Two Weeks of Living

Two weeks have passed since I last wrote, mostly because my 91 yr. old grandmother ended up in the hospital with a very contagious disease: c-diff. For those who have served as a caregiver, you know it takes time to resurface after long hours away from the norm. As I considered what to write today, I found photos from the last two weeks and decided to enjoy the memories made in the midst of the saga.

A doctor sent grandma to the hospital late in the afternoon. But earlier that day, Don and I took our granddaughter, Catherine, on a field trip. We picked her up from school, got Chick-fil-A, and went to a jumpy place. She's holding her Brave card which she almost left at school... but remembered to find where she changed clothes after morning play-in-the-sprinkler time.



Catherine was born with a diaphragmatic hernia, spent four months in a NICU, and endured countless surgeries before growing into the thriving child she is today. After playing for hours at the jumpy place, we went to McDonald's. The child that once required a feeding tube ate every drop of ice cream on her own... and danced with grandipa.



Back at our home, she made sure grandipa had all he needed for a cozy nap. Only a granddaughter could pull this off...

As we drove Catherine to her home, my sister called. Grandma had been admitted to the hospital due to A-fib and low blood pressure. But within 48 hours it became clear she had c-diff, an intestinal disorder resulting from too many antibiotics. C-diff is very contagious, thus we had to follow strict protocol while in her room. No eating. No drinking. Yellow marshmallow gowns. And latex gloves.

Five days in and still the yellow gowns. And three men in fluffy, golden attire:

Don, Sam, and my dad.



I got away long enough to spend a night at my mom and dads where their dog Lili smooths the rough places in my soul. Every time I visit, this silky creature jumps on my lap, places a paw on each shoulder, and lays her fuzzy neck across my face, offering her one of a kind canine hug. By the time I drove back home, Grandma had finished seven days in the hospital and was in a private nursing home room in her retirement village.

Lili even went to visit grandma this week and gave her a special hug.

My family has ministered in new ways, helping grandma through the last few weeks. While we've known her mind isn't as sharp as it once was, dealing with dementia 24/7 up close and personal has allowed for a different challenge. I repeated the same conversation at times almost every eight minutes as she repeatedly asked, "Why am I here? What's wrong with me? When can I go home?"

I've answered those questions so many creative, heartfelt ways only to be asked again. Which is why I'm glad I had a chance to share lunch with these girls and tell a story dear to my heart; my red rose God really loves us story that changed my life years ago. I try to tell it every year so I'll remember. Cause I forget. Like grandma. And God has to reassure me over and over.

After hours and days trying to calm grandma's repetitive worries, I wondered how God keeps up with us all. A chorus of concern must rise when our worries exceed our ability to believe and we ask why? and are you sure? yet again. Can you imagine what heaven hears on any given day?

Trying to keep grandma from a wrinkled brow for just two weeks wore me out.

So thanks Shanette, Blake, Anna, and Audrey, for coming over and letting me tell my story again.

It was good to remember after a week fighting to help another not forget.

"God also said to Moses, 'Say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers —the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob —has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, the
name by which I am to be remembered from generation to generation." (Ex. 3: 15)

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