Chapter 9

Al started spending more and more time at Grandmas. She lived on the same property as Mom and Dad did. In fact, the property was large enough that it held three houses and each house had a family member in it.

When Granddad passed away, Al was asked to go down and spend the nights with Grandma for a while to help ease her pain. He had no trouble with this request. He loved Grandma very much.

It didn’t take long before a routine developed. He would go to work each work day and then he would go home and shower and then head to her house and the two would eat supper together.

Suppers at our own house were never pleasant that I can remember. I can understand why Al went the other direction. At our house I could never put my finger on the problem. I know it really wasn’t us kids directly, but maybe it was and we didn’t realize it.

There was always tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife. If I wasn’t being forked in the elbow for bad manners, Dad was picking on Al for anything that came to his mind. I never remember Dad ever saying, good job Al, I know you did your best.

What I remember is, why can’t you ever do anything right? I tell you and tell you over and over. Do you have something wrong with your brain? Are you just plain stupid? I may as well have done it myself.

Through the years that I lived there when I was still growing up or even when I would drop over for a visit and end up eating a meal with them, this never changed. I used to say to myself, Well why don’t you just do it yourself then and leave him alone.

Mom would get all tense and nervous through these meals. Mom had a great outlook on life but Dad always ended up tearing it down. I don’t know if Dad meant to or even knew the stress he was causing.

I knew they had arguments behind bedroom doors. I hate to think that Dad was intentionally being mean. I think he felt so insecure about his own self he couldn’t stop it. Back then you didn’t run to the therapist for every problem. You fixed it or lived with it.

Mom worked the 8-5 job and although I cooked a lot of meals and tried my hardest to keep the house cleaned, it was never enough once we all sat down at the dining table. Our half-sister was the adorable one. She talked about school and what activities she was in. Conversations quickly turned to her to escape even more fog.

When I graduated from high school Mom and I weren’t the closest. I always knew that she and I had never bonded like moms and daughters should. I loved her the best I knew how, but she hurt me.

I pondered on what it would be like to have a Mom who really loved me and wanted me. I am not ever going to say that I didn’t cause grief for her. I think  most kids cause grief for their parents.

I moved out of the house and got to be one of those bratty kids according to my Mom because I didn’t remain at home. My Mom worked up town and I would sit across from her office on the courthouse lawn and watch her through the window.

Why did I do that, I don’t know for sure. I think now when I look back I wanted her to notice me. I wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as she had made me feel. One summer day I was sitting on my favorite bench and I walked over to say hello to her when she got off of work.

I walked with her to the back alley where her car was parked. I don’t remember what transpired between her and I but I do remember those cutting words even today. I don’t know why you can’t be like your half-sister. She never gives me trouble like you do. But of course I could never love you as much as I do her. She is my only child.

Wow, what a blow to me that was. I think deep inside my gut I knew that was the way she felt about me but to hear the words. I wanted to run and hide under a big rock, I wanted to die right there on the spot.

I tried for years to forgive myself for ruining her life. It never worked. Then I blamed her thinking, Well no one forced you to marry into a ready-made family. Don’t blame me for this.

I wonder now as I write this if Al understood enough and felt the way I did. We were the extras. We were the baggage that came along. If she wanted to marry our Dad she  had to take us in to.

Mom told me one time a few years before she died, You understand Terry, why I could never adopt you and Al and legally be your Mom. I was always afraid of your real Mother coming back for you if she read or heard about it.

I can remember looking at my brother Al, and in my heart telling him, It’s not our fault bud. We didn’t ask for this. You and me, we belong together, we are real brother and sister. I love you bud.

Life for me became more dismal after she said that remark. It sliced so hard and deep that I still haven’t gotten over it today. While I am writing this, the pain instantly re-surfaces and I feel the deep ache of wanting to belong.

I have to believe that inside Al’s head today is masses of memories too difficult to deal with. They remain hidden and buried so deep that even  with all of the professional counselors I have had him to, nothing works.

Counselors do alright until they touch the subject of parents and Al flips out. I don’t mean slightly, I refer to him as a tornado. Dark and huge coming at you with daggers so sharp they would kill you.

The topic was always dropped when the professionals saw this. They usually dismissed him as a client also. We went through five therapists. The last one specialized in Adult Disabilities and she just knew she could help Al. But once again, when she approached the parent topic after having seen Al for one month, he exploded.

