Discerning

Daughter got off the bus and greeted me quite cheerfully this afternoon. She has a new purse she'd won at bingo, and informed me everything fit in it (her blood sugar monitor and related supplies). She was excited as she told me about the decaffeinated ice tea Super Supervisor made today. She complained about the fact that the AC didn't work and it was hot in the gift shop. Then she told me she'd had a headache and hadn't felt good all day and spent the entire day crying. The next thing I knew she was holding her head and sobbing hysterically because she was in so much pain.

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I pondered the possibilities. After she left this morning, I discovered she hadn't taken her morning pills. I considered taking them to her, but didn't have time before a meeting I had 60 miles from here. I decided that as long as she didn't remember she'd forgotten them, she'd be fine. Could the missed pills be causing her problem? I was pretty sure she'd had a good day, since she hadn't felt the need to call me. I was confident she hadn't spent the entire day crying since no one else had called me. While I was pretty confident that she hadn't been sick all day, I was alarmed at her level of distress. What if she was having a stroke? Which ER would be best equipped to handle her? The two that are within 15 miles of us might not be equipped to deal with whatever was going on and transfer her. Maybe I should head directly to the best equipped one that was 25 miles away.

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I had her come sit next to me and put my arm around her, offering reassurances and soothing her. She began rocking back and forth as she held her head and sobbed. I suggested she had some big feelings she needed to talk about. She insisted that she was just very sick and had been all day. I got out the monitor to check her blood pressure. Her arm was shaking, and I wondered if I'd get an accurate reading. I told her she needed to calm down and hold still. She stopped crying and sat still. Her blood pressure was a little high for her, but not alarming. I told her she was okay. She got up and went to the bathroom. She came back and was still calm. I suggested she go up to her room and rest for 30 minutes. I pointed out how nice it would be to do so since her bed was properly made and dry. She quietly headed to her bedroom. This time I made the right call. My ongoing fear is that one day I won't, and by the time I get her medical help, it will be too late.

A Memory from the Early Years

Daughter went with me to various meetings and events in the evenings. As we'd drive home, she would often fall asleep in the car. I remember a number of drives spent trying to keep her from falling asleep in the car. I'd reach into the back seat and pinch her toes. I'd work at engaging her in conversation (which was hard, as she wasn't really verbal until she was 5 or so).

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If she fell asleep in the car, it was impossible to get her into the house and into bed without waking her up because she was such a light sleeper. If she'd been asleep and woke up, she'd rage. Sometimes it would take over an hour to get her to settle back down and go to sleep. Bedtime was hard on her, because she was afraid. She'd been molested and abused in her bed, so her bedroom was not a safe place. If she stayed awake in the car, she would be so tired she would fall asleep easily. If she fell asleep, she'd have had just enough sleep that she was terrified and had a difficult time overcoming the sleep and was terrified.

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One major piece of progress: she is no longer afraid of her bedroom. I suspect though, that the recent spat of bed wetting was related to those fears/memories. Bed wetting is protective, because it is repulsive. When she's working through the trauma again, the bed wetting returns. Therapist told me last night that young adulthood is another developmental stage when the trauma is revisited and reprocessed. She is dry this morning. She jumped up and down with joy when I told her she could fill in a box on her chart. Then I got a happy dance. I'm smiling.

A Deep Longing

The temperature has been close to 90 the last 2 days. I don't do well with heat. Today I broke down and turned on the air conditioning. The walls on our brick home are so thick that it is slower heating up and cooling down. It's been hot sleeping the last couple of nights. Hopefully tonight will be better.

Daughter turned things around nicely today, and was very cooperative and helpful. She decided to clean out her closet, and called me up to see the clothes she wanted to donate. Of course, they were all things she'd worn within the last month. I suggested a better idea would be to put them in the guest room closet until fall. She was quite agreeable.

The other day I looked at some vacation pictures from last year. We like to camp in the northern woods. I felt a deep longing, almost an ache, to go back there. Camping allows me to step back and see things in new ways. As long as Daughter is wetting the bed every night, however, I'm not going to take her tent camping. She wet the bed one night last year. We spent the entire morning in a hot laundromat. I'm not going to do that every day. I'm hoping she'll stop soon and I can make reservations at the state park. I need to get out in the woods. I need to get out in the woods where the temperature isn't 90.

Regrouping

Daughter didn't leave her message with the right person, so the bus didn't come get her today. We both had meltdowns, but then came the time to regroup. I went into the kitchen and began doing her chores. She sat on the steps feeling tortured for a while, and then came out and took over unloading the dishwasher. She began anticipating needs and doing them. She told me she felt stupid and hated herself. I told her to learn from it. She said she couldn't. I told her I had confidence in her ability to learn.

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She continued to work while I took my shower, and finally figured out what was going on. "Daughter, I need to talk to you."

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"Uh-oh."

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"When you earn 180 points, that doesn't mean you have to get a job and I'm kicking you out of the house. It means that you will be able to get a job. You will have the freedom to do that, and other freedoms as well. I'm not kicking you out or making you get a job. That's your decision. Were you worried about that?"

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"Yes! Why do you think I've been acting this way. I just couldn't tell you."

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"What happens when you use your words?"

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"It gets better."

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"You could have saved us both a lot of pain if you'd just talked to me about it."

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It's getting harder to convince myself she can learn. Back in January I decided that this Sunday I'd be preaching on the power of hope. Have I ever mentioned how often I end up preaching to myself?

Counterproductive

Sometimes I find myself pondering whether or not my efforts with Daughter are counterproductive. Psychiatrist pointed out Monday that she seeks out drama. I have been limiting the opportunities for drama, and sometimes I think it just makes her more creative in her search for it.

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Sunday she informed me that she'd wanted very badly to have a low blood sugar during worship. I patted myself on the back for keeping the insulin locked away from her. I also have door alarms on all the pantry doors. I currently have possession of her cell phone, and I've limited her time at the workshop. It's getting harder for her to find drama.

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She stops drinking and when I'm busy working on the newsletter informs me she has a UTI. This morning she got up, growled, "sorry" at me, and then announced she was going to the gift shop today instead of staying home to help with the senior luncheon. I haven't said anything yet. I'll have to at some point. I'll have to get her insulin and pills. It's frustrating, because to keep her alive I have to do things for her, no matter how hateful she's been to me.

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One of the things that led to last night's problems was my discovery that everything she'd told me had been a lie. She'd wet the bed. She hadn't cleaned out the litter boxes. She hadn't cleaned her bedroom and picked the clothes off her closet floor. The only thing she had been successful at was lying. Of course, telling me the lies and waiting for me to discover the truth was a way to create drama. Last night she won. I lost my cool. Despite my best efforts, she found a way to create drama. Like I said, there are times when I find myself wondering if all my efforts are counterproductive.

Less than 24 Hours

That's how long the new plan worked.
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As of this evening, I don't understand her, don't care about her, and won't let her get a life. I've never been her mom. She's going to go back with her birth parents where she belongs. Apparently, though, she's going by way of her bedroom, to which she has now retreated.

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Part of the fault is mine. I have been fighting heartburn for a couple of weeks. The medication is not eliminating it. Today I realized it had gotten bad enough that I needed to do something new. I have an appointment with my doctor for next Wednesday. All I had for supper tonight was toast, and then I headed back over to the church to finish the newsletter. People weren't cooperating in providing the needed information (at one point I made 7 phone calls without being able to get the confirmation I needed). We had decided this morning to have the newsletter cover July as well as June. I worked on the newsletter all day. I thought it was done. It all fit and was perfect. Then Secretary realized we needed to add the July birthdays and anniversaries. The rest of the week is crazy enough that it really needed to be done tonight. To say that I wasn't real patient would be an understatement.

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Anyway, I did not respond well when she whispered in my ear that she has a UTI. I give her cranberry capsules daily to prevent UTI's, but she has decided this week that she isn't going to drink anything. She's been trying to make herself sick all week. Does she really have a UTI? Maybe. Do I have 45 minutes to go to town to get a test to confirm a UTI? No. Do I have 2 hours to take her to the doctor? No.

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It's not like she hasn't had attention. I set aside time for her when she got off the bus. I heard about her day, admired the hair clip she'd decorated, and let her snuggle into my shoulder for about 45 minutes.

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The newsletter went to print without the confirmation I was seeking. I have sent it out to our email list, and Secretary and her boys are stapling and addressing the rest of them. It's hot here, so my ankles and feet are very swollen. My knee and my stomach are hurting. Daughter is up in her room pouting. I just got a message that Daughter posted on facebook that she was running away. Just another quiet evening in the parsonage in Tiny Village.

A New Plan

Yesterday I came up with a new plan to give Daughter the visual reminders she needs. I took a poster board and a poster frame and talked again about the things she needs to be able to do to achieve her goals. The first goal we set was for community employment. I came up with a list of 6 things she needs to master to be successful in a job.

