Family

Alzheimer’s is robbing me of my mother

/ edebock / 16 Comments

I originally started this blog to chronicle our travels when we moved to Japan to teach English for a year. For the past several years, our family has also been on a journey of a very different kind as we’ve watched my mother gradually spiral downward and disappear into the depths of Alzheimer’s disease but I haven’t felt at liberty to blog about it until now. Until recently, my father, who is a very private person and also Mom’s primary caregiver, has been one of my most faithful readers. Out of respect for him, I didn’t share our journey publicly but now that his very old computer has died and he’s discontinued his internet service, I feel free to write about it.

I still remember the summer visit several years ago when I first had an inkling that something was wrong. I mentioned one of Mom’s grandchildren and she had no idea who I was talking about. Her question, “Who’s Jessica?” was for me one of those life changing moments when my entire world seemed to shift on its axis. I lay awake at night wondering what the future would hold and experiencing for the first time a deep sense of anxiety that has become more and more familiar to me.

Over the ensuing years, the mother that I grew up with has disappeared and parent has gradually become child. It has been a fairly slow decline. Many times, Mom would seem to slip very noticeably and then plateau for a time giving us a chance to get used to the changes before more drastic ones surfaced. Unfortunately, Dad seemed to be in denial for the longest time making it impossible for us to discuss the situation with him or to be of much help. It’s only in the last year that Mom’s condition has been clearly identified as Alzheimer’s disease and that we’ve been able to talk about it openly. The situation is made worse by the fact that my sister, my younger brother and I live in Alberta while Mom and Dad are here in Vancouver. Only our older brother, mentally handicapped and himself living in care, and our oldest son Matthew are here at the coast. We really can’t saddle Matthew, in his second year of a law career, renovating a house and parenting two very young children with the responsibility of watching out for his elderly grandparents. He and Robin visit as often as they can and do their best to keep us informed of any changes or problems that they notice.

The blessing in all of this, if there is such a thing, is the fact that Mom’s decline didn’t begin until she was over 80. Dad retired at 59 and they spent the next two decades following their dreams and travelling the world. They visited over 60 countries spending more than a year in Europe and 9 months in Australia. (I come by my gypsy blood honestly!) They took their last big trip 8 years ago when they flew to the Dominican Republic to celebrate their 55th wedding anniversary.

For the past few years, it’s been a chore to get Mom to leave their apartment. Now, at 89 years old, she is incontinent, legally blind and confined to a wheelchair. Though these infirmities are fairly recent developments, in Mom’s mind she’s suffered from them for most of her life and she’s constantly coming up with fanciful explanations that are in no way grounded in reality. Last night she told us that people are trying to poison her with peanut butter which has always been a favourite of hers! Sometimes all we can do is laugh. It’s either that or cry. She’s clearly in the sixth of the seven clinical stages of Alzheimer’s and needs constant care and supervision.

After 63 years of marriage, Dad refuses to allow them to be separated and insists on caring for her himself. He’s clearly wearing out and we don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep this up but he’s of sound mind and has the right to live life the way he chooses. There are those who suggest that we, as a family, should try to force him to put Mom into care but we are firm believers in the fifth commandment and we know of no other way to honour our parents than to allow them to live out their final years the way they want to while being as supportive as we can given our own circumstances.

This, of course, means more frequent visits. This is our third trip to Vancouver this year and each of my siblings has also been here. When we’re here, we thoroughly clean the apartment, a job that Dad has a hard time keeping up with these days, and try to provide opportunities for him to get out and have a break. This week, he even went on a forest adventure with great grandson, Sam!

Having Matt, Robin, Sam and little Nate here in Vancouver is indeed a blessing at this time in our lives. Visits to Vancouver would be much more difficult if we didn’t have them to stay with some of the time and, of course, grandchildren provide such wonderful stress relief!

Mom with her youngest great grandchild, Nate, in March 2011

Focus, Confidence, Hi-Ya!

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Wikipedia defines writer’s block as a condition in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. The writer may be greatly distracted and feel he or she may have something that needs to be done beforehand, it goes on to explain.

That would be exactly why I haven’t blogged much lately! Not only have I been busy with all the usual Christmas preparations… shopping, wrapping, baking, and decorating… but I took on a bit too much at the church finding myself responsible for three events in a ten day period! Individually, none of them was too much to handle but three coming in such a short period of time at an already busy time of year created a lot of stress. When I flipped the calendar page over to December, I suddenly found myself waking up at odd hours and lying in bed worrying about details that still needed to be taken care of. More than once, I was at the kitchen table writing lists at 3:30 in the morning! As is so often the case, things looked much better in the light of day. Others stepped in to help and everything went without a hitch. Now I’m free to relax and enjoy the Christmas season.

