After Photos

 We did it!

Thanks to the able assistance of Christin and Heather, we were able to slay the monsters in my closet and restore order.

I couldn't bring myself to post any before photos, because, well...it was ugly.

There were boxes and boxes of papers that needed to be shredded. There were games and school supplies on the floor. There was laundry. Lots of things that shouldn't have been in my closet somehow came to consume my closet.

Look at it now!

We were only able to accomplish this work of art because Heather and Christin were patient and determined and spent a few hours with me while I sorted through things that they drug out of the closet. The hardest part was all the paper...items that each needed an individual decision about what to do with them. (And I still have a ton more paperwork to sort through on my desk! I'm doing that 15 minutes each day until it is done.)

I can now access my workout equipment, my craft supplies, the school supplies and all of my stamping collection.

I love it. I keep going in there and getting startled by how nice it is. I feel like I could live in my closet now!!

  

Monsters in the Closet

There are monsters in my closet. They are spilling out of boxes. They are falling off of shelves and hangers. They are lying on the floor. Life is full of messes, and my closet is one big mess.

That's going to change.

Two of my friends are coming over and helping me to tame the beasts. After that, no children allowed in my closet without my knowledge and permission. (Can you hear the "Yeah, right!" from your house?)

(sigh)

In a way, the closet (and my desk area) are reflective of my life at the moment...crammed so full, you almost can't fit anything else in. Indicative of a crazy schedule, too little sleep and the feeling of being completely overwhelmed. Full of things that need to be drug out into the light, dealt with and decided upon. Purging, trashing and donating in massive quantities are the order of the day, in all areas of my life.

Let it begin!

Called to Love

We have a few residents who will be passing away soon, and I've been thinking about what this calling means, to serve the elderly. Of course, in my many years of working with seniors, I've experienced a lot of loss. Some people ask me how I can stand to work with an age group that is so close to death. They ask, "Have you gotten used to it? Does it get easier?"

My answer is complicated. No surprise, right? Nothing is ever as straightforward as it seems. I fall in love with most of our elderly clients. A few just plain sweep me off of my feet. I feel called to love and serve these people with all of my heart, and it's easy for me to do just that. For as long as they are with me, whether that is days or weeks or months or years, I will do my very best to love them and meet their needs. It feels natural and is clearly a part of who I am as a person.

Of course, in my mind always is the knowledge that death is imminent for all of them. Well, really for all of us, right? But for our seniors, it seems closer and more real to most of the world. Truthfully, it never gets any easier to see families and individuals go through the pain and sorrow of physical death and saying their earthly goodbyes. My heart aches for them. I miss people when they die. (I still can't do my morning announcements or lead my exercise class without thinking of one of the most wonderful ladies I have ever met.)

Fortunately, though, I am blessed to know that all of this here on earth is part of God's plan for us. His plan of happiness contains a lot of sorrows, and earthly death is part of that sorrow. The sorrows and pains of this world are here as a result of this mortal sphere, and are tools God uses to refine us and make us better than we ever believed we could be. He created this world and placed us here to exercise our agency, to learn and to grow. Every part of this plan from his perspective is to "bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." In other words, to overcome sin and death so that all of us - his children - may live with him again in glory. If I look at death as a doorway (in the same way that birth is a doorway), and if I truly know who waits on the other side of that door, then death loses some of its sting and I can rejoice spiritually in the crossing of a soul, even as my mortal mind and heart mourn at the loss of these new (old) friends.

I think it's a bit like foster-parenting. I have the privilege of loving and caring for these individuals who may or may not have a support system. I provide physical, emotional, social and spiritual care while they are entrusted to me. Most of them like me or love me, and some of them tolerate me. I know going in to the deal that it's for a short time. Some of the people (many, in fact) have health issues that make caring for them a challenge at times, but under all of that is a person, with the richness and the layers of life clinging to them.

When death comes, it is an occasion with many attributes. Sorrow for the family and for myself. Relief for the individual who no longer suffers pain. Joy for the soul gone on to reunite with family and with God and our Savior. Knowledge that death is a doorway through which our physical bodies cannot fit. Excitement that this person I love gets to know and experience the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Confidence that every person will be resurrected and receive a perfected and glorified physical form. Peace that permeates my soul and lifts me as I go about the business of loving and caring for the next senior entrusted to my care.

For some, home is a place with walls and a roof where their family lives. For me, home is serving others. It is the place I feel most useful, most like myself, most like the person my Father in Heaven wants me to be, and it is the place where I am prepared to enter my Heavenly home. This place of serving my elderly friends, this place of transition and joy and sorrow...this is my home. No, it's not easy to say goodbye, and no, death doesn't get any easier. In fact, there are days when it seems more than I can bear. But then God through his Holy Spirit reminds me and cradles me, and I feel at peace. This is my calling...a calling of love. And with God, all things are possible.

Welcome back! Goodbye!

This afternoon Joseph and Laine returned from youth conference in Cambria. They apparently had a good time, if sun kissed faces are any indication. According to Joe, the dance at the beach was awesome, and he spent the whole time dancing. No surprise there! He also apparently danced with his younger sister, which I find to be really sweet.

