap.  Delivered from the words of Jesus.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord. Remember that all good things- your possessions, your family and friends, your health and abilities, your time- are gifts from Me.  Instead of feeling entitled to all these blessings, respond to them with gratitude.  Be prepared to let go of anything I take from you, but never let go of My hand.

I am pretty sure that was the slap heard around the world.  If God is trying to get me to prepare my heart, guess what?  I don't want to.  I still want to throw that book out the door.  I know that this time is a gift from God.  But I want more.  I want more the way things USED to be.  I don't want to have to have "new normals".  So yeah.  I heard the message loud and clear.  God gives and God takes away.  I am just begging that He stops taking the little things.  And the big things for that matter.  I will cling to His hand.  But being prepared is a lot to ask.





This blog is not about cancer…

So a conversation the other day at lunch made me think about the way other people view me and my “reputation”.   After 20 years of teaching, I am sure I have all sorts of reputations.  The b*tch teacher that would take up your hat as soon as you walked in the building if you forgot to remove it.   Who would send you to the office if your shorts were too short.  Who took the top scores for the Varsity Cheer Squad even if it meant a Freshmen made Varsity and a Junior made the JV.  (Hey, if Freshmen football players can make Varisty and Junior boys are playing on the JV squad, shut your mouth.  Equality.  Title IX, etc… If you don’t like it, practice harder and tell your Momma to shut up.   I guess I have a little b*tch left in me).  I have also been the teacher that nominated kids to go to Washington DC for an amazing trip.  I have been the teacher at countless ball games cheering for my students on my own time.  They don’t pay extra for that.  I have donated clothes to the counselor’s office to be given to students in need.   Fifteen years down the road and thanks to Hubby, I have become the teacher that focuses on the “whole” student.  I really have to give credit to him for making me a better teacher.  Who knew that an old basketball coach would be such a great educator?  Well, I guess Norman Public Schools did, they awarded him with Secondary Teacher of the Year.   If you knew me as Mrs./Ms. Jones in the classroom, I am different now.  I like to think I am better. 

Next we have my reputation as a “princess”.  I have blogged about it before.  I have no shame in admitting that I like to be spoiled.  I have admitted that Hubby does a pretty grand job taking care of that.  He never complains about my boots.  He doesn’t complain that I don’t cook a full meal every night of the week.  He never complains about the amount of time I spend with family and friends.  He does laundry. The way I like it.  He buys groceries and always gets my favorites.  He keeps my car spic and span.  Always.  So it’s this “princess” reputation that caused a moment of hilarity the other day at lunch.

I was telling a story bragging about how I had canceled my mani/pedi in order to be at Mom’s house to help load a couch that she was giving to Too Tall. And to make it even more selfless  dramatic, they only had the mani spot available the next day so I was going to have to do without the pedi.  I am sharing going on and on about how Mom got new furniture and she was giving the old stuff away.  (Dad got a new lift chair which meant new couch and love seat to match.  No cancer talk, just furniture) Juju got the Love Seat and Too Tall was taking the couch.  Since Mom was storing it in the garage, the sooner we loaded it up the better.  Hunter wasn’t going to be able to make it down to help load it and I didn’t want Mom there alone trying to help Too Tall by herself. Hence the cancelled appointment.  (Juju was coming to help, but I was scared she might get stuck in traffic) To make myself look better To get the full effect, I had to provide details about getting that couch loaded.  How I picked up one end and then jumped up in the back of the truck and helped move it to the end.  Come on guys.  I was feeling like a first class hero for my efforts.  And all the while being a martyr giving up my mani/pedi.  I expected my co-workers to bust out with a chorus of angel music to confirm just what a wonderful person I was and I got this.  Wait for it.  It’s hilarious.  Swallow your food and drink before reading any further….Co-worker #1, “That’s sweet but I can’t get past the physical labor? You lifted a couch?”  Bam. Pow! Snap.  Yes, my “princess” reputation precedes me.

It's the little things

Life is full of moments.  When you take inventory, some are little. Some are big.  Lately, I have been focusing on the little things.  Some make me happy.  Some make me want to scream.  Let's take inventory together.

