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Alzheimer's Disease, Attending or Focus, Family, Friends, Grace, Lessons Learned, Marginalized People, Memories, Monday Morning Moment, Remembering, Stories

“I’m the Boss” – Dad and Alzheimer’s – A Strange Companionship

June 15, 2015 admindeb Leave a comment

After I punched in the security code (to keep residents in rather than us out), the heavy door released its lock allowing entrance to the memory care unit, First thing, I could hear Dad before even seeing him. He was sitting on the sofa, holding the toy he loves most – a dinosaur given to him by his daughter-in-law. [He thinks it’s a kangaroo, and, in fairness, it sort of looks like one]. He was staring off, repeating over and over, “I’m the boss. I’m the boss.”

The staff and other residents around this common room seemed completely unscathed by his declaration. A “stranger” entering the room broke the normalcy of the atmosphere. I’m sure they knew it made me uncomfortable to see my dad “lost” in some other consciousness. He has Alzheimer’s.

I’ve written about Dad’s life with Alzheimer’s before (here). He was admitted into an assisted living facility only four-and-a-half months ago. He continues to do very well, despite life-threatening situations (blocked carotid arteries, metastatic colon cancer, and now Alzheimer’s). He amazes me, really. It is obvious, from visit to visit, that his disease is taking its toll. Yet there’s so much of Dad there still, and we are all so grateful.

A couple of months ago, Dad could still have conversations with us. He needed prodding, but the stories would come – fascinating, detailed stories of his growing up years and ours. I have always loved his stories. And the funniest jokes. Even when they weren’t funny, he enjoyed them so much, it made them funny.

In recent weeks, conversations are becoming shorter, more of a chore. He still has great, comforting memories but the fire of remembering has to be stoked considerably. As far as short-term memory goes, he may not remember what he had for supper an hour ago, but he remembers so many other things. – that Dave loves strawberries, and that he still loves the Atlanta Braves, and exactly how to tease each of his grandchildren. When one of them visited recently and called his dinosaur a cat, he got all “offended”. Dad has fussed about it since, at each mention of grandson Jeremy’s name. He will forget eventually, but for now, it stirs an affectionate pot in his mind.

[None of us could ever beat him in arm-wrestling, and as frail as he is, he hasn’t forgotten how to wear us out and eventually draw down our arms.]

With Alzheimer’s, the world of those affected seems to get smaller and smaller. We used to have long, meandering conversations. I miss the dad of those conversations. We’ve been fortunate in that he is still much like himself, with less words. He loves to eat and loves to laugh. I treasure that laugh of his. He still loves people and having visits from his pastor, friends and family, and his hospice nurses.Especially his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Dad has gotten less interested in going out of his assisted living facility. It feels safe to him. Comfortable. Once we’re out though, he is engaged – talking to the other drivers, telling me how to drive, looking for coins on the road (like we’re going to stop and pick them up). Alzheimer’s took away his freedom to drive but it also took away his desire to drive – a strange companionship, this disease and those who contend with it.

One afternoon, we joined other residents in listening to and singing with a church choir in the great room of the facility – outside of the memory care unit. The world feels much larger there. The choir led in some old Gospel songs – “Victory in Jesus”, “Take It to the Lord in Prayer”, “I’ll Fly Away”. At first Dad seemed to really enjoy the singing, and then, he “went away”. Lost in his thoughts and memories. I left him there…somewhere apart, following a scene I could not see.

After the choir finished, we walked back to the memory care unit, and he joined others for supper. Each has his or her own incredible life. Each now with different companions than they might have chosen – both at the table with them, and inside their own thoughts.

In watching Dad through his diminishing memory, and seeing those around him struggle, I’m struck by the dignity of life that we must battle to preserve. This quieter, mind-wandering, lovely old gentleman is still our Dad.

His repetitive “I’m the boss. I’m the boss.” is not surprising. With little education afforded to him as a farmer’s son during the Great Depression, he was rarely anyone’s boss. However, he has lived his life (for all the time I’ve known him) with such a confidence and determination, with autonomy and authority. With so much dignity that not even dementia can steal, hopefully.

Now, with Alzheimer’s, he won’t be easily convinced that he’s NOT the boss.

Maybe, it’s his turn…for a season.