This was Laine's first youth conference and she also had a great time. She was fairly happy and excited, and she enjoyed the dance, too.

My poor kids...I dragged them to Sacramento last Thursday evening. We returned late on Sunday evening. Joe and Laine packed up and went to Cambria early Monday morning and returned this afternoon, and this evening, I will be bringing them back to their dad's house where they will be getting on a train in the morning and heading to Sacramento again. It's been non-stop traveling for Laine and Joe!

Kelly didn't go to youth conference this year. She thinks she's too old, and of course, she doesn't want to miss any possible moment she can spend with her boyfriend. She won't be going back to Sacramento either, because she's stressing out about college starting next week and she feels overwhelmed. Fortunately, after 11 straight days of working, I will have Friday off and I am going to help her get things in order so she can be more at peace.

Life is full and busy here! Now if only I can get my laundry and kitchen under control!! Which I have absolutely NO desire to do. (sigh) Maybe after I drop the kids off at their dad's house...

Entrenched

One of the things I love about working with the elderly - have always loved about working with the elderly - is the glimpse into the hearts of families and individuals that it can offer.

When a family member seeks me out to share a story, ask for insight, or just to hear some reassurance, I am reminded of the hearts that are bound together through sorrow, joy and the tedium of life. And sometimes, I am granted the privilege of more than just a glimpse. I observe with a full heart the tenderness of a man with Alzheimer's who cannot remember much but surely remembers his wife as he gently takes her fussing, careworn fingers in his hand to kiss and caress and then hold her hand in his. I can't help but smile at a daughter who comes faithfully throughout the week as she tends to her father, and finishes her visits by looking him squarely in the face, telling him how much she loves him and showering his head with kisses.

I witness families gathering, celebrating the 98th, the 100th, the 101st birthdays of their loved ones, and taking joy in making memories together. I have been deeply privileged to serve families as they sit by the bedside of their loved ones as they prepare to depart this world. I am bound to these families in a deep and profound way.

And then there are those individuals who have little or no family to support them. Throughout my time working with seniors, these are the ones my heart can't resist. Yes, even the cranky, crotchety ones. I find joy and meaning in helping even those who are difficult to love.

At times like these, I feel my calling to work with, serve and love families and seniors as a tangible and valuable part of my role on earth. These moments exemplify the commandment to love one another, and they touch me deeply.

I am so grateful for the richness my life has been blessed with. I may not be wealthy in terms of money, but my bounty is overflowing with the blessings of service, and I am most grateful for it!

Educational Opportunities Abound

This week on Thursday, the kids and I packed up the car and drove to Sacramento. Actually, Kelly drove the whole way there (and back!) as part of her driver's education. She did a great job. The one incident that happened wasn't really her fault...there was part of a tire in our lane and she had no choice but to run over it. It beat up the guard under the front bumper and now I have a big plastic-y thing hanging down and dragging when I drive. If she had tried to avoid it, we would have had an accident, so she did the right thing.

I was signed up to take a class for my work to get certified as an activity leader. It was a three day course, beginning on Friday and continuing through Saturday and Sunday. While I enjoyed the class, I had forgotten how much I hate sitting still until I was forced to do it for three days straight. Ugh! And this was the first time for many, many years that I didn't get to go to church. I was very sad to miss sacrament, but Nick asked his bishop if he and Joe could administer the sacrament to me at home after my class, and he gave his approval. So right there, in Nick and Erin's little apartment, they blessed the sacrament, and my son Johnny passed it to me. I couldn't help shedding a few tears of happiness at this wonderful bit of grace!

I learned a lot of little details about being an activity director that will help me tremendously in my job, and I walked away with about 25 ideas from others about projects that can be done as part of our activity program. Some of them are great, some are near duplicates of what we already do, and others are mediocre. Nevertheless, any planning I don't have to do is welcome!!

I also signed up for two classes at Fresno City College...art classes! Since one of the types of therapy I am interested in doing is art therapy, I wanted to take some classes to help me along. I'm very excited! The classes will meet four nights a week, and even though I really want to take the classes, I'm already having anxiety about things like interrupting my temple schedule and how much gas it will take to get there. So we'll see if I stick it out!

FHE

Great family home evening tonight...the BBQ chicken tacos were a big hit (especially when accompanied by more garden fresh salsa!), then we ate ice cream and used Emily Christensen's writings on Jacob 5 to illuminate the first section of that very long chapter. Afterward we played a game on Kelly's iPhone (which for the record she paid for, not me!) called Heads Up and had a blast. Oh, and I forgot the sparkler fun in the driveway. 

Tough Love

My youngest daughter made an error in judgement that has resulted in a lot of tears on both of our parts. While communicating with a friend on Minecraft (a multiplayer on-line game) she gave him her personal cell phone number. Mind you, she has been admonished many, many times not to give out personal info, but justified it because she has played with him and talked with him through the game so many times.