1. Keep her bedroom and closet clean (can't take shortcuts or hide undone work)


2. Take care of the clean laundry (again, no shortcuts or hiding)


3. Handle verbal instructions (she prefers things written down, and if I verbally tell her more than 1 task she protests that I'm piling on her and she can't handle it).


4. Pick up the pace of her work when asked (she slows down when told to speed up)


5. Work through pain (she regularly complains of physical ailments to get out of work. I don't think the ailments are real, they are just an excuse.)


6. Stay dry (Sunday she wet herself through the day.)

I told her that she needs to do all of those things for 30 days straight. I made a chart with boxes for each day and each task. When she fills 30 boxes, I'll take her out for ice cream. I put in rewards every 30 boxes, and at 180 boxes I'll help her get a job.

Several interesting things came out of all of this.

1. She was amazed that I'd actually help her get a real job. I was surprised to realize that she thinks I'm holding her back.


2. She was quite confident that she'd be able to do these things, and didn't question the need for a single one.


3. She knows how to stop wetting the bed. My sisters have urged me to take her to the doctor to check for physical issues. I keep telling them there is no medical reason for this. Daughter confirmed that. "I just need to listen to Kitten. She knows when I'm going to wet the bed and tries to make me wake up. She knows because I get restless."

In the past she'd mentioned that Kitten doesn't like it when she wets the bed, but this was the first I heard that Kitten tries to get her up. She was dry this morning. Do I think she'll be able to do all those things for 30 days? Not really. But that's okay. If she does, I am figuring out what we can do about employment. I put it in a poster frame for several reasons:

1. It will be harder for her to destroy when she gets frustrated with it.


2. We can use a dry erase marker to track her progress. It will be easy to erase and start over when she blows it.


3. It is a concrete visual reminder. The goal of community employment is at the top. The tasks and rewards are listed. She decorated it, so she was involved.

Will it work? It gives me something to point to when she wants to move out or adopt a kid. I can remind her that first she needs to be able to hold down a job, and to hold down a job, she needs to be able to do those things. If it keeps her motivated for several days at a time, it will be worth it. Last night she folded the whites properly without complaining, a first. This morning she was dry. If that happens several times a week, it will be worth the time and money.

Bid My Anxious Fears Subside...

Today was my day off, but after looking at my schedule for this week, I decided if I was going to take shut-in communion to the one nursing home, it was going to have to be today. I arranged for someone to meet me there today at 12:30 (her lunch hour). When I got there, L wasn't there. It turns out she had forgotten. I visited with the first woman, and then went down the hall to see the married couple. I love this couple. Five years ago I walked into the OR waiting room on a Saturday evening as the house manager was telling Wife that Husband had coded on the table. They were doing CPR, but it didn't look good. What I remember of that night is her calm acceptance of what was going on. "We've had a good life together." I remember her strength. She had refused to worry her sons by telling them what was going on. She told me to leave so I'd be ready for the Easter festivities in the morning, and she could drive home on her own. I refused to leave, knowing she wasn't supposed to drive after dark. I stayed with her, called their son, arranged for someone to come get her car, and after we saw him in ICU, I took her home. We both remember my arrival at precisely that moment as a gift from God.

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They've been married for over 65 years. He was a POW in WWII. He never went home after that night 5 years, but has been in a nursing home. He is content there, reading his mysteries and enjoying visitors. Several years ago she decided that she didn't want to be alone anymore and moved in with him. When I walked into see them today, Wife was alone. They took Husband to the hospital yesterday. They think he may have had a mild stroke. He has been failing the past few months. She has recognized it and whispered it to me when I've gone to see them. Today I pulled up a chair and sat down to visit with her. We remembered that night 5 years ago. She thought she'd said stupid things. I didn't remember those things, and told her my memory was of her strength and peace.

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Then she told me a story. When her boys were in little league, Husband was coach. They'd traveled some distance for a game, and she got sick with food poisoning. She was in the hospital and almost died. She remembered floating out of her body and then down a long tunnel of white. She came out and was on the edge of a river. On the other side, she could see Jesus waiting with open arms. She said, "No, I'm not ready. I have to go back for my children." Then she was back in her body. Her husband had a similar experience the night his heart stopped. Now I understand why they can face death with such peace.

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We talked about the stress of watching him slip away, and how it was exhausting. But again, what struck me was her peace. We were able to talk in ways we wouldn't have been able to talk if Husband had been there. I left and went up to the hospital. Husband's face lit up when he saw me. He told me that he wasn't sure what had happened, but he supposed they'd ship him back to the nursing home if they decided he was still among the living. His concern was for Wife. He didn't want her worry about him. I assured him she was okay. After a brief visit I prayed with him and left. Once I got to the car, I made two phone calls. I called Wife to tell her he was in good spirits and had his sense of humor. I called and left a message for the woman who had forgotten we had communion scheduled. I told her not to worry, it had been the Holy Spirit at work, and her absence had made possible a wonderful conversation with Wife.

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The hymn in the video is a favorite in this congregation, and Wife's story reminded me of the third verse, "When I tread the verge of Jordan bid my anxious fears subside...." It is such an honor to be present with families as they deal with issues of life and death. I am so blessed to be able to serve as a pastor to these people. I didn't work on my day off, I received a gift.

Graduation Season

We had our first graduation open house of the year today. This year we will attend 5 of them. These kids were all preschoolers when I arrived here in Tiny Village. It's hard to believe that they are now graduating from high school. Around here graduation is a really big thing. For two of the five this year they will be in barns. They move the equipment out, pressure wash the floor, rent some tables and put out a feast. We were at the one tonight for a couple of hours, just sitting and talking. It got hot today, but it was cool in the barn. They had good food, and of course all the church people were there. It was an older crowd today. The graduate is developmentally handicapped and painfully shy. My goal is to get her to say one word to me anytime I see her. The past few weeks I've been asking her what the countdown is until she graduates.

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Her brother was saying she was really going to miss youth group-- that it's all she talks about at home. I'm glad she's enjoyed it so much. She never says anything at youth group, but she is always there, taking it in and smiling. As I've said before, we have a great group of kids, and they are so patient and loving with all of our special needs kids. It's wonderful to see the way they take care of them. The adult I work with on youth group told her she could keep coming next year. It will be interesting to see if she actually does.

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Daughter was running around talking to different people at the open house. Again, they are all so good to her. At one point she was ready to leave, but then she saw some people come in she wanted to talk to, and she was off to visit them. Next weekend we have open houses on Friday and Saturday, and then graduation is on Sunday. One of my kids will be giving a speech as salutatorian, so if it's not too hot, we'll go. This year they have a big class-- 67 are graduating. I suspect that means that graduation will last a little longer than usual. Two of the kids who are graduating this year were real challenges when they were young and I was working with them in an after school program we had. Both have grown up into fine young men.

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It has been such a blessing, watching these kids grow up. Have I mentioned lately that I love my job?

Trauma and Grace

In the podcasts I've been listening to this week, I heard an interview with Serene Jones, president of Union Theological Seminary in New York. She has written a book called Trauma and Grace, and I've become intrigued by it. I've listened to a lecture she gave about it. I've ordered the book. I'm trying to make sense of it and figure out how it connects with Daughter and some of her current struggles. I am certain that it will help me understand some of what is going on in our world today as well. I'm hungering for more of her analysis on this, and am looking forward to getting my hands on the book.

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I read Trauma and Recovery a number of years ago, and I know it spoke powerfully to me and helped me understand Daughter. I may need to dig that book out again, as well. I need a better understanding of what I need to do to help her move beyond her current stuck point.

"Stressed"

Daughter keeps telling me she has too much stress. She's vague when I ask her to identify the stress, though she does mention the fact that Sub will be at the gift shop while Super Supervisor is out. This evening I figured it out. Flasher hasn't responded to her friend request on facebook. She acknowledged that she got on facebook to make contact with him. I suggested that she just cancel the request. She just let me do it for her.

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She so desperately wants to be normal, and having a boyfriend seems like the quickest way to accomplish that. It would be nice if I could get her completely out of the workshop culture. I'm going to see if I can come up with some sort of visual to remind her of the things she needs to accomplish to achieve her goals. Maybe if she can see it, she will remember what it is she wants and what she needs to do to get there. Then again, maybe it will just stress her out more.

The Sub

Daughter was being difficult this morning. I finally asked her what was wrong. "Sub."
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Super Supervisor took her aside yesterday and told her that Sub would be there 7 of the next 10 days. Daughter was upset because she said SS didn't get it. I explained to her that SS had known Sub for many years, and knew she was a good person and trusted her, so it was hard for her to understand why Daughter doesn't trust her. I explained that Sub hadn't known that Daughter is allowed to call me anytime, but now she does. I suggested Daughter needs to give her another chance to prove she can be trusted. Hopefully Sub will do better the next time Daughter tests her.