[Big Dogs t-shirt with message (on the back) “I Am the Boss” – Happy Father’s Day present from that same daughter-in-law with a knack for great gifts – as in the dinosaur/kangaroo/cat toy Dad loves]

Repetition and Alzheimer’s

A Different Season of Life – Dad & Alzheimer’s

Alzheimer’s, the Brain, and the Soul

Alzheimer’s Reading Room – to Educate and Empower Alzheimer’s caregivers, their families, and the entire Alzheimer’s Community

Alzheimer’s Speaks Blog – Giving Voice to Those Affected by Alzheimer’s

Memories From My Life Blog – Memory Posters

The Best Alzheimer’s Blogs of the Year (2015)

12 Behaviors that Trouble Alzheimer’s Caregivers

Alzheimer’s: 25 Signs Never to Ignore

Alzheimer's Disease, Babies & Children, Faithfulness, Family, Grace, Home, Inspired, Life Skills, Mom and Dad, Remembering, Seasons, Thanksgiving or Gratefulness, Transitions

A Different Season of Life – Dad & Alzheimer’s

January 31, 2015 admindeb 11 Comments

I sometimes wonder- when we’re out and about – what people think of this cute old guy , shuffling along holding my hand. Just this past week, we were in an antique mall together, just looking and giving him opportunity to walk some. One of the clerks made all over him. He smiled, looking almost shy, and responded brightly and humorously to her questions and comments. For ever how many minutes he would remember that encounter, it was a sweet experience for him…and the clerk…and for me.

My Dad is 92 years young and he has Alzheimer’s. His memory has taken a toll from this disease, but his personality is as fun and sunny as it’s ever been. He’s a jokester – loves to tease and engage others, especially children, and I don’t think he’s ever met a stranger. He has been a great story-teller, but this skill is passing into the twilight of his memory loss. Still, he is still so surprising, just this week popping out a joke I’d never heard [“I heard that there was this lady who was great at keeping house. Every time she got a divorce, she kept the house.”].

Mom died over 10 years ago, so Dad has been the one to teach me so much about growing old. I had an aunt who had Alzheimer’s years ago. In fact, my parents cared for her in their home for as long as they could. Her experience with Alzheimer’s made us all sad at the diminishing effects of it on her life. So far, Dad’s bout with this disease has not left him without his joy in life and his family. At 92, his friends are few, but his memories are so many and so rich that he still has some.

Toward the end of the Great Depression, Dad had to drop out of school to help his father with their farm. He worked alongside his little sister and marveled how she seemed to always pick more cotton than he did in a day. A mischief was born in my dad in those days that continues today. When he and his sister talk about these lean years growing up, they both have such a joy in them remembering those days. This sweet aunt also has Alzheimer’s, and although her memory, like Dad’s, has worsened, her personality continues to be untouched, again like Dad’s. It’s such a joy for me to see her face light up when Dad remembers a story that she also remembers.

Dad only finished 6th grade, but he schooled himself in life, learning farming from his dad, and then in the years since, carpentry, plumbing, electrical work. To me, he could always do anything.

As a teen, he went with the Civilian Conservation Corps and worked on various road and park projects with other young men. Then he joined the Army during World War II. He fought in the Hedgerow (or Hedge Grove) Battles of Normandy with the 315th Infantry. He was a machine gunner and worked with a rocket launcher team. When we were younger, Dad wouldn’t talk about the war, but in his elder years, and until Alzheimer’s dulled his memory of details, he would tell us about those days. He even once had a brief conversation with General George Patton. His stories sent me searching for details about those battles. Amazing stories.

He married very young and has 5 children from his first marriage. Some years later, when he married my mom, he also took on 4 more children of hers. He’s the only dad I’ve ever known. I’m so grateful for his love, and work ethic, and determination in life. He and mom made a good team. The years of growing up with them married were the years that I learned about Jesus and became a Christ-follower.

Dad always had a servant heart. If he wasn’t out on a service truck somewhere helping someone, he was on the phone, talking someone through how to fix something. Like I said, he loved to work, and never minded calls from family, friends, neighbors who needed him.

He and my mom would do a lot of serving together. They were very active in their church and also had a special heart for widows and the elderly. Their home was always open to people who needed a good meal or an encouraging word. Mom and Dad cared for an uncle and aunt, as well as an elderly friend. Two grandchildren also lived with them for awhile, along with their father during a difficult time of his own.They also traveled overseas together to see other grandchildren (that would be our children) while we were living in Egypt and then in Tunisia. Then Mom was diagnosed with cancer and for the three years she endured that disease, Dad was right there for her. We were home the last year, and as hard as it was for all of us having to say goodbye to Mom, we were so touched by the sweet love they had through all of it. Dad would come twice more to see us, while we lived in Morocco, before he put his passport away.

