We can never plan enough or be prepared enough for the unexpected. But this month brought about some big changes around our farm; changes that demanded our immediate attention and haven’t allowed for much in the form of holiday fluff. Funny how when the extras are stripped away, and we are left with our family and faith, there is still life, hope and joy if we so choose.
The Grammy that I wrote about last month has been on a pretty steady decline since she came to live with us. We knew she was having trouble with her legs and balance. And we knew it was time to keep a closer eye on her and visit some doctors to see if they could help in some way.
We had planned long ago to have her live on our farm anyway, so last fall was as good a time as any to move her in. Having her here has been an amazing blessing and learning experience for our entire family. It's made the doctor visits more convenient, the card games more spontaneous and the ability to help her with daily living a whole lot easier.
Her diagnosis came over the summer; a degenerative brain disease of the frontal lobe. It affects movement, speech, facial expression, balance and spatial abilities. But it does not interfere with memory or the ability to understand all that is going on around you. No cure. No drugs to slow it down. No tools to make life easier; kind of like being a prisoner in your own body.
The Grammy has been a trooper though. Getting used to each new phase that comes and working with it as best she can. The last couple weeks have ushered in a new phase of the disease and required many adjustments for our family. She's been losing her balance, losing the ability to use her hands and experiencing pain that is off-the-charts. She’s been fighting for every step, hoping to make her hands work together, struggling to make her mouth form the words to express her needs, her feelings, her hopes and her simplest wishes.
Nothing has stayed the same for very long. Just when we think she's reached a plateau the next phase comes and steals away another ability that most of us take for granted; like buttoning a shirt or lifting a spoon to our mouth.
There is ONE THING, however. ONE THING has remained steady for The Grammy.
This ONE THING she can do; and has done every single morning for the last 40 plus years.
She can sit in the morning hours, with her Bible open on her lap. She can sit and have coffee with Jesus.
And now, the coffee no longer seems to matter as much. But this ONE THING sustains her. Gives her a reason to open her eyes each morning and press on; gives her something to look forward to for as long as she is here on earth; which means that in the midst of the crisis - she is merry.
The Grammy that I wrote about last month has been on a pretty steady decline since she came to live with us. We knew she was having trouble with her legs and balance. And we knew it was time to keep a closer eye on her and visit some doctors to see if they could help in some way.
We had planned long ago to have her live on our farm anyway, so last fall was as good a time as any to move her in. Having her here has been an amazing blessing and learning experience for our entire family. It's made the doctor visits more convenient, the card games more spontaneous and the ability to help her with daily living a whole lot easier.
Her diagnosis came over the summer; a degenerative brain disease of the frontal lobe. It affects movement, speech, facial expression, balance and spatial abilities. But it does not interfere with memory or the ability to understand all that is going on around you. No cure. No drugs to slow it down. No tools to make life easier; kind of like being a prisoner in your own body.
The Grammy has been a trooper though. Getting used to each new phase that comes and working with it as best she can. The last couple weeks have ushered in a new phase of the disease and required many adjustments for our family. She's been losing her balance, losing the ability to use her hands and experiencing pain that is off-the-charts. She’s been fighting for every step, hoping to make her hands work together, struggling to make her mouth form the words to express her needs, her feelings, her hopes and her simplest wishes.
Nothing has stayed the same for very long. Just when we think she's reached a plateau the next phase comes and steals away another ability that most of us take for granted; like buttoning a shirt or lifting a spoon to our mouth.
There is ONE THING, however. ONE THING has remained steady for The Grammy.
This ONE THING she can do; and has done every single morning for the last 40 plus years.
She can sit in the morning hours, with her Bible open on her lap. She can sit and have coffee with Jesus.
And now, the coffee no longer seems to matter as much. But this ONE THING sustains her. Gives her a reason to open her eyes each morning and press on; gives her something to look forward to for as long as she is here on earth; which means that in the midst of the crisis - she is merry.