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She wet the bed last night. Of course, she went to bed mad, so I'm not surprised she wet the bed. She wanted me to take her horse back riding today if she was dry. Never mind that I'm not aware of anyplace that she could do that, we should just stop by the home of some people with horses and they'll let her ride, no questions asked. I'm so mean and unreasonable.

Facebook Update

Daughter knew how to get on facebook, but she apparently isn't capable of remembering the password. She keeps creating new email accounts for the same reason. Ah yes, the disconnects.

Two Calls

Daughter called me twice today. She talked to Case Manager in the morning, and they investigated and found out that most people had heard nothing of the "rumor" about the rape and pregnancy. Daughter was wearing a dress yesterday that some might have taken as a maternity dress-- I'm wondering if that prompted speculation from a few people and led to the rumor.

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This afternoon she called, crying. She wanted to do something fun tonight. At first she said she didn't know what was wrong, but then she told me she was dreading going back to the workshop and waiting for the bus home. We talked about ways to make that time easier, and I promised her something fun tonight. She came home, sat down next to me, and fell asleep. I think it is a combination of avoidance and exhaustion.

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She hasn't mentioned that Super Supervisor won't be in Monday and Tuesday of next week, which probably means that the upcoming absence was not announced. I'm not going to tell her, because she'll worry all weekend about dealing with Sub. Several weeks ago I bought a couple of DVD's. She doesn't know I have them. I think tonight I'll pull out the Muppet Movie. I think that will please her.

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I had another busy day. I've driven 330 miles on church business in the last 4 days. It's no wonder I haven't found time to finalize my worship plans.

If I Had Known It Would Be This Easy....

Yesterday morning Daughter asked for money to buy something to drink. I told her to take her sugar free drink. She then told me she owed Super Supervisor .50 for a can of caffeine free diet something that she had taken the day before. It seems SS keeps a refrigerator stocked with drinks they can purchase, and she has caffeine free diet especially for Daughter. I was inspired.
"Every night you don't wet the bed, I'll give you .50 to buy something to drink in the morning."

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This morning she was dry. I gave her .50. I hope it continues to motivate her. She's chipper this morning, and plans to call Case Manager from the gift shop to tell her about the story that Flasher raped her and got her pregnant. She said if she goes to see her while she's at the workshop, everyone will know what's going on. I haven't had the courage to ask her if she still wants to be with Flasher. I'm just going to savor the victory of a dry bed.

Sigh

She left the house singing this morning. She called me with blood sugar questions at lunch time and was happy and excited. She came home dragging. While she was at the workshop waiting for the bus home, some "friends" took her aside and told her that everyone was talking about her. They were saying that Flasher raped her and now she was pregnant. I pointed out that it was interesting that they thought Flasher would rape her and reminded her that he'd do whatever it took to get her pregnant.

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She sat next to me and slept with her head on my shoulder for about 45 minutes. After supper I gave her her list of chores, and then took away her laptop until they're done. She wants her phone because she needs to call Flasher's mom and tell her to get out of the way of their true love. Amazing that the same individual who figured out facebook has now decided that her response to friends' belief that Flasher has raped her and gotten her pregnant is to get back together with him.

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I now have custody of her cell phone and her laptop. Did I mention that apparently Flasher has his driver's license now? When she was complaining about the goings on at the workshop she told me we needed to move. I find myself wondering what kind of drama she'll weave wherever we end up. Somehow I don't think it's going to vanish.

Of Course

As I mentioned, this is a very busy week, and there isn't much time to squeeze in other commitments. Last night I received a phone call that one of our members is in the hospital with some rather serious health issues, and could be facing surgery. On my way home from a meeting today, I made a detour by the hospital. It only added about 20 miles onto the trip. He still doesn't know if he'll need surgery. I told him I'd stop back by if he isn't discharged.

On my way home, I received a phone call. The man I visited with communion yesterday was told today that instead of going home from rehab this weekend, he'll be moving to the nursing home on medicaid. His son wondered if I could go see him, as he knew his dad would take it hard. Of course the nursing home is in the opposite direction from the hospital. At some point I need to finalize worship. Everything will get done. I'm grateful that these things are relatively minor, and I haven't had to contend with multiple emergencies this week.

Finding Normal

Yesterday I was congratulating myself for not letting Daughter get on Facebook. It was bad enough that Flasher was using Facebook to send messages via her friend, I didn't want him sending them directly to her. This morning I got on Facebook and there was a new friend request-- from Daughter. From the looks of things she got on and signed up early this morning. She even has a profile picture-- which looks like it was taken with the camera on my old laptop this morning. She's holding Kitten and wearing her pj's.

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I guess getting on Facebook makes her a little more normal. I'm not thrilled, but I'm not going to try to get her off. She put me on her friend list, which will make it easier to monitor what she's doing. She doesn't need reason to unfriend me, which she probably could do without problem since she figured out how to set it all up on her own. It's going to be very difficult to cut off her communication with Flasher now. She found normal.

Seeking Normal

This afternoon I was congratulating myself for my wise decision to skip worship yesterday do I could have time in the evening with Daughter. I was thinking about how wonderful it was that she hadn't called me at all today. Then she walked in, and it was obvious something was wrong. When I asked, she said she hadn't felt good all day. That didn't make sense, though, since she hadn't called, and normally she would have called if she wasn't feeling well.

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Gradually the story came out. One of her friends had been messaging Flasher on Facebook. Flasher asked her about Daughter and indicated that he was still interested in her. Daughter agreed to get back together with him. I pointed out that she'd been happy, singing, cooperative, and now that she was back with Flasher she was growling and yelling at me. She informed me I had never cared about her happiness and expressed her displeasure with me in very colorful language. She then stormed out of the house and got in the back seat of the car (usually she sits up front) so I could take her to see Therapist.

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She wouldn't speak to me at all. Therapist could tell immediately that something was wrong, of course. I explained what had happened. She and Daughter went for a walk while I went to get fast food for our supper, since we had a youth group event as soon as we got home. Daughter decided that she couldn't be with Flasher until his mother approved since his mom might charge her with harassment and she didn't want to go to jail. The concern isn't very realistic, but it does give her an excuse not to go with him, which she was seeking. Therapist's observation was that Flasher represents "normal" for Daughter. If she has a boyfriend, she is like other 23 year old women. There is no easy way to help her feel normal. She can't live on her own. She can't handle community employment. She can't go off to college. She wants to be like everyone else. When she was diagnosed with diabetes, she told me, "Mom, it's just one more thing that makes me different."

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I want normal, too. I understand her longing. Once she had found a reason she couldn't be with Flasher, she was more cooperative and happier. At bedtime she said, "Do you know what I'm grateful for? I'm grateful that I have you in my life." I thanked her. She went on to say that it is still hard for her to trust me, and she knows that after over 20 years she should be able to trust me. One more way in which she isn't normal. She has trouble trusting me, even though I've kept her safe for 20 years. Sometimes I get very angry when I think about her birth family. Other than losing Daughter, they didn't experience any consequences for the damage they inflicted on her. It just doesn't seem right.

The Case of the Missing Skirt

I can't find my favorite skirt. I have searched my closet several times, and with the new light, I can actually see what's in there. It's not in the laundry area. It wasn't in the hamper of dark clothes I put in the washing machine this morning. I did a quick check of Daughter's closet and didn't see it. I suspect Daughter was taking laundry out of the dryer and didn't want to deal with it and hid it. She probably didn't realize my favorite skirt was among the things she had hidden. At least I hope that's what has happened, and it hasn't vanished into some other dimension. Of course, I'm hoping that she remembers where she hid this particular load of clothes. I want to wear it tomorrow.

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When Daughter gets home she has an appointment with Therapist, and then the youth group will gather to clean the streets of Tiny Village. There will be pizza when the streets are clean. I took communion to a couple of shut-ins this afternoon. The trip to the Alzheimer's Unit was interesting. One of the residents took a liking to the elder who was accompanying me. She was touching him and trying to get him to come with her. It was amusing to watch his discomfort. we finally took the woman we were visiting into her room and locked the door so we could complete our visit.

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Daughter did well yesterday afternoon/evening, and woke up in a great mood this morning. I understand I missed a great worship service when I left the meeting early yesterday, but the time and attention I was able to give Daughter when I got home was worth it. She hasn't called me at all today. Life is much easier when she's happy and doing well. Of course, when I ask her about the missing skirt, there may be a major shift in her mood. It's a chance I'll just have to take.

