It's So Hard...

     I wake up and try to remember who you are. Your face seems familiar but I can't recall a name. I know I should know you, you remind me all the time who you are. I hate that I can't remember what you said. I smile at you because inside I am scared, but a mask must be better than the truth, right? It's so hard... son.
     I struggle to get you up and out of bed. I'm not as strong as I used to be. You seem to make it so difficult for me to help you. I try to not lash out in frustration after repeating myself for what seems the millionth time. As I lift with all my strength I remind myself to do it gently as your skin is so thin and fragile. You smile at me and I feel like you are doing this on purpose. It's so hard... dad.
​     I wish I could do more to help. I know my husband is not doing anything on purpose, it is simply the result of an aging brain, no, a regressing brain. I am afraid to ask you for help with my needs as I see how frustrated you are dealing with your father. I feel like the things I ask are simple and easy things you can help me with, but I have stopped asking for much because they must not be because if they were you wouldn't be so harsh with me. It's so hard... son.
     I am doing my best to do your "to do" list you have asked of me. I keep feeling like they are things you should be able to do. It is so annoying that you seem to not even try, or you seem to wait until the worst moment to ask. Don't you know I have a million other things to do and I am trying my best? So I say "yes" in a sharp tone, the kind of tone a parent uses towards their child. I make sure to huff and sigh so you know the burden it is. It's so hard... mom.
     
     

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     Lord, I am ready to come home to You. I have run my race and I feel like a burden to those around me. I want You to take me home and I worry I will forget who You are before You do. Why do You tarry with me? What purpose could I possibly have left here to do? People around me tell me I used to do all these amazing things, I wish they wouldn't lie like that and would just be honest that they would rather be anywhere else. They tell me their names and who they are to me and I to them, I just smile and say "I know" because I am too tired to tell them I truly don't remember. I am so frustrated when I wake up, that this body won't do what it used to do. Surely I used to be able to hold my balance, surely I was able to run, surely I was able to make my own meals, and the worst... surely I was able to go to the bathroom on my own. Yet once again I just smile because it is too uncomfortable and embarrassing to watch these people help me with that, especially the one that calls me dad. If I am the dad, then I should be taking care of him and not the other way around, so he can't be my son. Oh Lord, sometimes I get so frustrated with myself that I lash out to those trying to help. I don't like being told what to do like a child. A child doesn't have thin wrinkly skin like me, a child doesn't have to shuffle their feet just to walk, a child certainly isn't married, right? I no longer even know where I am, California perhaps, nothing looks familiar anymore except my wife. Help me Lord, help me to persevere well, it's so hard.
     Lord, I don't know how to do this. My husband has slipped away and been replaced with a large child. The one that used to protect me, I now have to dress, feed, help to the bathroom, and do the protecting. I wish he could reminisce about our life together once more. I wish he could be the strong man that I could weep on when in the valley. I lean on You Lord now because he is gone. How I ache, how alone I feel. The once large home I had that was full of a lifetime of memories, that had family coming and going all the time... it's long gone. Now all those things have been replaced with a foreign "apartment" that has only the remnant of what once was. I struggle with my son, whom I love dearly. Lord, I know he is struggling like me, seeing his father replaced with someone who doesn't know him has to be so painful. But Lord, I need his help and I hate to bother him as he gets so angry at me. I promise Lord I am not trying to be difficult, I am just trying to find joy in the smallest parts of an old life that remain. The Christmas decorations that give me memories of a happier time, a more youthful time, can't shouldn't bring on so much anger from him, right? I look in the mirror and wonder how long I have with my husband, part of me hopes not long and the other never wants to it come. Because no matter how alone I feel right now, when he is gone it will be worse. Help me Lord, help me to persevere well, it's so hard.
​     Lord, this is so hard! I want to be a good son to my mother and father, but it is emotionally and physically draining. Yet, even saying that brings on such feelings of guilt. Never in my life would I have thought "life will be so much easier when...". No, Lord, I should not go there. I am trying to be your faithful servant, but just like with my children, You gave no manual for how to take care of your parents. The ones that used to protect me and comfort me when I had a nightmare, the ones who drove me around to all the places I needed to go, the ones that cared for me in all ways, they are slipping away. Dad doesn't even know me anymore and it makes me sad and grieved which then makes me angry which then leads to me snapping at my mom when she asks a simple task of me. I should be doing this better, I should have a smile on my face as I give back to my parents for all the years of service they unconditionally gave me. Instead, I hurt and I cry for what once was. Even knowing it won't always be like this brings little comfort right now. Mom doesn't understand that I wish dad could remember our memories together. She forgets I am not just a caregiver, but that I am still a son, her son. She doesn't understand that I just want to sit down the two of us and talk. Talk about what once was and laugh, talk about what is and cry, talk about what's coming and grieve. But instead she just asked me to do another task and I can feel my temper rising. Help me Lord, help me to persevere well, it's so hard... learning how to say goodbye. 

