Month: July 2022

你好，我是美國人，我的名字是柯基犬，我很高興見到你

Last night our sweet princess got to fulfill one of her dreams. She met her favorite band in person downtown Minneapolis at the Armory. It was a sold-out concert, and she was able to be included in the before-concert activities.

She came home flying higher than a kite, happy, tons of photos, and dreaming of her fantastic experience.

While she was at the concert my niece took me to see “Emma” at the Guthrie Theater. We were just blocks away from the Armory, now a major concert venue.

It was my first time at the Guthrie Theater since it had moved to its new location. I know, I know! I’m late to the whole theater scene. There are several really well-heeled theaters in the Twin Cities. Back in my college days I tried to see a play or two each year, but since then I’ve only been to the Children’s Theater with home-schooling groups.

Theater isn’t my first interest. Music is.

I’m still glad I got to go to the play last night. It was clever, a mix of modern and historical —I loved the ’60’s “formals” that the actresses wore. Vintage fabric is my thing, for sure.

During the play I received a text message from my son that my grandson had made an appearance, freshly born, lots of dark hair, and the photo showed him crying healthfully. New life. Health. We are all grateful. Momma seems to be doing fine, too. This Omi is thrilled to pieces! (That is my “grandmother” name, German for granny.)

I started this post with Chinese, because that is where my mind has been this summer. As my dad’s condition worsens I have been spending most nights with him. We are grateful for quiet ones. My sleep has been affected, but I’m just grateful to be close by, able to help, and available.

I started a membership at a local CrossFit gym. As I maneuvered my dad around this past year I was dumbfounded at my own loss of strength. This had to stop. I needed to get stronger!

Even though I swim 3 times a week my strength was not what it was. Even now, after three gym sessions I can feel the strength returning! It’s interesting. I’ve been intermittent fasting for the last year, and I’ve lost so much weight, so I feel more confident swimming and working out at the gym. My heart isn’t as stressed. I can breathe easily going up stairs. Still, with the help of the trainer, I can tell that I am pushing my muscles in a good way.

Summer vibes: Chinese, strength-training, concerts—quiet.

I could live this way for awhile!

Minnesota weather has been idyllic this year, too. Dry, but perfect temps. It’s still super green here at Corgi Hollows. Ed harvested the first tomato, and the raspberries are a daily addition to our diet. The herbs are healthy also. Really healthy. We will see what comes from the ground at harvest time. Ed waters patiently every day. His Japanese garden sits in his imagination still, the stone lantern standing sentinel to the future lay-out. I’m sure it will happen eventually. Perhaps we’re waiting to visit a few more gardens—in Japan, for instance. Next spring?

I could live this way…

Take out the dark side of my life and it would be perfect. That doesn’t just disappear, though, as much as I’d like it to. It affects everything, and only through God’s grace am I still around to field the carnage.

Life is a balance of joy and lament, happiness and sadness, riches and poverty, winter and summer.

It’s summer here, and I am seeing sunshine today.

I could live this way for awhile!

你有美好的一天

Maranatha!

I coined this word seven years ago when Ed got leukemia. It seemed like such a description of what I was trying to do in our lives, building up inner strength for the fight against cancer. Since then we have gone through various hard things, and each time I think of that word. You won’t find it in the dictionary. I made it up.

These days I know that I am building walls, strengthening my place, finding reserves to manage my days. I’m fortressing again.

It’s hard to be rather raw inside and still find the energy to cope with a parent who is slowing fading from this world. Because I feel the depression and suffering I imagine that those around me are in the same place, dealing with the same losses and issues.

It’s hard.

I wrote about acceptance last time, and that is something that comes slowly. There are still things to process. My life hasn’t changed much outwardly, anyway.

I accept things. I grieve.

I went for a counseling session with my pastor this past week. He was so kind to me. I was encouraged to enter a time of lament.

Would you pray for me as I do that? I believe it is a spiritually vulnerable place, and I need your prayer protection as I begin this phase of my life.

I’m grateful for you, reader.

There are so many years when I don’t think about “half birthdays” but one of my best friend’s birthdays is a day off of my half one. We celebrated this year with lunch outside Ridgedale Mall in beautiful weather. July is nice in Minnesota.

We had a nice time catching up. She’s posed to travel soon, and I’m somewhat envious. I don’t have the all-clear for travel yet. I did get my passport this week. I had let it expire, accidentally. It came without fanfare, but it represents to me a new chapter in my life,

My Chinese studies are going smoothly. That’s about all I can handle these days with my dad’s condition, which continues to deteriorate.

I’m spending every possible night with him so my mom can sleep. I am tired. Exhausted, really. I’m still wide awake for most of the night—and day, for that matter. The nights I have at home with the pups are spent in dreamless slumber.

Caring for an aged parent is part of life. Most humans must reckon with this stage of life. I am almost 60, and I’ve been blessed with both parents and parents-in-law with above average health. This era came late for me.

I went from raising my five children to caring for my parents pretty smoothly. I am a care-giver.

The brief era in between I attempted to earn my master’s degree. I’m still not finished with it, but tantalizingly close. Trauma, tragedy, life troubles made the path temporarily impossible.

I am expecting a new grandson any day now.

My daughter-in-law is READY to have that boy! His sister is all cute and excited too. We’re all excited.

Milestones. Birthdays. Seasons of life.