I never tried again after he was so outraged that the police were called and they had to calm him down by force. When I hear the word therapist today, I use every block I have within me to keep Al safe.

I know that he should get it out of his head, but I refuse to put him through hell ever again. God will deal with Al. God will protect him in the perfect way.  I do not have what it takes to approach this subject matter. When the nursing home came to me with the idea of someone speaking to Al, I stood tall like a fence and said

NO.

 

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Proud Peacock

Friday I went to see Al and he knew that I was going to be taking him out to lunch. I wasn’t sure what we were in for, because sometimes when I pick him up his legs hurt so much, we eat and then I take him back.

Today was different. When I picked him up, we went to his favorite eating spot. He talked to everyone he knew and even ones he didn’t. It still bothers me that some people try to brush him off, thinking how different he is. You know, we were taught to not talk to strangers when we were young. I don’t say anything, and I just let it go, but sit  back and watch how the uncomfortable strangers wiggles his distance from my brother. It makes me a little sad, but I know I am partial.

He ate very well and he was in pain, but he was choosing today, to over look it. Why? because he saw that a local chain store had hot wheel cars on sale. We went to that store next, and then he even asked to go to another store after that. He walked very slow, but he was steady. He had a good time, I am pretty sure.

I did not visit on Saturday, but yesterday, I did go to see him. I took him a meal deal from a drive-thru and when I popped in his room, he seemed a little down. I was almost wishing I would not have brought the food, but then he made a comment about what was in the bag.

He got up out of his recliner and we made our way down to the dining room. I sat beside him and pulled all the goodies out of the bag. We went ahead and ate our lunch, even though it was about twenty minutes too early for lunch.

As we were eating, the dining hostess stopped by to ask him for his menu choice. I didn’t think he would order anything since I had brought him a complete meal, but to my surprise he said, ” Did you know that this is my sister? She is my biological sister. We have another sister, but she isn’t very nice”. The hostess laughed and then Al said, ” This is really my sister! I am going to order a piece of cherry pie, and could you put some of that ice-cream on top of it? My sister is eating lunch with me. I want her to have some too”.

When the hostess left, I said, ” The food is for you bud, not for me. Are you sure you can eat all of this”? He shook his head yes. In about five minutes, the hostess came back with not one piece of pie but two. I made a comment that she didn’t need to do this, but she said, “He wants you to have it, and we try to please our patients”. I thanked her and Al smiled at me like a proud peacock.

When his eating mates came in and others stopped by, he repeated the entire story about who I was and that he had a half-sister who wasn’t very nice. He beamed during our visit. I could see the love for me through each of his words. I was a proud sister. I knew at that moment, that although I miss him terribly here at home, I had made the right decision for him. We are closer now than we ever were. The stress isn’t there when I visit. We talk, actually communicate with each other. He tells me his aches and pains. He tells me who comes in and what he won at bingo. We had a great time, and by the way, he did eat his whole meal plus his pie and part of mine. Geesh, I wonder, Will he have any room for supper?

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Ghosts From The Past

I went to see my brother today. He knew that I was coming to take him out to lunch. He had been lying down, but when I arrived, he got up and smiled at me. We put his jacket on and took off.

All through lunch, when ever I glanced at him and he at me, he smiled. A peaceful, innocent smile. I was so happy. I had asked God to bring a peaceful lunch and he answered quickly. Thank-you God for answering me so promptly with this request.

He did not want to go any other places so we went back to his facility. I had brought him some surprises, and he had opened the first one, when a strange lady walked in and walked over to us, and looking at Al handed him a clear jar of candy taffy pieces.

She introduced herself as a very good friend of our aunts. When she mentioned the name of the aunt, Al started to cry. Huge tears fell, and he told her to leave and to take her candy with her. This woman refused. She is in her late sixties at least, and neither Al nor I had ever met  her. Where was this strange woman’s respect for other humans?

There are many bitter feelings from the past five years, that Al and I carry. I, have forgiven these people, but when their names have come up, the wounded heart comes torn a bit more. Al is different. He forgets nothing about the past, and so he carries his pain as fresh as if his heart was  hurt yesterday.

Al asked her to leave once again, and the lady said no. I had sat there observing and listening, allowing my brother to fight his own battle, but when he could not get her to leave, I stepped up to the plate. I hit the ball right to her, asking her to leave, that she was upsetting him, and she placed her hands on her hips, and said,” I would like to see you make me leave”.