Little things that make me smile:

• going to Sam Moons and finding the unexpected; my black ear warmer headband with a little bling (instagram if you haven't seen it)
• a text message from a friend at a random time that let's you know they are thinking of you
• finally finishing Boy's Yearbook ad and falling in love with the pic.
• setting aside my own heartbreak about not getting to go to Mt Nebo and offering our reservations to Boy's family.
• being able to look at Juju and without words know that we are thinking the exact same thing.
• watching Juju go all "mama bear" and set someone straight.
• Mom's hot cocoa with a ton of marshmallows.
• my electric blankie.
• sharing a funny story with a former student knowing that you are just proving the fact that you might have gone crazy in your old age, but still laugh with you, not at you.
• the idea of Hunter's graduation cruise.
• Hubby bringing me donuts on the weekends.

Little things that make me want to scream:

• staying up late when I KNOW I need to go to bed.
• running out of detergent in the middle of being on a roll doing laundry.
• teachers that think the worst of kids instead of looking for the best. (if they show you the worst, deal with it, but don't expect it all the time, geez!)
• well meaning people telling us what to feed Dad, like the french fries, onion rings, hamburgers, tacos, pizza, pork chops, pulled pork bbq, fish, chicken strips, taco soup, potato soup, potato chowder, minestrone, corn, green beans, green peas, carrots, baked potatoes, fried potatoes, fried okra, corn bread, rolls with honey, nilla wafers, ritz crackers, peanut butter, apple fritters, baked ham, stuffing, ensure, glucerna, boost, yogurt, frozen yogurt, sherbet, ice-cream, muscle milk just weren't what he wanted... Yes. Please tell me what you think Dad needs to try and eat because I am sure that we haven't thought of it.
• and speaking of food issues, not being able to walk away from the junk and continuing to stress eat. (um, so this one is tricky because the donuts make me smile)

Life is full of little things.  I try to focus on the ones that make me smile.  Especially the donuts. I hope at some point reading this, you smiled.

Thoughts popping out of my head

I am taking advantage of being home alone.  Hubby went to visit his Dad for the weekend.  Boy is sitting on top of Mt. Nebo enjoying God's beautiful creation.  Most of you know this is the weekend my family goes up to our favortie cabin. And most of you know that Dad's health prevented us from making the trip.  You might even remember that last year Too Tall went on the trip with us.  Well, he and Boy had planned on their own cabin this year and when we had to cancel I suggested that Too Tall's family take over the reservation for the big cabin.  Everybody should get the chance to spend time on the mountain.  And our chance rolls around again next October.  Juju has the cabin booked for Columbus Day weekend 2013.

So here I am curled up under an electric blanket (which Hubby will flip about when he gets home and discovers it) and thought I would take a moment to purge my thoughts.  Let the bullet points fly...

*Juju has the best hubby.  He has let me be a third wheel for years.  He chauffeurs us around on shopping trips.  He always provides front row drop off and pick up.  And he even did all of the leg work for booking Hunter's graduation cruise.  I just didn't have it in me to try to figure all of the stuff out and I took advantage his previous cruise experience.  I can't tell you what a relief it is to have it booked.

*Work has been kicking my bootie.  We have all of this new technology at our fingertips.  I have a new curriculum that I am required to use.  And I am doing my best to stay on top of it all.  I know the saying is to "work smarter, not harder" but I am not sure that is possible in my situation.  I am working harder at getting smarter.  (side note- I crack up every day when I see girls using their iPads. As mirrors. I have seen more primping in class this year than the backstage coverage at the Miss USA pageant.)

*Juju and I keep learning new things about "chemo/radiation brain".  Like, if your Dad seems confused, do not, I repeat, do not ask him if he knows who you are.  I have a new sister as a result of that question.  You really have to laugh instead of cry.  So now our family consists of Mom, Dad, Juju, me and that other blonde girl.  She seems nice.  I guess we will let her stay.

*Dad's hair is actually coming back.  In little patches.  Hopefully his memory will come back just the same.

*Last week I was ready to change the name of my blog to "Diary of an Angry, Middle-Aged, White Woman".  Life was getting rough.  I even made a voice recording on my phone outlining a blog about how ticked off I really was.  I think I am past that now. Maybe.  For today.

*Juju and I are forming up a team to walk in the 2013 Relay for Life.  We would love for you to join 
us.

*I think our Hubby's deserve another shout out today.  Juju and I have been spending a lot of time at Mom and Dad's.  In the meantime, the guys have been doing laundry, keeping the houses picked up, going to WalMart, a lot, and never once complaining.  When you know that things are not falling apart at home it makes it a little easier to be gone so much.  

So here we start another week.  Another week of hoping.  Another week of counting good days by the number of falls Dad has in a 24 hour period.  Another CT Scan.  And another week of getting to know the new girl.  (had to end on a smile, and I hope she knows she is not in the contest for favorite daughter, that's a two-girl race!)