I think I’ve finally reached the stage of acceptance in my grief journey. One really does go through those patterns of grief. It’s true. Lately I have felt less agitation, more peace about what happened to us. This is a good thing overall, I believe. I still deal with depression, but that is to be expected.

In acceptance lieth peace,—a phrase from the Mountains of Spices, by Hannah Hurnard. Through miscarriages, terrible things I have remembered this truth.

Peace will come when you resign from the fight, when you see the world as it is in the present and acknowledge that you must go on.

My life continues to morph as I go forward from my past. Yes, it is a huge change. I am not the same person I was. My roles have changed, my goals, my defining characteristics. I really am different. I accept this. I am becoming peaceful.

I am praying that I can be more servant-minded, cherishing the ones that God has given me, serving them.

I have been able to see my dad in a whole new light, as he sweetly conveys his desire to not be trouble for us caregivers. His faith is really shining right now. His trust in God the Father is on display for all of us. Yes, he is still human, gets irritated, frustrated—but the core of his being has obviously been one of trust in the Lord, and his faith is still crystal clear.

Listening to him pray at night before bed is a gift that I have been given in this hard time.

God numbers our days. What will that number be? Are you ready, like my dad, to see Jesus? Have you made that eternal transaction by putting your faith and trust in Him? Those of you who are on my “snatch list” are being prayed for DAILY! I want to see you in heaven!

I am still a prophecy watcher, despite my retreat into my own world of Eastern Asia and my new job, dealing with my new life. The signs are all here. Jesus is coming soon! Are you ready?

Perhaps today?

MARANATHA!

I’m up for at least two hours in the night these days. The darkness isn’t quite so black as the middle of winter. The sun goes down late, gets up early, and the sky has a lightish color even in the wee hours.

Outside the walls of the house nothing comforting seems to happen

Coyotes put up their choir practice at least once a night, owls hoot, blood curdling screeches are normal. We live in the country. This is nothing unusual.

I always try to get the cats in for the night. Topi is black and can camouflage at night, Gandalf is pure white, so I always try to locate him, lure him in before going to bed. I’m afraid he will glow in the starlight. (Predicate rarely leaves the house, so I don’t worry about her.)

Dogs wail response to the coyotes and the horn of the Burlington Northern that often rumbles by.

There are noises. It isn’t quiet. Frogs and crickets add their sounds, too.

My dad is declining. At night he seems more confused mentally than during the day. Because of this we are on duty, guarding against any confusion that may harm him.

Ed and I, or my mom and Ed stand guard, every night. Mom needs sleep badly, so I try to be there most nights lately. I have to work at the hotel on occasion, so that is a conflict.

This changes everything, again.

I’m used to change, though, aren’t I?

It isn’t as if I didn’t see this stage in my elderly parents coming. I’ve heard these stories from my friends for years.

But each passing is truly unique. There are equations that sum up our situation, one factor differential, that define our experience versus anyone else’s.

I don’t have Brian here to edit my math metaphor. He always edited my blog, you know. I felt such satisfaction when he made “no comment.” High praise.

My dad’s experience is probably very like and also very unlike others.’

We navigate these uncharted waters and in the quiet of my new wide-awake nights I think about all sorts of things.

The night that my husband died, I was staying in a hostel for rock climbers in New Hampshire. I remember being sleepless, staring at the sky through the screened window, a zillion thoughts racing through my mind. It was starry skies, mountains framing the constellations which I could recognize.

I hadn’t come to terms with Brian’s death. I could only pray that he’d miraculously wake up, or that I would wake up from this nightmare.

You know, neither of these things happened. I coped by reassuring myself that we’d be with Jesus soon—-He is coming soon. The darkness was full of so many possibilities and pleas for mercy, pleas for Christ’s return. It wasn’t quiet, at least in my mind.

Now it is different. I expect my dad’s decline, his passing. His heart is too weak to guarantee much more time. We are in a waiting time, not a panic. He has lived his 95 years well, and been a blessing to others.

He does get anxious as his mind refuses to function like he was accustomed. Dad is a very smart man. When smart people lose a sense of place it is more traumatic. I’m convinced of this. He abhorred alcohol his whole life, so he has only ever been “sober.” A keen mind unused to confusion or dullness, it is an entirely new experience.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, Dad”

What a relief that he acknowledges Jesus as his savior! The comfort and peace, the resting from fear that this thought and will can bring, even in a confused mind.

When I worked at the nursing home in town as a sixteen-year-old, thinking becoming an LPN would get me onto the mission field easily (it wouldn’t have!) I was able to see how the devil (prince of this world) takes advantage of weakening bodies and minds.

it shocked me at first, but I’m thankful for the explanation my mom (an RN) gave me about the devil’s malicious intent to lord it over the saints of the Lord in their weaknesses.

It inspired me to put good things, God things, wholesome things, righteous things into my gray matter, that the evil one would have little to work with when (IF) my body failed before my life expired.

Sudden death is not exactly the worst thing. Lingering death can be really difficult. Sudden death is a blessing to the one who dies, lingering death prepares those around much more.

But one must know Jesus. He is the sweetness of the night, the fragrance of a weakening life. His Spirit is the power that can make all the difference between fear and peace.

I’m tired. I can’t do much else than think about things lately. I’m feeling a bit worthless.

I know that I am here for such a time as this, though.

Personal plans are on hold.

Thank you for your prayers. Corgi Hollows is standing in the need of prayer.

Maranatha!