Dad has always been a character. Until his health started flagging (having had two cancers and severe cardiac issues), he was remarkably strong for his age. He says it’s from all the hard work he did all his life, and I believe him. He loves the Atlanta Braves (especially the years of Chipper Jones) and Southern Gospel music (the Gaither’s, in particular). I have never beat him in checkers. In fact, the only one who I knew could beat him was Mom. We don’t play checkers any more because when his memory started dimming, I didn’t want to take the chance that I might win. It would be so wrong.

He LOVES his grandchildren and great-grands. Full stop.

Before his eyesight worsened, he read the Bible most days (studied his Sunday School lesson) and the newspaper every day. He loved to go out an eat – fried fish, okra, chicken livers (emphasis on fried) and hot dogs at The Varsity. He had coffee every morning and loved whatever anyone set before him (his favorite being a sausage egg biscuit from Martin’s). The servers all knew him at his favorite local restaurants, and it was fun just sitting across from him, as they came around to wait our table and just to talk. He preferred Ford pickup trucks and always wanted a red one (which would be his last vehicle but it wasn’t a Ford – I guess it was a great deal). He had a poster of a red Ford truck on his bedroom wall for as long as I can remember.

I wanted to write about Dad today because next week, he enters an assisted living facility. It’s a beautiful place, and I know he’ll enjoy the activities and extra company he will have there. Still it’s another season of this incredible life of his, and I want to mark this transition.

Would I rather him live with me? Absolutely. It wasn’t my call, but I know it’s a good call. All the family, his pastor, and friends will make it a good transition for him. He will make a place for himself there, and we will all come see him and tell the stories back to him that he’s told us all these long years.

I have a little of Dad’s mischief in me because one of the things I do that annoys my family is to take pictures of them when they’re napping. Just like we love to watch children sweetly sleeping, that’s what moves me to capture these images. There in the middle of all his loud family gathered happily for his 90th birthday, Dad nods off. Maybe because of all the cake he put away (did I mention his sweet tooth?)…but more so, I think he sleeps safe in the sweet company of those who love him.

Finally, I love his hands. He used to have rough, work-worn hands. Strong and capable. Now, they are soft…and not so strong. That doesn’t matter. They are still beautiful…and now we hold his hands, like he once held ours. How thankful we all are that he’s still with us…in this different season of life.

Should you see Dad one day, and you see this little, shuffling hard-of-hearing man who struggles with balance and memory and pain “somewhere or other, all the time”, don’t miss him. He’s had a large life…and is still living it.

Understanding Alzheimer’s in 3 Minutes (video)

Alzheimer’s Disease – Caregiver Advice by Marie Marley, Author of Come Back Early Today: A Memoir of Love, Alzheimer’s and Joy

5 Tips for Talking with a Person who has Alzheimer’s

Website for The Best Friends Approach to Alzheimer’s Care by Virginia Bell & David Troxell

Facebook Page for Best Friends Approach

The 36-Hour Day: A Family Guide to Caring for People Who Have Alzheimer Disease, Related Dementias, and Memory Loss by Nancy Mace & Peter Rabins

All Good Gifts, Faithfulness, Family, Friendship, Heaven, Inspired, Lives Full of God, Thanksgiving or Gratefulness, Walk with God

Tom’s Dad Is Going Home…and for the Rest of Us…the Hope of Finishing Strong

December 9, 2014 admindeb 2 Comments

For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. – the Apostle Paul in a letter to the Philippians; 1:21-23

Mr. Elliff is dying…or really, finally going Home, at 97 years young.

He is the father/father-in-law of our dear, dear friends Tom & Jeannie Elliff.

Tom describes this as only he can…don’t miss this brief story of a beloved father and a redeemed life – Dad is Going Home.

I never met Mr. Elliff but I know him through Tom’s stories of him. I also know more about the stewardship of whatever comes our way, again, through Tom’s stories. Not just through his stories, but through the lives of Tom and Jeannie.

When we think of someone dear dying, we think of others living with the prospect more real…as with a recurrent cancer. I saw my mom go through it in such a way that every day of her 3-year battle brought glory to God. That was all she wanted. There are others we love going gloriously through cancer and its treatment…by God’s grace and in the joy of the Lord…and we ourselves are changed. This is a picture of the God we love, who loves us more…this view of God in Tom & Jeannie Elliff’s life (life, not lives…because “if ever two were one”, then surely [they].*

“Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again.” – the Apostle Paul again – Philippians 1:24-26

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. – 2 Timothy 4:7

For us…for now…we remain…for there is still a race to be won.