One of the best things about Christmas is time with family. That started this week with a pre Christmas trip to Calgary to visit our daughter, Melaina, her husband, Aaron, and our grandchildren, Drew and Jami-Lee. On our way home today, we stopped in Red Deer for lunch with Richard’s sister, Sue, and some of her family. As her five-year-old grandson, Kale, told us about his tae kwon do lessons and pantomimed breaking a board, he repeated the mantra Focus, Confidence, Hi-Ya!

I couldn’t help thinking that that’s how I should approach life’s challenges! I’d add one crucial element, however. So, in the coming year, instead of lying awake and worrying when life gets stressful I plan to face my challenges with

Focus, Prayer, Confidence and a mighty Hi-Ya!

Thanks, Kale!

What influences your sense of self-worth?

/ edebock / 11 Comments

This post has been brewing for awhile. In fact, I started it once, discarded it and now I’m starting it again. Richard and I are doing a weekly Bible study with two other couples using Charles F. Stanley’s How to Reach Your Full Potential for God. One of last week’s questions resulted in some serious self examination.

What influences your sense of self-worth?

The study guide offered the following list of possible responses:

  • ___  entertainment
  • ___  relationships
  • ___  education
  • ___  hobbies
  • ___  goals
  • ___  possessions
  • ___  employment
  • ___  appearance
  • ___  service
  • ___  God
  • ___  other: ______________

I don’t have a problem with low self-esteem. In fact, I feel pretty darn good about myself. Many factors on this list contribute to that: healthy, affirming relationships; hobbies like writing and drama; and of course, my relationship with God, to name just a few.

At the bottom of the list, my “other” is my children. I am so proud of the fine young adults that they’ve become and it irks me when people say “You’re so lucky that your kids turned out so well”. I have news for you, folks! It isn’t luck! Parenting well is hard work. I know that there are no guarantees and even some of the best parents have troubled kids but I believe that I (we) did a great job and yes, knowing that definitely adds to my feelings of self-worth.

So why is it that something as superficial as appearance influences my sense of self-worth so strongly? The next question in the study guide asked “In what areas of life are you most likely to compare yourself to others?” and I had to admit to myself that for me it was appearance. I know that this is true of women in general but why? This question has led to a lot of soul searching on my part.

Donloree onstage

One of my favourite bloggers is figure competitor, Donloree Hoffman of Bikini or Bust. As I’ve followed her blog for the past year, I’ve come to the conclusion that I, too, am a figure competitor. Oh, I’ll never stand onstage in a spray tan and a bespangled bikini (too many stretch marks and scars from multiple abdominal surgeries make that an impossibility) but I compete with other women all the time. I’ve come to the realization that it’s not my hair, my make-up or my clothes that I look at when I’m comparing myself to others; it’s my body, my physique. I don’t look at a healthy, fit looking woman and think ‘I wish I looked like her’. In fact, I can truly appreciate and admire a well toned body. No, it’s the overweight, out of shape women that make me feel like a winner! How pathetic is that? I’m absolutely certain that this attitude doesn’t please my God, the one who created each one of us and who loves us just the way we are.

Twiggy

But why do I feel this way? I think there are many reasons. Our culture, of course, teaches young girls and women to value physical beauty above even good health. I grew up in the age of Twiggy, the emaciated looking fashion model of the 1960s. She became an instant sensation and suddenly, skinny was beautiful. In those days, my mom was overweight. She wasn’t obese but she definitely carried a few more pounds than she should have. “Just wait until you’ve had babies,” she’d tell me. “You’ll look like this too.” No, never, I vowed to myself! My father, who exercised regularly, often gave her a hard time about her weight. Is it any wonder that I grew up thinking that thin equalled beautiful? Then came marriage to a porn addict. Obviously I had to compete physically, or at least that’s what I told myself. Those are all things of the distant past now, but clearly they had a profound impact and helped shape who I am today.

So, what does all this soul searching and self-evaluation mean? Am I going to stop striving toward a better physical body? Absolutely not! There are many very good reasons to continue eating clean and exercising regularly. I believe that I am “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14). God has blessed me with a healthy body and I plan to do the best I can to keep it that way. I hope to live for another 30 years or more and I want them to be good years filled with action and adventure. Staying physically fit has so many benefits. No, that’s not something I’m about to change. I feel good and I like what I see in the mirror!  What I do hope to change is my attitude. From now on, I want to look at other women, even those who are obese and those who haven’t taken care of themselves, with compassion. I want to see the beauty that God sees in them and I don’t want my sense of self-worth to depend on them any longer.

