I have started this post a million times in my head and a few times on this blog. As I drove home from our Sunday school class Super Bowl party, I realized it was time. It's time to share my heart. Even if no one ever reads it but me, it is ok. It's cathartic and energizing to share where I've been and where I trust the Lord is leading as I learn the true meaning and significance of my God, God of the Angel Armies.
For all practical purposes, it has been over a year since I have blogged. I realized the other day that I have been avoiding my blog. Avoiding it because life has been anything but perfect over the last year to year and a half. Avoiding it because I felt like I was so far behind there was no way I would ever catch up. Avoiding it because it is one more thing in my list of things I cannot manage to accomplish which is yet another thing that makes me feel like a bad mom. Thinking about it in these ways makes me laugh at myself, and yet it also makes me praise the Lord for carrying me to today. I've been consumed in a battle, a battle of my heart, my emotions, my mind, my dreams and my reality. It's a battle that just yesterday during our amazing worship service about breaking free, I found myself telling the Lord, my God of the Angel Armies, that I am done fighting....
It has almost been a year...a year since we received the "official" diagnosis from my grandmother's doctor. Dementia, Alzheimers...whatever you want to call it...Death. Death to all that she has known. Death to life as we know it. After Mom's diagnosis, it was if life began to spiral out of control. Suddenly everything was different. She couldn't be left alone. She didn't know us any more. Just before she was officially diagnosed, mom got out of the house and fell in the street. A passersby found her and rang the doorbell. She was so pitiful. As I held her hand that day and gently cleaned her scratches, she looked at me and asked why would I ever do that for her when she had never done anything nice for me. Who knows who she thought I was that day. It didn't matter. I was finally able, in a small way, to begin giving back to her. Who cared that she may or may not remember that I knelt beside her that day. What mattered was that I knew.
I have been very blessed to always have had my grandparents as a BIG part of my life. Brian and Papa were fast friends from the first day that I brought him to Sunday lunch. I've decided that engineers stick together. My girls adore them. I've been pleasantly surprised and thankful at the ease that girls have developed since things went upside down. Annie has not skipped a beat. She and Mom have great conversations. One day a while back, Mom asked Annie who someone was. Annie's was response was that she didn't know. Mom replied, "Me either." I had to laugh because it was so sweet and such a blessing that the two of them can connect. In recent days, Mom has consistently known Ellie. I am grateful. Ellie carries her name, and I love the God has given them the ability to still talk about Ellie's art lessons and what Ellie is doing in school. Mollie is much more reserved. She will give Mom a hug, but she is not as much at ease as the other girls.
As we have learned to cope with this new reality, I have found myself longing for normal. I long to be able to call my mama on the phone without knowing that she is waiting with bated breath for caller ID to tell her who is on the other end. Wishing I could scream out, it's just me and not Mom. Our conversations are typically interrupted by Mom calling my mama and begging her to take her home.
Home? What is home? To Mom right now, home is where her Mama is. I can't even begin to count the number of times I have heard my mother tell Mom that her mother died many years ago. My dad is a bit more factual when she asks him. In a gentle way, he says, "Mrs. Miller, your mama died in 1953." (I think that is the right year, but I can't remember any more.) She is typically pacified for a while before the urge to go home overcomes her being. I've wondered so many times what it is about that time so many years ago that she longs for that makes it stand out in her mind. She talks about her little boy. She forgets that he is well into his 60's. I'm pretty sure she has no idea that she is 88 years old. I know that she is shocked some times when she realizes that Arthur, the man she loves and has been married to for 66 years, is now 88 as well.
I long for the days that our family can have a meal without the interruption of Mom having one of her fits, but that means she will be gone. I struggle with being ok with this. I find peace in the desire that I so want her to not be frightened and not hide in a closet for what seems like hours while her husband (my papa),her daughter, son-in-law and caretaker search frantically for her. I long for her to be safe in her Savior's arms and with her mama again.
No more fighting the desire for normal. I want my God of the Angel Armies to fight for our family and for Mom to be at peace. For the God of the Angel Armies goes before us and behind us to protect us and to lead us. What amazing comfort there is in this knowledge. I have been overwhelmed by it in the last few weeks.
No more fighting...
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