Praying for you, Tom and Jeannie.

Tom Elliff Website & Blog

If Ever Two Were One – Puritan Poet Anne Bradstreet

Photo Credits – Jeannie Elliff & Family

Family, God, Home, Lessons Learned, Marriage, Transitions, Walk with God

30 Years Married – a Walk with God as Much as With Each Other

August 3, 2014 admindeb 4 Comments

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them. – Colossians 3:15-20

How can we be as young as we are and be married 30 years? Maybe we don’t seem so young to others…but these years seem to have zoomed by. The flight of years shows in our bodies and minds, but for us, it is most apparent in the launch of adult children into their own lives and marriages. Then…it comes back to just the two of us.

Our marriage has never been the stuff that draws much interest on Instagram or even Facebook. My husband and I married best friends. We were polar opposites in most ways, except our faith and being raised in Southern families. He was “read and follow directions” marrying “fly by the seat of her pants.” It was definitely a match made in Heaven because we would need the God of Heaven to keep us on course as we figured marriage out…both without and, later, with children.

I’ve often quoted Elisabeth Elliot on love and marriage. Two thoughts come to mind. She speaks of love as being a “laid-down life.” She also talks of marriage as being good for Christians to mature in their walk with God, because [in marriage] “there’s so much scope for sinning.” My husband has taught me a lot in both of these areas, and I, him – hopefully more on the lines of laying down our lives for each other, rather than the scope for sinning part…sigh.

Whatever these thirty years have produced with us together, the best of it has been 3 great young people (and the extra children who’ve joined our family through them, so far). Alongside of them is the unalterable way the Lord has knit us together, my husband and me, with each other and with Him.

I have no idea what is ahead, except for what is promised through God’s Word. Whatever is ahead, I am so grateful for what I’ve learned through this man who married me 30 years ago. He has given me a face of one who does not give up, of one who fights for what is right, of one who is tender toward the weak, of one who loves no matter what. I have been both the recipient of this and the one on his side as he extends himself to others.

Now, we are two again…as in the beginning of our relationship. Yet we are at a very different place. God has shown Himself to be ever-present in all these years of our lives. He’s given me exactly what I needed in this husband of mine – a man as true as steel in his walk with God and with his family. We count on him; he counts on God. Whatever happens out there in front of us…I have peace, on this eve of our 30th. anniversary that God will be there for each of us, to show us how to live…as He has in all these years thus far.

Through the Years – YouTube video of Kenny Rogers Ballad

Brad Hambrick – Great Marriage & Family Counselor – Helps Online

Sacred Marriage – What if God Designed Marriage to Make us Holy More Than to Make Us Happy – by Gary Thomas – Such a great book!

An example of Elisabeth Elliot’s counsel to one marrying – Always forgive.

Elisabeth Elliot Quotes

Family, Lessons Learned, Marriage, Walk with God, Workplace or Marketplace

Your Work Matters to God: Staying on Course Through Life’s Seasons

July 25, 2014 admindeb 1 Comment

Being a nurse was my ambition since childhood. I would wake up from dreams of helping at some accident scene or comforting a wounded soldier fresh from the battlefield. Those dreams, though wildly romantic at the time, actually preceded real life situations as time passed. Nursing became a platform for a career full of purpose and meaning. I completed my formal nursing education with a Master’s in Medical-Surgical Nursing, with a concentration in Cancer Nursing. My grand idea of going out and changing the world was rapidly unfolding.

Fast-forward to a decade later. Married and pregnant with our second child, I had my feet firmly planted in two worlds. One was nursing, and the other was being a wife and mom. We were living in a mid-sized town, and I was the clinical nursing specialist for a highly regarded cancer center. It was some of the most rewarding work of my life – to be a part of a great group of nurses and serving patients and families in intense situations. It was a consummately gratifying work season for me.

In fact, just as I was nearing the time of delivery of my little one, the president of the medical center called me in asked if I would consider being the director of the cancer center. It was an offer of a lifetime.

My husband did not think so. While I was intoxicated with all the feelings of approval and appreciation from that job offer (some of that could have been my pregnancy hormones), he helped me come to my senses. From the beginning of our marriage, we had worked out the values we wanted as a family. We would be judicious in our finances and he would work toward my being able to stay home with our children. I wanted this as much as he did…in the beginning. When we had our first child however, I was still so in love with my career that I managed to cajole him into agreeing with my continuing to work outside the home 20 hours a week.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love our daughter completely; I did with all my heart. Mothering and keeping a home, however, were much harder for me than any challenge I faced at work. One component of that was the whole team aspect of my workplace. We sorted out things together. I loved that. At home, far from our families, I felt very much alone with figuring out things, facing my inadequacies and insecurities at raising a child. In reality, God was always there; once I corrected my focus, I experienced Him there.