So, now that I’ve bared my soul, let me ask what influences your sense of self-worth?

Adventures with Sam

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There are so many fun things that you can do with a two year old; things that might otherwise look quite silly for a woman of mature vintage. Sliding down playground slides, shuffling through coloured leaves, bouncing on a bouncy log across a forest path and crouching low to examine a grasshopper or a slug are just part of the fun when you’re on an adventure with Sam.

When harvest finished early this fall, we decided to make an unplanned trip to Vancouver to see the new house that Matt and Robin recently moved into. Built in the early 60’s, the house needed quite a bit of attention. Renovating with a two year old and an eight month old underfoot is an enormous challenge so entertaining the children has been one of the ways we’ve been able to help out a bit. That’s definitely not a hardship for this Gram and Grandpa!

Living on Vancouver’s North Shore, one is never far from nature. In fact, the forest is just a block and a half away from the new house so walks in the woods, along with throwing stones in the creek, have been great fun. There’s also a playground just across the street.

The weather has been much better than we expected which has made going on adventures truly enjoyable. One day was much too wet, however, so we visited an indoor playground at one of the malls.

On Saturday, the whole family went off on an adventure to the Pumpkin Patch at the local elementary school. Sam and Nate wore matching dinosaur costumes made by Mom.

We’re heading for home tomorrow so we went on our final adventure this morning; mini golf. As the son and grandson of avid golfers, Sam has been introduced to the game at a very early age. He even has his very own putter!

We’re going to miss our boys when we leave but we’ll be back and ready for more adventures at Christmas time!

Full circle

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In 1969, I was a grade 11 student at Argyle Secondary School in North Vancouver, BC. I was looking forward to graduating with my friends and heading off to UBC to study education. Those plans were dashed when my father accepted a job in Yellowknife, NWT and my parents refused to allow me to stay behind and spend my final year of high school living with my best friend’s family.

I had no intention of staying in Yellowknife any longer than I absolutely had to. I would return to the coast as soon as school was out and carry on with my plan to attend UBC. Life doesn’t always go according to plan, however, and I never did make it back to the coast to live.  Uprooted and rebellious, my life became a series of bad decisions culminating in an unhappy and short-lived marriage.

I did go to university and fulfill my dream of becoming a teacher but since I’d wasted the first year after high school, I decided to attend the University of Calgary where I could get the degree I wanted in four years instead of UBC where it would have taken five. Life went on. I settled on the Alberta prairie, married again and started a family.

Jump ahead about 30 years to 2006. That’s the year that our oldest son married, settled in Vancouver and entered law school at UBC. I hadn’t made it back to the coast but a whole generation later, Matthew had! He and Robin lived in a charming condo in Richmond until a couple of months ago when, having outgrown the condo by adding two adorable little grandsons to our family, they purchased a house and moved in. That house is located in North Vancouver just around the corner from Argyle Secondary School!

As I sit here in their livingroom, I feel as if I have finally come home! I gaze out the window across the creek that runs through their beautiful back yard and I see the roof of my school. I walk the streets that I walked as a teenager and, though many things have changed, they feel so very familiar. Life has come full circle and I am happy!

 

35 years!

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October 2, 1976

Today is our 35th wedding anniversary! 35! Wow! That’s a big number. How is it possible that that many years have passed by? Are we really old enough to have been married that long?

Apparently we are. All we have to do is look at our kids, all successful young adults, all of them now older than we were when we got married, to realize that yes, indeed, the time has flown.

35 years! Wow! Years of heartache, years of joy, years of work and now, years of play! We didn’t plan anything special for today but Richard’s card to me says Let’s do a winter holiday! That’s going to be our anniversary celebration and gift to one another. We haven’t decided where to go or exactly when but it will be somewhere warm with palm trees and sandy beaches and it will happen when the snow is deep on the ground here at home.

So do I have any words of wisdom about what it takes to keep a marriage going for 35 years? Not really. I do know that sometimes it’s hard work and I also know that having the Lord at the centre of our lives has been the cement that has kept us going and growing together.

When we were in Japan in February, our Valentine’s celebration included a beautiful marriage dinner at Hope Church. Each couple was given a laminated copy of twelve great marriage quotes that Pastor Steve had put together. When we were back in August, we saw them hanging in some of our friend’s homes. Ours has a permanent spot on the front of our fridge. I think they’re well worth sharing.