Now I am a very compassionate person, but I can also be a mama bear protecting  her cub. I stood closer to her and I said again,”Please leave this room now! He has asked you and as you can see, you have him crying”. She would not move from her spot. So I moved her by getting in front of her nose and forcing her out the door of his room. She continued to talk loudly making Al to cry harder, and finally the nurse came forth and told her to leave. Still, she would walk up to his room and stand out in the hall and wave and giggle. I think she was some crazy nut!

I walked back into Al’s room and also one of the aides came in and she and I tried to calm Al down. It took some doing and he calmed down, but it should not have happened in the first place. I have lightly touched on the fact, that our family, what little is left, had abandoned us after our father died five years ago.

I sent letters to some of these people, using Al’s words, do you remember? Back this summer, he thought he was dying, so he had me write these letters. None of these people ever responded. In five years, no one has called, and my number has never changed. No one has ever asked how Al is doing, nothing. Now, they are coming out, but there is no one there to help Al, as I am not there every minute of the day.

I don’t know what these people expect to see or find. When there are hurt feelings, sometimes they are easy to come back to life. We have been having this problem for a couple of weeks now. I hate it, because they know by now that their visits are unwelcome, but yet they come.

The facility is going to start banning people and their names will be on a list of do not enter. I wish it did not have to be this way, but for Al’s sake, there is no other choice. I look at Al as a sick man who is in pain all of the time. He cries a lot already, so why should he have to cry even more by people out of curiosity only. In the end what matters to me is my brother. I can not take the time to consider each person’s motives, I don’t have the time. I will fight to the end to keep people out of Al’s life if this is what he chooses, and he does at this time.

One more thing I may add to this sad afternoon is this; Satan, you heard me ask God for a peaceful lunch with my brother, and you got mad. You decided to send in the army to destroy us. You did hurt my brother. For heaven sakes, the man is slowly dying. Let him alone. Deal with me Satan. I am stronger, and I will chew you up and throw you back to the pits of hell. Leave Al and me alone, we don’t need your help!

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Dedicated To My Brother

One night as I was sleeping well

I heard a little tinker bell

I looked up at the darkness light

And there was oh so bright a light

I heard the voice say I need you now

It said do listen and then do vow

A man you know that is your brother

Has asked for help from none than other

He fears his life may be in doom

He is waiting for you in the other room

Give up what you think is important today

And help your brother to find his way

He will become dependent and weaker than you

He says he trust no other that only you will do

I tell you child this journey will be hard

Satan has thrown in the joker of all cards

You will achieve your own lessons  this I know

For I have planted tests to see if you will grow

His end of life may come sooner than yours

Just love him today and tomorrow the chores

Show patience and kindness, this way you both win

And I will reward you and throw away your sins.

There is no one better to do this job

It will be like shelling the hard casings on an old corn cob

I have give you this because you said you love me so

I know you won’t fail me, now turn and go

For this is your talent  that I have given to you

I know that you will always do the best you can do

And one day when it’s over, you will look back

And see that your brother had nothing to lack

He loves you, you know with all of his heart

He just has some issues with displaying this part

For I knew when I thought of you and him

That you would be the one who could get him to grin

There is nothing more special than two siblings who share

And I made sure when creation was thought, I’d make you a pair

Now go unto him he is calling your name

Help him to feel special and needed the same

Now open your eyes because this is no game

He is crying and lost and I hear him calling your name

Terry Shepehrd

09/26/2012

 

Prayers Are Always Answered

Can you be friends with someone you do not know? Can you fall in love with someone you have never met? How can you begin to know where the truth starts and ends when you write to a pen pal?

I am considered middle-aged now. I know, it is a nasty word to some of us, and to others, it means freedom. Freedom from pregnancies, freedom to retire, freedom to travel.
Being middle age should show others we have lived more than the younger generation, and yet have room for growth as our elders could tell and show us.

I have had the normal family, as it is sometimes called. Two parents, one step-parent, one full brother, one half-sister. With this brought real grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and also other half family members from other sides of far away families.

We had the reunion things each summer, with everyone driving or flying in to one location, that had been planned for a year. I have great memories of those reunions. The only thing that broke them apart was old age and death.

I grew up with friends and class mates just like you did. I got married, not once but twice, and I  have also been divorced twice. I made friends as an adult also, some leaving scars in my heart and others coming and going for reasons, only God knows.