It's Hard Learning To Stay Goodbye

     I am writing this as my dad is struggling to navigate the waters of aging parents. My Papa has dementia, so he can't remember his son any longer. My dad looks at him and he grieves. He grieves for his dad and the man he used to be. He grieves for the memories of better times, of laughter with his dad and brothers. Most of all he grieves for himself. More than anything he is scared of looking through this looking glass at who he may become. This leads him to lash out at his mom when she needs his help. His fear blinds him to God's calling on him to care for them. He doesn't realize he has walked this blind path before. Raising his children was a lot like caring for his aging parents. As parents we are walking blind with just a warm glow lighting up the next step to take, always worried we are the worst out there. I watch him struggle with himself over this, the spirit wanting to do the will of God and the flesh wanting it all to stop. I ache for his struggle and the desire to help. I watch and learn from what does that aligns with God and what would make God cry. One step in front of the other is all he can take, and in the end hope that he can stand before God and hear, "I am so proud of you for persevering well my son, I know that was so hard."
     I am writing this as my grandmama is struggling to live with a man that no longer holds any memories of their life together. He feels great comfort in her and her presence, but she now has to be the strong one. I see in her eyes, the heartache of what she is being asked to endure. To have a husband that acts more like a child at the age of three all the time is draining. So much has changed in her life in the past few years. She has let go of her family's home in Colorado, moved down here to a new house only to need to move again to a retirement home for the sake of my Papa. She said goodbye to being the host of parties, she said goodbye to the majority of the things that held memories of their life. I ache for her and want to help, but there are just some things there is no help for other than to hold a hand. I often wonder if I was given the future knowledge of my husband becoming like my Papa, would I have said "I do"? Good thing God knows better than to give us all that knowledge up front. I am so proud of her though, she still is able to find joy in the sorrow. She is able to trust God in this season despite how hard it is. With her eyes set on Him she waits patiently to hear, "You did it daughter. You stayed the course and finished well."
     I am writing this as my Papa forgets a little more everyday. My Papa is an amazing guy! He is in the Navy hall of fame for helping innovate the space shuttle, he has eaten scorpion and monkey brain in China, he had the coolest tractor to cut his field that he let us help drive. I could go on. But... he remembers none of this. He has even gotten angry thinking we are telling lies about him (even if they are good). And... he is scared. He once confided in me that he no longer knew where he was (he thought California). He pointed out to me all the things he didn't know while telling me he felt like a burden. He said he wanted to die because of feeling he was like this. It broke my heart. He is truly a lovable old man despite his dementia. He really does act like a 3 year old happy child, but there have been some more recent "tantrums" too. I can do one thing and one thing only for him, love him. I don't try to remind him of things anymore, I just sit there and love him. When he makes jokes a play along with it, because I know he's scared deep down. I know he is going home soon to our Lord. I know He won't let him forget who He is. I know I will see him someday with all aches and pains gone and a mind sharper than ever. I know God will say to him, "Well done my good and faithful servant."
     I write this to all children and spouses that are having to learn how to let go. To get ready to say goodbye even when you know it isn't forever. I write this because I am learning from my dad what to expect so when the time comes for me to get ready to say goodbye I can persevere well.