Great Marriage Quotes

  1. The more you invest in your marriage, the more valuable it becomes.
  2. Marriage is more than finding the right person. It is being the right person.
  3. In marriage, each partner is to be an encourager rather than a critic, a forgiver rather than a collector of hurts, an enabler rather than a reformer.
  4. Happy marriages begin when we marry the one we love, and they blossom when we love the one we marry. In other words, choose your love and love your choice.
  5. When love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece.
  6. A good marriage is the union of two good forgivers.
  7. Ultimately the bond of all companionship is communication.
  8. Be the president of each other’s fan clubs.
  9. What counts in making a happy marriage is not so much how compatible you are, but how you deal with your incompatibility.
  10. The first duty of love is to listen.
  11. When it comes to your marriage, if the grass looks greener somewhere else, it’s time to water your own yard.
  12. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through all circumstances.  1 Corinthians 3:7

What can I say?

/ edebock / 8 Comments

My heart is heavy today.

In July of 1982, our four-year-old daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. Initially, she responded well to the treatments and the disease was soon in remission. It didn’t last. On Oct. 5, my 30th birthday, we were told that she had relapsed. That led to an eight week stay in the children’s cancer ward at the University Hospital in Edmonton. Shortly after we arrived, I met another young couple from Sedgewick in the hospital corridor. Robie was a former student of mine and I knew her husband, Perry, vaguely. They were carrying their infant son, Brett, who was covered in bruises, a common symptom of leukemia. I still remember the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized that another child from our tiny town was suffering from the same terrible disease.

The next year was a long and difficult one for both our families. Early in June, Robie and Perry lost their beloved Brett just short of his second birthday. Our Janina followed three months later. Richard and I had three-year-old, Matthew, and our brand new daughter, Melaina, to keep us from completely falling to pieces but Robie and Perry’s arms were empty.

The following year joy revisited both families. On July 10, the day that would have been Janina’s sixth birthday, Robie gave birth to Brendyn Brett and exactly two weeks later, we were blessed by the birth of our adopted son, Nathan. Our boys were dedicated to the Lord in the same Sunday morning service with our pastor and Robie’s father, a retired United Church minister, both participating in the ceremony. Over the next few years, two more sons were added to Robie and Perry’s family. As time went by, our paths went in different directions and we didn’t maintain a close relationship but the bond of common loss remained.

Late the night before last, less than three weeks after the birth of his first child, Greyson Brett, 27-year-old Brendyn died in a tragic accident.

What can I say?

Losing a child is every parent’s worse nightmare. Losing a second one, unimaginable. As a child, our Matthew was severely asthmatic and medications weren’t what they are today. In the early days after his sister’s death, he was often very sick. I remember standing at his sister’s graveside railing at God and pleading that I would not have to put another of my children in the ground. I cannot begin to imagine the anguish that Robie and Perry are experiencing today.

What can I say? 

Today my Facebook status says “I can’t explain why God lets bad things happen but when hearts are hurting and life doesn’t make any sense, I still believe that there’s no road too difficult when we walk by His side.”

What more can I possibly say?

Never too old

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My 87 year old aunt lost her husband and lifelong hiking partner six years ago but that didn’t stop her. Hip replacement surgery following a fall in an icy crosswalk three and a half years ago slowed her down for awhile but it didn’t stop her either. She still loves to get out on the trails surrounding her home community of Jasper here in Alberta’s majestic Rocky Mountains.

We spent this afternoon hiking together. She doesn’t move as quickly as she once did but with walking poles in hand, she took the lead and set a steady pace. “Look at this!” she’d say as she named the various wildflowers beside the path and pointed out other interesting features along the way. At one point, we left the main trail to explore the remains of an old log cabin that she knew was hidden in the bush.

Sharing the trail with Auntie Norma and surrounded by mountains, sky, river and forest, it was truly a beautiful afternoon. The sky was overcast and the day was comfortably cool. A few spits of rain toward the end of our hike did nothing to dampen our spirits.

   

The only wildlife we encountered were birds and mosquitoes but there was no doubt that a bear had been that way sometime recently. I’m quite happy that we didn’t meet!

   

We hiked over four kilometres before returning to the car and coming back to town. I thought perhaps that would have worn Auntie Norma out but she’s as chipper as ever this evening. I definitely want to be her when I grow up!

Norman the tree

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When I finished working at the farm yesterday, I came home and planted the flower beds, an exercise in futility perhaps since we won’t be here most of the summer to take care of and enjoy them but I love getting my hands into the soil at this time of year and I want the place to look somewhat cared for while we’re gone.