I only just discovered it recently when I started to notice how secretive she was being with her phone, and how suddenly she carried it with her all the time. While at dinner Thursday, I had the distinct impression to ask her for her phone. When I took the phone and looked at the messages, I about died of a heart-attack. Messages from this supposedly 14 year old boy who theoretically lives in Baltimore, MD were filled with the "F" word and very graphic in nature. Hers in response were not. I told her I was shocked. She told me she really liked him, and according to his messages, he "f-ing" loved her. I asked her how she felt about his language and messages, and she told me he wants to change and be better. I asked her if she wanted to discontinue the relationship or if she wanted me to. She said she would deal with it.

Later that night, texts were still being exchanged back and forth, and I knew I would have to take action. After consulting with her father, we decided to change her phone number, block this young man from making contact on her phone, and temporarily block ALL messaging.

Needless to say this did not make me very popular with my sweet girl. She was FURIOUS. She refused to talk to me when I picked her up from her dad's house, and refused to go to church with me. She used the fact that Kelly refuses to go to support her argument, a fact which pained me to my core. I insisted that she go, knowing that the spirit at church could help her see reason. And sure enough, by the end of church, she was feeling better, but still not back to normal.

My heart was so heavy this morning. As a single parent, I am frequently confronted with my own inadequacies and failures, and this incident, combined with Kelly's complete lack of regard for anything spiritual, and all the stresses of parenting during summer vacation when the kids are home and I am not, lead me to a place of deep sadness. For a while, I was inconsolable. Church made me feel better, as it always does, but I am struggling with how to turn the ship around and keep our family heading in a positive direction.

Let's face it, if I get to the Celestial Kingdom (and that's a big IF), and my kids aren't there with me, I won't want to stay. Period. Everything I have done and do on a daily basis is focused on helping them grow up with faith and strength of character to sustain them so that we can all be together for ever.

Sometimes love is so tough, on so many fronts.

The slamming of a door

There are few things more expressive than the sound of slamming doors. Sometimes, it's the quick push of the door when hot children are dashing to be the first in the pool. Other times, it's the forceful explosion of anger between siblings too frustrated to communicate any other way. There's the quick flick of the door that indicates a desire for privacy. And there's the house rattling slam that follows an all out fight.

I used the slamming of doors when I was young only rarely. I knew what kind of consequence might and often did follow that kind of demonstration. Instead, I would merely envision slamming the door in great detail in my mind's eye, often including details like someone getting a rather severe nosebleed from close contact with my fearsome door slamming skills.

As it turned out, I became quite the door slammer with those around me. Purely figuratively speaking of course. Having been blessed with the gift of loving others easily, and even loving others too much, I was too vulnerable. And I experienced all too often that those I loved had great power to hurt me in every possible way. It was a defense mechanism I employed when I felt that someone was getting a little too close, that I had let my boundaries slip a little too far. It protected me from letting others see how afraid, sad, vulnerable and broken I was.

Sad to say, but I haven't outgrown this tendency. I look at someone's behavior and see a threat of harm and WHAM! There goes the door. In an unguarded moment, I realize I love someone who may not love me back and with a quick flip of my mental wrist, I hide behind my slammed door. I let someone know details about me and my life that I still haven't become comfortable with, and there's a high probability that the door will close hard and fast.

On the surface at least, I still love and interact and tease. But the walls are up and the door is firmly closed, perhaps even locked. I've tried with all my might to overcome this tendency. I have prayed about it often. In fact, the Lord has made it clear to me from time to time that I must trust and allow certain others into the grimy corners of my heart and soul. Sometimes these make sense to me...like my counselor, doctor, bishops, visiting teachers, and so forth. With these individuals, I find myself disclosing what I must and watching for the first signs of danger, even when I know they have proven themselves trustworthy in the past.

There are others though that I feel directed to share things with that I don't understand. When I am rebuffed or hurt by these individuals, and the Lord continues to encourage me to be vulnerable, I feel panic stricken. I try to be obedient. I try to put my trust in him instead of in people, who nearly always let me down. I beg him to help me see these individuals as he sees them so that I can take courage. And he HAS blessed me with the ability to see the potential of people, a blessing that has proven to be both a blessing as well as a curse.

Suffice it to say that I find myself trying to decide whether or not to slam a few doors. At a time when I am feeling extra lonely (it has been 9 years of being alone!), and when my emotions are being stirred up everyday by the growing pangs of my family and my work, I find the absence of people in my life to be a stark reminder of exactly how isolating the slamming of doors can be.

Two bits of sad news

I'm feeling a little sad on this Thursday night. Today when I arrived at work, I was told a senior gentleman who I had become close to had passed away. I was relieved that he was no longer suffering, and happy that he's on the other side of mortality, but so sad, too. He was one of those people that I had instantly hit it off with. He jokingly called me Cavanaugh every time he saw me, and always had wonderful things to say. I visited with him every chance I could, basking in his sense of humor, his kindness and his warmth. I met several of his wonderful adult children and I introduced mine to him. When he met my children, he told them such wonderful things about me and made me blush with his comments. I will surely miss his wit and his outstretched hands.

I also learned today that a young girl, the niece of a friend of mine, who has been battling cancer was today declared terminal. They will be trying one last round of treatment, but are now facing the hard reality of saying goodbye.

I'll be saying some extra prayers for these families who are experiencing grief and pain. :(