One of the Things I've Learned... Cherish Every Single Moment

On the way home last night, I realized that in losing my Daddy, I've experienced something that some of my friends and relatives older than I am have not yet experienced. I've walked the road that my friends' parents have walked (or are walking). It's strange how things turn out sometimes, how the natural order and timing of things takes a detour. One of my best friends said goodbye to her precious Memaw a week before Daddy died. I went to the visitation between Daddy's ICU visiting hours. Yesterday, my other best friend's sweet Nanny passed away. I lost my Daddy the same year my best friends' PARENTS lost their moms. It's odd to endure the loss of a parent at the same time as someone old enough to be your parent. And yet, there is an element of understanding that I've never known before.

I wonder how it is even possible that I could endure a circumstance that someone older than me has not. Some of my friends lost their parents when they were children, and I wonder if they felt the same way. One thing that is clear to me is that God used the experiences of my friends' losses to encourage me. And I believe that God is using my experience of losing my Daddy to help others, even if it is no more than knowing how to pray for people who are in similar circumstances. God really does bring good out of sorrow!

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

One of my aunts is selflessly caring for her parents, pouring out her love for them in her daily actions of caregiving, and I realize that even though she is (just a little!) older than I am, I have experienced a loss that she has not. I know a hurt that she has not yet known. And I am grateful that she has not yet experienced that hurt, that she still has her Mama and Daddy, and that she is able to take care of them. I pray every day that God will give her strength to perform the overwhelming tasks before her each day, and that He will give her the grace to enjoy those moments, because I know how special those memories will be to her when they are gone. If I had not walked that path of caregiving with my Daddy, I wouldn't know to pray for strength and grace for my aunt.

I watch how she treasures every exhausting moment, knowing that these days with her parents will eventually be a memory. She is keenly aware that these times are dear, even though they are hard. It makes me sad to know that she is laboring so hard to work a full time job, maintain two households and take care of her aging parents, but I am so thankful that she realizes the value of this time, and that she is able to provide the best for her Mom and Dad. She knows that her strength comes from the Lord, and He is good and faithful.

I'm so very grateful that somehow, by some miracle, I knew in January that I should savor those moments with my Daddy. I relished every second I spent with Daddy those last few months, and it was a pleasure to take care of him. When he was in the hospital (which was most of his last two months), I would give him hand massages, and that came to be a special time for us. If I didn't do them as soon as I got to his bedside, sometimes he would shake his hand at me and I'd ask if he wanted a hand massage, and he'd smile and nod excitedly. Even as I trimmed his fingernails, checked his blood sugar and waited after work for what seemed like hours to get him a Five Guys burger because that is what he just had to have for dinner, I tried to just enjoy the moment.

I can't lie. There were times (a lot of them) that I was tired, grumpy, and my temper was short. Sometimes I was mad at the diseases that robbed my Daddy of quality of life. But you know what? This is a tough road to travel. I don't think anyone can do it exactly like Jesus would, perfectly caring for our loved ones without any trace of stress or emotion. It's a hard, crazy, emotional road, and there are some really, really difficult days. Daddy knew how hard I worked and how tired I was, and he always told me that he hated being a burden and he wished I would just go home and not worry about him. As if I could just go home and pretend that he wasn't sick! I am not perfect, and my attitude isn't always right, but I know that my Daddy took care of me even when he was tired, and I owed it to him to be there when he needed me. The thought of him being in a hospital or rehab facility or even at home all day and all night, with no change of scenery, gave me the motivation to drop by and say hello, even if I only stayed a few minutes. I did it because I loved him, and he knew that. He knew I was tired and he forgave me.

My Mom tells a story of when I was just a few weeks old, and Daddy was the minister of music at College Heights Baptist Church in Gadsden, Alabama. Mom and Daddy were faithful churchgoers, and there was a church picnic. My parents loaded us up and we went to the picnic. It was a warm August afternoon, but it was windy, and I caught a cold. I couldn't breathe lying down that night, so Daddy walked with me all night long, holding me upright so I could breathe and get some rest. The next morning, Mom said Daddy got dressed and went to work as if he hadn't been up all night with a sick baby. That's love.

I tried my very best to love my Daddy the way he loved me, tired or not. I didn't do as well as he did, because I don't remember Daddy being irritated and grumpy like I was. But I believe that Daddy forgave me for my grumpiness, because he knew that I was doing the best I could in those circumstances. Every time I left, Daddy told me he loved me, and he always thanked me for coming by. I could see in his eyes that he was grateful for that brief respite from the monotony of his surroundings.

If I could impart anything I've learned to folks taking care of their parents, it would be this: cherish every. single. moment. Whether you're calming down a parent who is trapped in the confusion of dementia, checking blood sugar, giving baths, administering medicine, enduring the exhausting effort of taking them to the doctor or on a mini vacation to their favorite spot, celebrating their birthday, performing household chores, laughing with them as they put on a Santa hat and say, "Merry Christmas", cutting their grass, pulling out every Christmas decoration that dances and sings to amuse them, buying paper and drawing pencils or LEGOs to entertain them, using every muscle in your body to push them in a wheelchair around the zoo so they can see the animals they enjoy so much, baking Christmas goodies, going through old family photos, talking about their childhood, rearranging the ornaments on the Christmas tree so they can see their favorite ones from their chair, standing in the ICU room for an hour as they lie sleeping, cleaning up the popcorn they threw on the floor for the dog to eat, putting out Easter decorations for them to enjoy, checking the mail, or sitting in the ER with them for the tenth time this year... embrace the moment. You never know when that moment will be your last. Be present. Listen. Laugh. Tell them you love them. Celebrate everything. Soak it in. One day you will miss the work and exhaustion of caregiving, because it was so much a part of spending time with them.

You are not alone, and it is okay to be tired. Embrace the exhaustion, too. God bless you as you experience one of the hardest times in your life.

"Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you." Exodus 20:12