Car Time

I had a meeting this afternoon at a church 55 miles from here. The roads were all 2 lane, so it took about an hour and 20 minutes to make the trip. I was armed with my ipod, and so I got to listen to all kinds of wonderful podcasts. I listened to 3 professors discuss Sunday's Scriptures-- and warn against what I was planning to do. I listened to an interview with Serene Jones, who has written a book called Trauma and Grace. I think I'm going to have to seek it out after listening to the interview.

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At the meeting I saw a number of friends and colleagues. Daughter called me shortly after I arrived. She wanted me to know she was going to miss her. I called her at the supper break and when I was on my way home. I left early. I decided that it would be good to get home before she went to bed. She sat down on the couch next to me and ended up with her head in my lap, asleep. She has a need for physical contact with me right now, so I'm trying to make time for it. This week it is a challenge because my schedule is so tight.

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Today was a busy day, and a good one. I'm grateful for the time in the car away from distractions. I'm grateful for time with colleagues. I'm grateful for a break from Daughter, and for positive time with her. By the time I got home, she'd completed her chores and so I was just able to enjoy being with her. Tomorrow will be even busier. I hope I will be as content tomorrow evening.

Win-Win

We had a really good board meeting Sunday. We are trying new things, reaching out to inactive members, and recognizing God at work in our midst. We laughed together as we were about God's work.

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In my reflections following the meeting, I realized that I am in a win-win situation. If I receive a call to the new church, I win, because I will have the opportunity to move closer to family, purchase a house, experience new challenges and opportunities, and provide Daughter with more opportunities. If God calls me to remain here, we are in a safe place, where we are known and loved. I will have the opportunity to continue to lead a people who are becoming increasingly open to new things. Daughter will continue in a place where the staff is growing more responsive to her needs.

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I often remind people with serious illnesses that whatever happens, they win. If they die, they go to heaven and are reunited with loved ones. If they recover, they will have more time with their family here on earth. Many find this reassuring. Now I find myself reassured by the knowledge that whatever happens with the search process, I win. God is good.

Too Good and Lies

Diabetes Doctor said Daughter's blood sugar control is too tight-- her average blood sugar the last 3 months was in the normal, non-diabetic range. I'd already cut her insulin 30% in response to lows, but I need to cut it more. I was trying to figure out a reason for the reduced insulin needs. I asked about changes in medication or mania being a factor. Each time his response was, "We don't know." Daughter was crying as she put her shoes back on-- she can't handle change. I told her it wouldn't affect her, just me and the calculations I make for her insulin.

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She has to write an apology note this evening. The Sub who wouldn't let her call me last week came in at lunch time today. Daughter had a low blood sugar this morning, but her blood sugar was up by lunch time so she took her insulin. Daughter called and wanted me to pick her up early. She told me her blood sugar was low before lunch, and when it went up after lunch, Sub made her take insulin. It turns out her blood sugar was high before lunch, and so she took the appropriate amount of insulin. I explained to Daughter (again) that she needed to use her words to tell me she's concerned about her safety, not tell me lies so I'll come get her right away. I also told her she has to write an apology to sub for lying to me about what happened. She tried to convince me she didn't remember what really happened because her low blood sugars messed with her brain. I wasn't convinced, and she finally acknowledged she'd been caught.

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Tomorrow I have a meeting that extends from early afternoon into the evening. There will be a respite worker with Daughter when she gets home. Daughter seems to be handling this pretty well, but I suspect that I will have to deal with fall out when I get home. This is a very busy week in which I'm not quite overbooked, but there isn't room for emergencies. I am always uncomfortable when my schedule is that full, as it seems to invite emergencies. Daughter will test to see if I'm still paying attention, of course. Tonight I'm devoting to her, and hopefully that will make it easier for her to deal with my busy schedule.

In the Moment

In general, Daughter had a good weekend. She was cooperative and helped me get quite a bit done around the house, for which I am grateful. We went out for breakfast on Saturday, and she didn't complain when we didn't go out to eat on Sunday. She asked once if we could go (though I had explained that the Saturday breakfast was in place of Sunday dinner), but didn't protest when I said no.

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She kept herself entertained and out of trouble while I had my board meeting yesterday. Then, yesterday evening, I asked her to bring the load of whites into the living room for us to fold together while we watched TV. That set her off. "I'm tired of being good!" She tried to convince me that she needed to go to the hospital. She wasn't sleeping at all. The voices were back. She was having terrible nightmares. She was in desperate need of help. She even came up with a new line, "I want my Mom back!"

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I calmly pointed out that 10 bad minutes did not erase a good weekend, and I was focusing on the good parts of it. After retreating to her room for a few minutes of fuming, she came downstairs. She brought in the laundry basket of whites. I turned on the TV to Extreme Home Makeover. We folded folded napkins and washcloths and sorted socks. The outburst was forgotten.

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It is so hard to figure out what is real with her. She's been complaining off and on about stomach problems. She'll try to convince me she's dying for about 30 minutes, and then she'll get busy and seems to forget she's dying. I listen to her complaints and wonder which ones I should be taking seriously. Daughter lives very much in the moment. It's hard to get her to step back and see the bigger picture. When she's mad, she has no memory of being happy. When she's feeling physical discomfort, she has never been healthy. It certainly keeps life interesting for me.

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This morning she was cooperative, and was quite pleased as she headed out the door armed with her new ipod. I will pick her up this afternoon for an appointment with the diabetes doctor. I hope her good mood will last through the day. If it doesn't, I'll stay out of the moment and remember the good mood this morning.

How Things Change

I had a board meeting this afternoon. It was interesting. One of the men was concerned because the general fund balance was getting low. I asked what it was. It's down about 5% from where we were at the beginning of the year. The entire time I've been here, there has been a concern about having the general fund balance high enough to carry us through the summer, when giving is lower. The balance is over 3 times as much as what we have aimed for in the past. It was amazing how expectations of what constitutes a healthy general fund balance have changed.

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We had a good meeting. We are trying new things, changing things, reaching out in new ways. I have a really good board this year. If God calls me to another church, I will be leaving this church in a good place. They are much healthier than they were when I arrived here almost 14 years ago. God is good.

Sleeping Through Storms

The other night I heard a storm, and got up to shut my bedroom windows. It was just after 1:30 in the morning. I noticed lights on at the church, but went back to bed. It turns out I slept through the tornado siren. I was getting harassed about it this morning. It turns out that there were a number of people gathered in the church basement.

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The treasurer and her family drove to family members who had a basement for shelter. Treasurer said every house they drove by had lights on and people up following the storms on the television. They heard the sirens from Town (miles away) when they left their home. Tiny Village has a siren less than .25 miles from here. I didn't hear it. The siren is loud. It sounds repeatedly when there is a tornado warning.

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There were tornadoes. West and east of here there was damage. The sermon this morning was about Christ setting us free. I tried to convince them that I slept through the sirens because God had set me free from worries about tornadoes. I don't think they bought it. I guess I'm going to get my weather radio set up to alarm. I wonder if I'll sleep through that, too.

Now She's Excited

Daughter wasn't showing much interest in my old ipod until this morning. When she saw the delivery truck stop out front, she went running out the door to greet the poor man. She asked me to show her how to make play lists. My old purple one was 8 G, and her old pink one was only 4 G, so she now has room for all her music on her ipod. I explained what she'd have to do to make it her own, and she thought that was fine. She's been working hard today, wanting to earn that ipod.

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I moved up to 16 G, so I now have room for all my podcasts on it. We're both happy this afternoon. The wedding went well. I accomplished quite a bit in the kitchen this morning, and I'm even making progress on the laundry. Daughter is cleaning and singing to her new ipod. I'm cleaning and working on paperwork. Today has been a good day.

Saturday Plans

Daughter is in the shower since she wet the bed again. I've decided we're going to go out for breakfast, do a little bit of shopping, and then come home and see if we can get the house cleaned up before the wedding this afternoon. Kitten chewed off one of the ear pieces on my ipod early this morning. I had it tucked under my pillow, but one was sticking out. She had the nerve to get up right next to my pillow and destroy it. I was not happy.

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Of course, Kitten wasn't happy, either. Daughter threw her out of her room last night because she wouldn't settle down. Even with Kitten, I get the anger more rightfully directed at others. I have a little bit of work to do for tomorrow, but not much. The wedding and Sunday morning worship are both done. It's a wonderful feeling, and one I will try to pursue in the future.

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I received another wedding request yesterday, this one for December of 2011. I'm hoping that the wedding today will be my last one here. Weddings aren't my favorite thing.

A Better Day

I had several sleep interruptions last night, and one was very welcome. Daughter's door alarm went off as she got up to go to the bathroom. She was dry this morning! She was quite excited about it.

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I am continuing to take care of the things that have been stressing me out, and my mood is lifting. I really like having Sunday's worship preparation done. I'm going to make a goal to run away every Wednesday to work on my sermon. It certainly reduces my stress level going into the weekend.