We love our yard but it will never be the showcase that some people’s are. We don’t stay home long enough, especially in the summer! One of my favourite features of our yard is Norman the tree. Yes, unlike the rest of the trees and plants in the yard, this one has a name! It also has a story.

In the summer of 1994, we were returning from a trip to the Yukon and were somewhere near the BC/Yukon border when a wheel bearing went on the tent trailer that we were pulling. Richard jacked up the trailer, removed the wheel and he and Matthew drove back to Watson Lake, the closest community, to have the necessary repairs done. I waited by the road with Melaina and Nathan.

What does one do to entertain two ten year olds for almost three hours on a hot summer day in the middle of nowhere? Hiking into the bush was out of the question as I didn’t want us to get lost or eaten by bears so we were limited to the road allowance. We went for walks along the highway, endured the bugs, read, played cards, picked wild strawberries and built a fort using trees, sticks and our jackets.

Hundreds of tiny evergreen seedlings grew alongside the road. One of them was a perfect mini Christmas tree shape. Imagine Richard’s lack of enthusiasm when he returned hot and dusty only to discover that, in addition to putting the trailer back together, his wife wanted him to find the folding shovel that was buried beneath everything else in the back of the vehicle so that she could dig up a tree! I know that removing trees from crown land is probably not an entirely legal thing to do but I also know that the ones growing along the road allowance are mowed down from time to time to keep visibility clear for drivers. That perfect little tree wouldn’t survive if I didn’t rescue it! Being the patient husband that he is, Richard indulged this craziness and found the shovel. I dug up my tiny prize and temporarily housed it in the plastic garbage container that we carried in the vehicle. When we camped across the highway from the Liard River Hot Springs that evening, I planted it in an ice cream pail and there it stayed until we got home and it took up permanent residence in our backyard. In the 17 years that have passed, it has grown into a stately and still perfectly shaped tree. I remember waiting patiently for it to get big enough for its first string of Christmas lights and then, in no time, it grew so big that it was too difficult to bother stringing lights on it anymore.

The name was given by the children who were reading a hilarious book entitled The Plant That Ate Dirty Socks by Nancy McArthur that summer. Norman was one of the main characters. I resisted for a long time thinking that my brother, Norman, might be offended. I should have known better! He’s definitely not the kind of brother or uncle who would be upset by something like that. In fact, I think he quite likes the idea. Eventually even I began to call the tree Norman.

Richard isn’t as fond of Norman as I am. With his lower branches so close to the ground, he’s difficult to mow around. Richard has actually threatened to cut them off a time or two. I may not have been completely serious when I told him that that might lead to divorce but he hasn’t taken any chances! He also complains that I planted Norman too close to the house but his trunk is actually a full 12 feet from the back corner of the garage. Perhaps Richard’s lack of love for Norman goes all the way back to their rocky beginning on that frustrating day beside the highway but I think that that’s one of the reasons I’m so fond of Norman. After all, he’s not just a landscaping feature, he’s part of our family history!

Family resemblances

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We were blessed to have our daughter, Melaina, her husband, Aaron, and their two children here for each of the past two weekends. Melaina doesn’t get home very often so many of our long time friends and neighbours don’t really know her children. It was no surprise to us to hear “He looks just like Matthew” over and over again when people met three year old Drew. He does indeed look like his Uncle Matt, Melaina’s older brother and our oldest son. In fact, the first time Matthew met then one year old Drew, he picked him up, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Take a good look, Drew. This is what you’re going to look like in about 30 years!”

       

           Drew            and a young Uncle Matt

We also heard many people say “She looks just like her Mommy” when they saw one year old Jami-Lee. It was my sister who pointed out that she also looks a lot like I did as an infant. In reference to her children, Melaina likes to joke that we did such a good job that she decided to use the same designs!

      

Me                              Melaina                   and Jami-Lee

There are some family resemblances that are quite inexplicable though. Here’s our youngest son, Nathan, with my brother, Norman, back in 1985

and here they are now.

Nathan in blue & Norman in red

Do you see the resemblance? Perhaps it’s not particularly surprising unless you realize that Nathan is adopted! Though we know that there’s no biological relationship between the two of them, we’ve often teased Norman, asking him where he was back in the fall of 1983 when Nathan was conceived!

Though Nathan does look a lot like his Uncle Norman, he actually looks even more like his birth mom. Here’s a photo of them the first time they met.

So who do I look like? People always tell my sister and I that we look alike but we don’t see it. We’re the same height and colouring and similar in build but I guess we see our differences instead of our similarities. What do you think?

Linda and I