When we conceived our second child, my husband and I had re-visited our commitments to family. We had again decided that this time around I would stay home with our two precious ones. This time, I wasn’t going to look back. Then this job offer came along. My husband’s reply that I remember to this day was, “Ask him if he had a mother.”

So…I said no to that job, and yes to homemaking and fulltime mothering for the too short season it turned out to be. Not every woman reading this has had that opportunity, and I understand. What I came away with was two careers, both of which, once I embraced that each has its season, have been sources of great joy. Someone else can direct the business of a cancer center. I had the opportunity to mother our kiddos fulltime, and I’m thankful God gave me that season at home with them.

Family, Parenting, Walk with God

The Father I Never Knew – On Father’s Day

June 15, 2014 admindeb 6 Comments

I was five years old when my parents divorced. By the time I was six, my father was completely out of my life. Their divorce came after more than twelve years of marriage and four children. I won’t go into the reasons of why their marriage unraveled. Neither my mom or my dad are here to tell their side. In the mid-50’s when people divorced, there was no court-mandated child support. In our situation, Mom worked, and until she married again years later, we lived on what she was able to provide.

This is a picture of my father – Guy Anderson Stephens.

It’s the only one I have. In those years, pictures were taken regularly, even in poorer families. So why there are no pictures of my father, I cannot say. My Mom said he was a handsome man, charming. He grew up, one of three siblings, on a sizable farm and his family was well-respected in the community.

My mother, Mildred Jane Byrd, was beautiful and smart. She was the middle child of five. The only girl. Hers was a hard childhood with the Great Depression just one of the factors making her family poor. She had great dignity in the midst of her circumstances and continued so all her life. I love my mama and feel very grateful to be her daughter and friend. When she and my Dad married, she felt confident her hardest days were over. It was not to be so.

When my parents divorced, we became a family of 5. My Mom, my older brother, Robert, me, and my two younger brothers, Dwane and Wade. Wade (not in picture above) was just a baby when we drove away from the house that last day. This picture was taken later, not on that bewildering last day.

The picture above shows us with our grandmother and cousins in our uncle’s convertible. It’s possible he was as poor as we were, except for the car. I’m holding my youngest brother. Our older brother must have felt great responsibility toward us, with Mom working long hours. I think, too, he felt the loss of our father the most acutely.

For reasons we will never know, our father didn’t stay long in our lives. Some months after the divorce, he took us to a county fair. He bought a bear for me at one of the concessions because he wasn’t able to win it. Then there was the Christmas following – that one glorious, magical holiday when he brought presents and it seemed he would always be close. And then he never came back.

He attended our older brother’s high school graduation years later, but I didn’t see him. And that was that.

Once I learned how to write, I would send him letters (at his parents’ farm) – telling him the news of his children. For a couple of decades I wrote, imagining my letters helped him stay connected with us, maybe lessening his loneliness for his children. He never wrote back.

The last letter was to announce the birth of his first grandchild.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but after that, I didn’t write any more.

Years later, after many more births of grandbabies he would never know, I talked to him once on the phone. Someone told my mom that he was in a nursing home and not well. I called him, thinking we could visit together…one last time. As we talked briefly, he thought I was my mom. Too many years had separated us. I did not make that visit.

The funeral home leaflet said so little. It was sent in a note to my mother after the funeral. We did not go. His death seemed to have happened to some other family. He would be grieved by those who knew him. His parents and siblings and others – these were his family…strangely, we were not.

The longing to know my father and the rest of that family passed with the years apart. As far as we knew, he nor his family (original or remaining) ever tried to communicate with us over these more than 50 years. Until recently.

His last surviving sibling died this Spring. Aunt Pauline. And we have been tracked down, so to speak. Two weeks ago, I spoke for the first time in all these years to a cousin. She is the executor of Aunt Pauline’s estate and we are remembered in her will. I will meet her this week. She remembers meeting my Mom nearly 70 years ago, when my Dad was courting her She commented on how beautiful and tall she was. What a kindness this may turn out to be.

To finally close the gap on all those years of not knowing that family…my other family. It may be that I won’t really learn much about this father, but I am continually learning more about the Father I have in God. He has never left me. This is one of His countless tender mercies.

[From the leaflet from my father’s funeral]:

In the Digital Age, the Family Photo Album Fades Away