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I have a wedding tomorrow with a rehearsal tonight. That will be the end of the weddings, at least for a while. Hopefully Daughter will have a good day at the gift shop today. She hasn't called yet, so I take that as a good sign.

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The sun is shining and the gloom is lifting in my heart, as well.

As the Mood Swings

Daughter came home dragging. I had decided that I needed to set aside time for her when she first got home, so I invited her into the living room. She sat down next to me on the couch, snuggled in, and slept for about 45 minutes while I read a book. I cooked supper, and then I headed into the dining room to do some work. Daughter came and grabbed my hand and led me into the living room. "Sit here. I'll be right back." She vanished into her bedroom and was gone for 20 minutes. When she came back down, she told me she wanted to talk to me. She told me she had a plan. She wanted to take the $1,000 she has in savings, find a building, remodel it into a club complete with stage, dance floor, and bakery/coffee bar. I explained that she didn't even have enough money to begin a project like that. She was disappointed, but recovered quickly.

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I went into the dining room to tackle the pill boxes. She got the vacuum cleaner out. I looked at and told her she needed to empty it before she used it. She put it away and stormed away. I asked her to sit down, that I wanted to talk to her. She said she'd sit, but I couldn't make her listen. So I continued what I was doing until she was ready to listen. She has been complaining that I'm stressing her out-- she's been worried because she's picking up on my grief and stress. I told her that what worked best for me when I was stressed was to tackle the things that were stressing me the most, because that helped me feel better. She listened and stormed off to her bedroom, announcing that didn't work for her.

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Fifteen minutes later, she came downstairs, got the vacuum cleaner and ran it upstairs, including getting the saw dust in my closet from the work the electricians did today. Her mood is volatile right now. Psychiatrist thinks it's the result of her intellectual limitations and poor coping skills, and not rapid cycling. I'm not so sure. We see her in just over a week, so we'll see what she says then.

Facing the Stress

Daughter washed her ipod yesterday with her linens. I partially disassembled it and put it in a tub with some rice in hopes of salvaging it. I ordered a new one for me this morning, and will sell her my old one. Even if she hasn't earned it, I will loan it to her to take on Monday. She called late this morning, sobbing. It took a while before I could get her to calm down enough to talk to me. Without the ipod, she couldn't handle the noise and confusion at the gift shop-- which is much calmer than the workshop. I finally got her calmed down and gave her a plan for making it through the rest of the day. She didn't call again, so that was good.

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I did my two most difficult nursing home calls today, sent in the registration for a conference we'll go to in July, and am going to take care of the final paper work for my estate. It will be good to have that completed. The church I'm really interested in called to set a date for me to preach at my friend's church. It will be the weekend of June 20. I'm excited, and I'm the first one they have called to set up a visit and interview. I feel good about this, and if the call doesn't come through, I'm going to take it as a sign that God does not want me to move right now and put my search on hold for a while. Doing the things that I've been avoiding and are stressing me always gives me a boost, as does the news of an interview.

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I am working through my grief, and celebrating the time I had with my parents. I miss them. They are fine.

Proving Points

Daughter showed me last night that I can't stop the bed wetting. Today she took it a step further. I was sitting in the fast food place working on Sunday's service when she called and wanted to know where I was. I asked what she wanted. She needed me to come get her because she was "slow" getting to the bathroom and there was a wet spot on her skirt. I sympathized with how embarrassing it was, and suggested she get on the bus last and sit up front. She was cheerful, and didn't complain or lay a guilt trip on me, for which I'm grateful. It was hard telling her to ride the bus, but I knew that picking her up would make the situation worse. She would have succeeded in making this my problem, and found a way to make me stop what I was doing and run to rescue her.

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It will be interesting to see what kind of mood she's in when she gets home. As for me, I'm in a better mood. I ran out of time to go to the nursing home, but I am pleased with what I got written. Having it done is a huge stress off of me. When Daughter gets home I will have to face two of my least favorite tasks: washing her hair and filling her pill boxes. Getting rid of those stresses will also improve my mood.

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For now I'm wondering who proved their point today. Daughter by showing me I can't control her urination, or me by proving it's her problem, not mine?

Beware of Mom

"Mom, you're scaring me."
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That's what Daughter told me several times yesterday evening. I wasn't yelling, but she was picking up on my stress and frustration. I spent over $60 at the superstore yesterday on yet another attempt to cut down on the problems created by her bed wetting. I couldn't find the plastic mattress cover I wanted, so I bought to shower curtains and brought them home and taped them together to cover her mattress. I bought a waterproof mattress pad with more padding, in the hopes it would soak up the urine and keep it from dripping on the bed skirt and carpet. I bought a small package of super absorbent De.pends. She was not happy about the De.pends. She wasn't going to wear them. I told her I'd thought they'd be better than sleeping in a wet bed all night. I cut the traza,done she takes to help her sleep. I limited her fluid intake. I told her that I thought the bed wetting would stop now because she knew she was safe at the gift shop and Super Supervisor is back.

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So what did it accomplish? I have two loads of wet linens this morning because the mattress pad won't fit in with the other stuff. I'm becoming increasingly concerned about what I'm going to do about some of our planned times away. I don't want to share a room with her at the conference center at the beginning of July. I don't know how we'll deal with the wet linens there. I've been telling myself she'd stop wetting the bed before we went there. I'm no longer confident that the bed wetting is going to stop.

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I also have much to do this week, and it's a gray dreary week when trying to figure out what to wear is almost impossible with very cold mornings and warm afternoons. I find myself grieving more than I have for my parents, and there are many reasons that the grief is fresh and real right now.

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I'm fighting some kind of stomach bug, and that has me dragging. The house is an absolute mess, and tomorrow I have electricians coming to update the electrical. This house was built in 1900, so the electrical system in interesting, to say the least. They are going to install lights in our closets, which are deep and dark. I'm looking forward to that, and am surprised that the trustees approved the very long wish list I gave the electricians. I told the trustees, "You don't need to do all of it, but since work needed to be done, I thought it important that you know everything that might be helpful. I told the electrician I was surprised they agreed to do everything. His comment: "They must really like you."

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I haven't heard anymore from the church that is supposedly arranging to hear me preach next month. The ongoing search is taking its toll on me.

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I have decided it's time for a change of scenery. I'm packing up my computer and a few books and headed to Town and a fast food place. I'll hang out there and hopefully that will motivate me to be productive. I have three people participating in a dramatic Proclamation of the Word for this Sunday, and I promised them I'd have a rough draft to them by this evening. The ideas are floating around, but nothing has been written yet. I hope it will go quickly when I start to write.

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After I do some work, I'll go visit one nursing home. I've been putting it off, because one of the men I need to visit there reminds me of Dad. I've been dealing with enough triggers without seeking them out, but I'm not going to punish him because he reminds me of Dad. I'll go, and hope the visit will trigger good memories. If not, I'll have the 14 mile drive home to cry. Maybe a good cry is just what I need right now.

Stressed Out over Nothing

Sister-in-law sent out a text to the sisters a little after 7:00 this morning to say Brother had just gone back for his cardiac cath. We all thanked her and asked her to keep us posted. She assured us she would. Around 8:00 we got a message that he was in a room, and she'd let us know as soon as she knew what they'd found. I kept waiting to hear more. Far Away Sister called, and we worried about the delay. I recalled timing of the report had gone when I'd had mine done a couple of years ago. Far Away Sister sent a text. Sister-in-law replied that Brother was wiped out and sleeping between blood pressure checks.

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Finally around 10:30, we learned that everything was fine. They'd known that all along. Sister-in-law "forgot" she hadn't told us. Mom always taught me if you can't say something nice....

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Daughter came home singing today. Super Supervisor was back at the gift shop. Case Manager was going to follow up on the fact that Daughter wasn't allowed to call me. She talked to Daughter when she got back to the workshop and told her that absolutely she could call me anytime.

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Tonight, I'm thankful that Brother got a clean bill of health and that Daughter had a good day.

Fall Out

Because Daughter had a bad day yesterday and didn't feel safe, she didn't sleep well last night. It was a challenge getting her up and out the door. I kept reminding her that Super Supervisor would be back today. I think that's what got her out the door, the thought that SS would be there today. Sometimes I wish that the individuals who ignore her carefully written case plan would have the joy of dealing with the fall out from failing to follow it.

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Brother is having a cardiac cath this morning. He's 12 years younger than I am-- too young to be having those problems.

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Yesterday afternoon I signed will, living will, power of attorney, living trust, special needs trust, and guardian papers and had them notarized.

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Today, I'm feeling old.

Getting to the Cause

Daughter came home today and it was pretty obvious something had happened that had bothered her. It always takes a while to get to the real problem. She wouldn't want to make it easy on me. She said she'd had "blood sugar problems," but refused to elaborate. I finally took her meter and checked the memory-- her numbers looked good to me. Then she claimed she'd been abused. First it was physical, then it was verbal. She claimed a couple of guys had called her the "n word." The story was vague and changing, so I doubted it had actually happened.

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Finally, the story came out. They still have sub supervising the gift shop. Daughter's blood sugar was 92 before lunch, so the woman wouldn't let her take her insulin. The order says no insulin if her blood sugar is below 90. Daughter argued and asked her to call me. She refused to call me and wouldn't let Daughter call me. She told Daughter to heat up her lunch, and then had her sit and wait 15 minutes and recheck. It was 85, so she told Daughter she'd been right. By then, Daughter's lunch was cold. She said, "Mom, I'm not safe there."

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We have had this problem before. Daughter will advocate for herself or try to explain her diabetes, and they refuse to listen. It is written in her case plan that she is to be allowed to call me any time, no matter what. She's called before when she disagrees with what they are telling her to do. Usually I tell her she's right, we do it differently at home, but because they are so concerned for her safety, they are being especially careful and it's okay to do what they're telling her. Today I probably would have told the supervisor that the order said no insulin if her blood sugar was under 90, but since it was so close to 90, she should have Daughter take her insulin after she ate lunch.

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I think that next time there's a sub, I'll just keep Daughter home. They are all afraid of Daughter (or maybe it's me they fear). Daughter picks up on their fear, and she gets anxious. For her to feel safe, she needs to know that the supervisor is calm and confident. She needs to know that she can call me anytime. I've explained this in very simple terms, but I think my explanations just scare them more. The sub called me with a question about the diabetes last week, and was all apologetic. I assured her that I didn't mind answering question, and she could call me anytime she had one. I reassured her that she didn't need to do anything for a blood sugar that was a little high. I suggested that she give Daughter something to focus on other than how she felt, and she'd no longer feel weak. She seemed grateful and relieved. Why didn't she do the same thing today? It would have saved everyone from a great deal of stress.

The Search

I've been pondering whether it is possible that God wants me to stay here. I have been considering putting my search for a new position on hold. Maybe this is where I need to be for now. I've been trying not to imagine myself moving to the church that has impressed me.

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This morning I had breakfast with a friend who is also serving as a reference. All six of my references were contacted by that church last week. All gave me good references. When I got home, I received a phone call from my closest friend, who lives about an hour from that church. She had received a call about the possibility of me preaching at her church at the end of June so the search committee could come hear me. That is the step before me preaching for the congregation and them voting to call me. I'm excited. I'm also reminding myself that this is the third church this year that has gone this far with me. Then I remember that in the Acts passage yesterday, God said no to two locations and sent Paul to a third. I find myself wondering if this third time will be the right call for me. If it's not, I hope that I will be able to discern what it is that God wants of me.

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Waiting isn't easy. It's a great opportunity, though, to learn patience. Of course, I thought I was already pretty patient.

Dad

So I was prepared to grieve Mom today, I wasn't prepared to find myself remembering Dad. Dad was a city boy, but his mom had grown up on a farm, and he loved the fact that I was living in the country. Daughter and I (and the rest of the county) went out for ice cream this evening. As we were coming home, I was looking at the winter wheat and the corn, which is just up. If Dad were alive, he'd want to know that the wheat is looking good and the corn is up. He always asked me about the crops when we talked about the phone.

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Last fall, as he was dying, he kept asking me about the status of the harvest. He didn't have a good grasp on timing, and so he started asking way early. Every phone conversation, he'd want to know about the crops. "Have your farmers started on the corn?"

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"Not yet, Dad."

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"Are they going to have a good harvest?"

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"It's hard to tell. The crops are very uneven-- some look great, others look terrible."

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So this evening I looked at the fields and wished I could call and tell him how good the wheat looks, or that it's that time of year when the corn is just up enough to give the fields a hint of green as you look across them. He would want to know, and I really want to tell him.

Mom

As I was reflecting on how nice it was that Daughter took me out to lunch on Mother's Day, I suddenly remembered the first time she took me out for Mother's Day. We were still in the inner city church, so she was probably 6 or 7. My parents had come to stay with her while I went to a conference. Daughter was telling them what she was going to do for me for Mother's Day. Mom was tickled by Daughter's big plans, which included taking me out to eat. But then Mom got to thinking. Daughter didn't have the money to take me out. Daughter didn't have the money for anything. There wasn't a dad in the picture to help Daughter honor me. She and Dad talked it over. I think it was the Saturday before Mother's Day that Mom called me. "Daughter was telling us how she wanted to take you out to eat for Mother's Day. Go to the piano and look (she gave me the name of a book and a page number) there's $20 there. Let Daughter take you out to eat." It was a wonderful day, and is a wonderful memory now.

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I exchanged happy Mother's Day text messages with my sisters today. I think it would have been too hard to actually talk to them. I hope everyone is finding some joy this Mother's Day.

Grateful

Today I am grateful that in spite of the ongoing challenges, Daughter is attached to me. She took me out to lunch in City today. She was so excited about it, I understand she was telling everyone at church what she was going to do. She even paid for most of it herself.

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On the way there we had a good conversation. It started, once again, with her telling me she wants to adopt a child. Once again I explained that she had to be able to take care of herself and be successful living independently before she can adopt. What was different this time, though, was that I figured out what was behind this desire.

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Pregnant Best Friend was hospitalized with pregnancy complications this past week. I have been working under the assumption that Daughter was jealous of PBF. She may be a little jealous, but there is much more to it. PBF was also adopted. She was older when she was adopted, and I don't think she succeeded in forming an attachment with her mom. Daughter considers her a sister because of their common experience. Daughter is beginning to recognize the differences between them, and it's painful. PBF does not have a conscience. PBF does not answer or return Daughter's phone calls. Daughter is extremely worried about PBF's health, and frustrated that they won't take her calls, so she doesn't know if PBF has recovered enough to go home from the hospital. What Daughter is more concerned about, though, is the safety of PBF's baby. She recognizes that PBF and Husband are lacking many of the traits that make people good parents. Husband has a temper. PBF is refusing to follow her doctor's orders about diet and such. Daughter is identifying with the baby. She wants to adopt PBF's baby, so she can keep her safe.

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I am grateful for a good lunch with Daughter. I am grateful that she has a conscience and has such a deep concern for PBF's unborn child. I'm sorry that PBF doesn't have the same concern.

Contradictions`

This morning I took Daughter for her quarterly blood work for the diabetes doctor. We always go to the same ambulatory care center, and today I asked if she'd like to go in and take care of it on her own. She thought for a minute, and decided that was a good idea. She went in while I waited in the car, and she was quite pleased with herself when she was done.

We went from there to my favorite bakery/deli for breakfast. I ordered an omelet, and she ordered a breakfast bowl. The bowl came out overflowing with sliced potatoes on the bottom, then crumbled sausage, fried eggs, and on top, gravy. She played with it a few minutes and then shut down. She couldn't tell me what was wrong. It didn't taste like the bowl she gets at a different restaurant. She didn't know if it was good. I slid her food over to me, took her knife and fork, and cut through everything, mixing it all up. I pushed it back over to her. She thanked me and began to eat with gusto. She hadn't been able to figure out how to eat it and couldn't ask me for help.

One minute she's a responsible adult, taking in the appropriate paperwork and signing release forms, the next minute she's a young child, unable to figure out how to eat her breakfast. I wish her age appeared on her forehead so I'd have some clue as to how to deal with her.

We found a store with the fuzzy posters she wanted, so we're home and she's happy. As you can see in the picture, I think Kitten is happy, too.

Mother's Day Card

Daughter made me a Mother's Day at the gift shop yesterday:
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M-Motivated (okay, she spelled it modidvaded)
O-Often forgiveable (I'm trying to figure out if that's good or bad)
T-they always know everything (this was underlined twice)
H-happy when not grumpy (is she talking about me being grumpy or her being grumpy)
E-energy is crazy in them
R-righteous
S-smart

Case Manager talked to her best friends and asked them not to try to suck Daughter into the drama. It's hard on her having a substitute at the gift shop, but I can still see that this has been a very good move. We watched a movie together last night. She is very happy right now, because I reformatted my old laptop and she's using it now.

Today I'm taking her for blood work and promised I'd take her shopping. She wants to find some fuzzy posters to color. It's nice to see her doing better.

Wrestling the Sermon

This has been one of those weeks when the sermon has not come easily. It hasn't come easily because it's speaking to me on a very personal basis. However, that personal connection is not something I can share with the congregation. I'm working with a passage from Acts 16 this week. The Apostle Paul wanted to go to Asia, then Bithynia, but the Spirit wouldn't let him. He had a dream in which a man asked him to come to Macedonia. So, they went to Philippi, where Lydia became the first European convert.

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I've been reading the story and thinking about my own search for a new position. There have been several times that I was convinced that this was the church where I wanted to serve next. Each time, the Spirit said no. Both of my calls have been very unexpected, and to places I wouldn't seek out. As a young white woman, I went into a tough inner city neighborhood to pastor a multiracial church and oversee a large service program. After leading them into becoming a majority African American church, I came here to a very white rural congregation. There couldn't be two churches that were any more different than these two. I find myself thinking about the type of church that would be ideal for my next call. Like either of the first two were ideal? Yet the inner city church gave me Daughter, the first baby I baptized. This congregation provided a place for us both to heal from the chaos and stress of the inner city.

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Part of me says, "Okay, Lord, I've had two challenges. Can't you give me something easy this time around?" Most of the time I wait patiently. Occasionally, though, I talk to a committee and do research on a church and community and convince myself that this is the church, this is the place where God is going to call me. The waiting is hard. So I read this passage and hear God saying, "See, you aren't the first person I've told no. You aren't the first person who had to wait for me to tell you where to go." I get the message, but it's not one I can preach, not yet, anyway.

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So I know what the message is for me, I just have to hear what God is saying to the church. It's one of those weeks when it's going in unexpected directions. I like it when God surprises me. I just don't necessarily like getting to the surprise.

Knowing When to Help

One of the down parts of being a pastor is the calls I get from strangers wanting me to rescue them. Some of these calls are legit, but many are scams. If I do give in and get scammed, it's a guarantee word will get out and the calls will multiply. Some of the calls are easy to reject. My favorite was the man who called me one winter morning to ask me if I remembered him from Sunday morning worship. He kept insisting he'd met me the previous Sunday morning. Because of weather, attendance had been extremely light that day. I finally said, "Look, the roads were bad so there weren't many people who made it Sunday. We didn't have a single visitor." He paused for a moment, then asked the name of the church. "OH! I don't know why the operator gave me this number. I asked for the Baptist Church in Tiny Village." Then he hung up. I didn't have time to point out to him that we were the only church in Tiny Village.

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Sometimes it's harder to know if the need is real or not. Yesterday evening I got one of those calls. My gut tells me the guy is scamming, but he does such a good job it's hard to say no to this guy. He's been calling off and on for months. There are parts of his story that are a little bit off. It changes in subtle ways each time he calls me. I have to give him this, he is persistent. Very persistent. The first time he called he'd just moved back to the area because his wife had taken him for everything in an ugly divorce following the death of their only child. The judge had been totally unfair and left him with nothing.

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He has family in the area, but they have disowned him because he left their church. Last night he told me he has cancer and will be having surgery next month. We generally don't assist people, we refer them on to agencies in Town that we support with food collections and money. Of course, he wasn't asking for money last night, just guidance as to where he could get a gas card so he could go to work, because he has a job delivering newspapers. He needs to work and keep this job because it keeps his mind off his cancer, which is probably terminal. Every suggestion I offered he had thought of and he had a reason why it wouldn't work. He couldn't go to the homeless shelter because he had severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from working as a cop and couldn't sleep in a place with other people around. He kept making vaguely suicidal comments.

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I finally got another phone call and had to end our conversation. I promised him prayers, and hung up convinced it was a scam but with a nagging doubt. What if his story was true? What if the whole world was against him? What if I was the only person on the face of the earth willing to listen to him? This is the part of ministry I hate most....

Today's Drama

It is amazing how much drama can be packed into less than 30 minutes at the workshop. Pregnant Best Friend is in the hospital with kidney issues. New Boyfriend is planning on raping her two best friends. Oh, and he had to go to the hospital today, too. Do I believe all of it? No. But it doesn't matter what I believe, Daughter believes it. She's thinking I should drive the 13 miles to Town and pick her up at the gift shop at 2:00 every day. I don't think so.

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I may call Case Manager tomorrow and ask why they have to return to the workshop with so much time before they can get their buses home. Just wondering. I think tomorrow I will meet her at the front door with a bucket and paper. I'll have her tell me the day's drama while we stand on the front porch. Then we'll put it in the bucket and leave it outside. It's not coming into the house anymore.

Mrs.

I was taught that "Mrs." was the title given to married women. "Miss" was for unmarried women, and of course, "Ms." was for all women. I don't get hung up on titles. I seldom use "Rev." I am known by my first name, even by the youngest children in our congregation. If I were to use something, it would be "Ms." I feel too old to be called "Miss" and I've never been married.

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Living in a very conservative community, I think the whole county knows that an unmarried woman with a biracial adopted daughter is pastor in Tiny Village. Our story is known In other words, it is known that I am not "Mrs." Today, I got a call from the woman who is filling in at the gift shop. She called me "Mrs."

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I don't correct people, but I do get tired of the assumption that I must be married. I have decided that in this county, "Mrs." means "mom." Throughout Daughter's school years, school people who needed to make contact with me would call me "Mrs." Do people no longer remember the distinctions? If they're not sure, why can't they use "Ms.?"

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Daughter's blood sugar was a little high at lunch, and she is complaining about feeling weak. The sub is in panic mode. I assured her Daughter is fine. I suggested Daughter was testing her. She then told me that there had been several outbursts this morning. That would certainly set Daughter off. Sub is going to be there 2 more days. I hope she calms down. The people at the gift shop are there for the peace that comes with a smaller group. It sounds like Sub is transmitting her anxiety to everyone.

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My rant for the day. "Mrs." was my mother. I'm not my mother.

Growing Up

Daughter is at the workshop for 30-40 minutes at the end of the day. That time there drags her down, as she gets sucked into the drama. New Boyfriend said some unkind things about Pregnant Best Friend, and those were reported to her in great detail when she got there today. She came home grumpy, and I had to help her refocus on the positive parts of her day. Once she'd refocused, she was joyful and playful. We saw Therapist this evening. Therapist invited her to draw a picture about how she was doing. Daughter refused, telling her it was better to talk about it. Just talking about workshop was dragging her down. She isn't willing to avoid her friends and their reports on the drama, so Therapist worked with her on ways of getting herself up after they drag her down. Not a perfect system, but hopefully it will help her protect herself from some of it.

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Overall, I'm delighted by the progress I see since she started at the gift shop. I can't imagine sending her back to the workshop at this point.

A Sign of Hope

Daughter came home yesterday and told me about a friend she saw during her layover at the workshop. He asked her out on a date. She said yes. What little I know of the guy does not endear him to me. I don't think he is a good choice for her. In fact, I think she needs to take a break from romance for at least 6 months. Here's the hopeful part of it: She's moving beyond Flasher.

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Yesterday she came home excited about being at the gift shop. I told her it sounded like she liked being at the gift shop. She lowered her head and looked away. "You don't want to admit you like it." She looked up with a huge smile on her face. "Okay. You're right."

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I've been working on getting my old laptop ready to pass on to her. I reformatted the hard drive and reinstalled the software. Now comes the waiting as I download and install all the updates that have come out in the last 3-4 years. Daughter is excited about getting the computer, and she's being very patient while she waits for me to finish gettingn it ready for her.

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I love my new computer. I bought a new router at the same time, so everything is working faster and is more dependable. The old one had gotten so slow and undependable. It took forever to do anything on it. This one is so much faster, and Win.dows 7 is a wonderful improvement over previous versions (my old laptop ran Vis.ta). Of course, starting over with the old one is improving it's performance some. Daughter has wanted a new laptop forever. This is the first time the old one was operational enough to try to pass it on to her.

Mother's Day

This will be the first Mother's Day since Mom's death. It's interesting how Thanksgiving and Christmas didn't bother me that much, but Easter and Mother's Day both seem harder. I was watching TV the other night and there was a Hall.mark commercial for Mother's Day cards. I found myself crying.

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I've been meaning to ask my sisters if it's hard for them, but I don't think I can even ask the question without crying. Once again, I'm surprised by this grief. I'm especially surprised because it is much more intense than any of the grief I've experienced since her death almost a year ago. Last spring we put her on hospice. I think I'm remembering those struggles, too. For much of the past year, the relief that it was over has been stronger than any grief I experienced.

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Of course, it's not just Mother's Day and the approach of the one year anniversary of her death. I am finalizing my own estate plans so Far Away Sister can release my share of Mom and Dad's estate. I have been amazed at the difference it makes to have a little extra money. I have two people who just entered nursing homes that are powerful reminders of Mom and Dad. I'm watching two families struggle with the issues that were so hard on us a year ago. Every conversation with them is a reminder.

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The other reality is that I've never really grieved Mom's death. I've managed to avoid it. Mom was far from perfect. She touched so many lives in so many ways. When she graduated from high school, she went to college to become a nurse. She was in a 5 year program and graduated not only with her RN but her BSN. She worked hard, and all other nursing programs fell short of the standard she set based on her own education. When she graduated, she moved back home with her parents. She had known Dad most of her life, as he was her brother's best friend. When he came home from Korea, he enrolled at the junior college in their home town and began pursuing Mom. Grandad told Mom that Dad would be a good provider, and eventually she agreed to marry him. He went off to the state university on the GI bill and she got a job as a public health nurse to support them. He graduated with a dual major: business and electrical engineering. They moved across country in response to the best job offer he received. They were just pregnant with me when they made that move.

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After a few months in an apartment, they bought a brand new home in the suburbs. It was the typical 1,000 square foot, 3 bedroom, 1 bath, full basement house that was being built in the 50's. They joined a new church that was still meeting in a school on Palm Sunday, and I was baptized on that day. Life centered around church and the neighbors. Mom didn't work, and we lived in a neighborhood full of young families just starting out. Some of those original residents still live in that neighborhood, and some of their children have now purchased (or inherited) homes in that neighborhood. I was 4 1/2 when Far Away Sister was born, and was delighted to be a big sister. Our school was across the street and down the block, and we walked to it daily. In the summer we played on the playground or attended the summer recreation arts and crafts program at the school. A neighbor had an above ground pool, and many summer afternoons were spent in it.

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I was 10 when Sister was born-- she was the "bonus baby from heaven," as Mom and Dad had given up after years of trying for another baby. Dad began finishing the basement. 15 months later, Brother was born. He was the "oops." Mom began work as a school nurse when Brother entered 1st grade. The following year I moved away to go to college.

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As the oldest, I was the "experimental child." I taught Mom some hard lessons, as her attempts to challenge me to improve were received by me as a message that I wasn't good enough. She was a perfectionist, and she pushed me to be perfect. When I brought home my report card, it seemed that the only thing she'd see was the lowest grade-- usually a B+. She was just as hard on herself, and I still struggle against perfectionist tendencies. Daughter has learned that she can accuse me of wanting her to be perfect and watch me back off all standards. It's hard for me to find the proper balance that challenges her without expecting too much of her.

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Mom was a woman of deep faith. She was always involved in the church, and in later years she became very concerned with pastoral care. She had a number of individuals she would visit on a regular basis. She grew frustrated by what she saw as her pastor's unwillingness to train members to do pastoral care. She also pushed her pastor to take communion to the shut-ins.

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My first church was in the inner city of a city notorious for poverty and crime. I regularly heard gunshots in the neighborhood surrounding my home. She was always supportive, and when Daughter came into my life, she would come stay with Daughter so I could go off to a conference. They'd come to Daughter to minimize the disruption in her routine. It wasn't until I'd moved that I found out how much she'd hated me being there, and how worried she'd been the whole time I was there. When she'd come to care for Daughter, she'd double check to make sure all the doors were locked (it took 3 keys to get in my front door). After she put Daughter to bed, she'd go to bed and lay there shaking as she listened for gunshots. Personally, the spotlight from the police helicopter against my bedroom windows was always a bigger concern for me. I probably shouldn't have told her about those nights.

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The first year I was here in Tiny Village, she had a great time buying Christmas decorations for my home. She and Dad helped me with the Christmas Open House for years. They loved this community, and were delighted that I was now in a safer community. She was excited when she heard I was going to begin to search for a new church closer to them. Of course, that hasn't happened yet, but I still hope that I will return to my home state to finish out my ministry.

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I lost Mom gradually to dementia. Yet even when she could talk, she could still communicate. I would harass her because she was always more excited to see Daughter than me. I accused her of loving her granddaughters more than her daughters. She'd just smile. One time I was wearing a new blouse with a scoop neck. She kept trying to pull it up. She obviously thought it was too low cut for her 50 year old preacher daughter. Another time she approved of the skirt I was wearing. She kept fingering it and nodding as she pointed to it. "Do you like it?" She beamed at me, and I thanked her. She still gave the most awesome hugs ever, and I miss those. Just showing up to visit her got me hugs. It's much harder to get hugs from Daughter.

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This Mother's Day, I find myself remembering all these things. I miss her. This Mother's Day, I am a grieving daughter.

Singing

Daughter is in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher and singing. She is very excited, because they are going to be doing some painting at the gift shop today. They have only been using the gift shop as a program site for a couple of months, so they're still getting things set up. They had to get a little refrigerator for Daughter's insulin (they were able to have that in place yesterday, it was just the transportation that they forgot). She's singing a song of praise that is her own composition right now. It's nice to hear her so happy. My hope is that as she gets more comfortable at the gift shop, she will be happier and more cooperative here at home.

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I am cautiously optimistic. On the search front, I received another rejection letter yesterday, and the church I'm really interested in is contacting my references. I received a packet of information from them yesterday, and I continue to get excited about the possibility of serving as their pastor. It looks like a wonderful church and community.

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Daughter changed her lyrics: "She took me in, she let me fly, she took me in." She's singing it repeatedly. I like it.

The First Day at the Gift Shop

I got a call this afternoon from Supervisor to let me know Daughter was doing very well. I was pleased. When she got home, it was obvious she had mixed feelings about the whole thing. She complained, talked with excitement about plans, and finally told me how much she misses Flasher. While she waited for her bus at the workshop, a friend told her that Flasher injured himself at track practice yesterday. I'm sure that was part of what got her thinking about him. Her friend said he wasn't at the workshop today because of his injury, but I think it was because his mom followed through and pulled him out.

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I enjoyed my day off with her safely at the gift shop. My new laptop arrived today, and I now have it up and running. My old laptop was slowly dying. This is the first time I've replaced an old one before it was completely dead. I also bought one designed for business use this time. I can thank Mom and Dad and their good money management for it.

Incompetence

Daughter was up and dressed early this morning, excited about starting at the gift shop. She had asked to wear one of the skirts that I think is a little short for me. She looked quite professional when she came downstairs. She was out waiting for the bus earl. As she stood out on the porch singing, and it got later, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. She finally came in.

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"Mom, the bus is late."

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"Go ahead and call the workshop."

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She disappeared out onto the front porch with a cordless phone. A few minutes later she was back. It took her three tries to find someone at their desk who would answer the phone (she has all the important extensions memorized). The woman was checking things out, and they'd call us. She handed me the phone and returned to the front porch.

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The phone rang. It was the receptionist. The paper work hadn't gotten to the bus driver. Communicating transportation needs is pretty basic, but this isn't the first time they've messed it up. By then it was late, so I took her in and dropped her at the gift shop. I'll spare you the details, but I was late for my 9:00 appointment with Therapist. Daughter dealt with the disruption amazingly well. She's in a much better place.

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It seems that Daughter called Therapist when she ran away from home Wednesday night. She just left a message, instead of calling the emergency number as she normally does. Therapist said it was interesting. Daughter talked about how she knew what she was doing was wrong and stupid, but she was running away and going to Town to see Flasher. She kept talking about how dumb it was and how it was the wrong thing to do, and then saying she was doing it anyway.

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For today, Daughter is safely at the gift shop. The rest of the week I won't have to worry about providing transportation, as I'm fairly confident that even the incompetent people at the workshop are smart enough to know they'd best get this fixed. It may have been a blessing in disguise. Daughter didn't have the temptation of going to check at friends while doing a bus transfer at the workshop this morning. It's almost lunch time, and I haven't had any phone calls about her. Life is good.

Energy Levels

There seems to be a direct connection between my energy level and the amount of drama Daughter is generating. After worship and errands in town, we came home and watched a movie (and I slept through part of it), and then I moved into the kitchen to tackle some cooking tasks. I'm now done, and everything is washed (though not necessarily put away). I made 20 individual servings of Spanish rice for the freezer, 8 servings of pizza macaroni, made bacon bits, and made a fruit salad with fresh strawberries. Daughter came in and wrote out the labels for the freezer foods, including the number of carbs in each. We now have 6 different varieties of single servings in the freezer. We've been using them for lunches, but they also work for supper on nights I don't want to cook. I'm really enjoying preparing these meals for the freezer. I use whole grain pasta, brown rice, and ground turkey and turkey pepperoni to make them a bit healthier. Daughter likes choosing what she is going to take each day.

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Daughter has some concerns about starting at the gift shop, and she wet the bed last night after 2 dry nights. We talked about her concerns, and for the most part she's been cooperative. I think that after a few days there, she will settle back into the routine and do well. That's my hope, anyway. After all the running I've done this week, it was nice to have several hours in the kitchen doing things I wanted to do. Very nice.

A Clean Kitchen

I came home today to a clean kitchen. Daughter and the respite worker cleaned it. It was wonderful. Daughter had a wonderful day. She was dry again this morning. She wasn't happy that I was going to be gone all day, but she handled it well. It was a busy day, but a good one.

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I can feel the stress lifting. Daughter is happy and cooperative. The kitchen is clean, the wedding is over. Life is good.