The saying is, that if you have one good friend in your life, you are a lucky person. One of my blogger friends on here has had the same girlfriend for over sixty years. Now  I think this is incredible. I do feel lucky though, because I have had one girlfriend for over thirty years and we are still very close,although she does not live in my home town any longer. If we call each other, we pick right back up where we left off a month ago. These are great friends to have.

But, what about those friends you meet online, that you have never met. Do you think you can form a never-ending bond between them and you without ever seeing each others faces? Could you be so lucky to be included in their family as a true friend or better yet a sister or brother?

I do. I have made many friends on here, but there are two particular blogger friends, who have made me feel needed as a friend, and seem to know my thoughts before even I do. Isn’t this awesome? I was told that I was a part of their family. You will never completely know how this makes me feel.

To have my parents both in heaven, and a half-sister that is dead to me, and my brother who is so sick, being made a part of someone’s family, who I have never met, is a miracle in itself.

The only way I know how to explain it, is to admit, that it is a mystery, unless………you believe in God, which I do. I believe that God placed these two souls right in front of my nose. Right here on WordPress. God arranged for me to cross over to their blogs and he had the precise words that would light up my curiosity, and lead me to continue to read them, make comments and form these special friendships.

Many months ago I prayed as I have told most of you, for God to show me how to feel helpful to others, as I sat here at home caring for my brother and not working outside the home. It took several months, but he answered.

He told me to write. Yes, he sure did. Just as if someone was sitting right beside me and whispering in my ear. Write, my child. This is exactly what I heard, and so I did begin the journey of my life with my brother, even advancing my thoughts into fictional stories, books, and poetry.

People say that God just does not answer prayers, he floods you with blessings for loving him. He has blessed me with my one good friend of over thirty years. He has given me many good friends on WordPress. He has helped me to open my mind and become creative with my imagination and words. He has given me two special friends on here. He has provided another family to take me in as a part of their family, because God knew how alone I felt, and how much I was missing my own mom and dad, and missing the spirit of my brother, and the sister I used to have.

You two know who you are, and my dear friend of over thirty years, thank you. Thank you for listening to me cry, whine, laugh and stress. Thank you for taking me in and making me a part of a family again. I may be here in my four walls and live with tears and pain, sorrows and stress, but by God’s grace, I am with family and friends. Thank you.

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It Is Stronger Than Life

Tremors take on

More beats than a song

Anger shines through

Like the soul of a shoe

Finger nails turn gray

The heart acting this way

Tears I have seen

Showing Parkinson’s is mean

Not wanting to live

And has nothing to give

Stuck inside of this skin

There is no way he can win

Crippling the shell

Parkinson’s does oh so well

Stealing the life

Of a husband or wife

Does not want people to know

That the body  knows not which way to go

Legs freezing standing still

Causes the loss of his very own will

Life giving up and too tired to try

Want to lie down and just say good-bye.

Free Write Friday, August 4th, 2012

When I was a small child, my brother and I were taken from our mother and placed with our father, and his mother and father to live. We lived here for what it seems for about one year.

We lived in a two-story house, which is white and had a wrap-a-round porch on the front. It had very little yard space to play in, and an alley ran on the side of the house, so for children it was not a safe play area. I believe when my mind goes back in time, we must have been between three and four years of age.

The upstairs of the house was where the bedrooms were placed, and although, I do know I was the age of being out of a baby bed, I can still have visions of sleeping in the same room where my father slept, in some form of a baby bed or maybe it was a toddlers bed.

I can remember waking up in the mornings and my father holding my hand as we walked safely down the long flight of stairs. It is strange how we can remember bits of pieces of our young days, but even today, all the pieces are not connected. The puzzle looks put together, and the cardboard waiting for the missing puzzle pieces has turned brown from old age and sitting empty.

It was at this house that I remember much chaos. I can remember a lot of yelling and fighting. I can remember getting strange feelings that I was in the way. It seems like there was words of I am doing what I have to do, not because I want to, but you put me in a position of being a mother again, said by my grandmother.

My father worked the evening shift at the local bowling ally, and his parents cared for us while he was at work. We were not allowed to make sounds, and we could only play with one toy at a time, but very quietly. I can remember seeing my brother laying on the floor, and rolling some sort of car, maybe the size of a hot wheels, back and forth on the floor, never making a noise.

My brother and I never had any bonding when we were young. One reason was for the lack of using our voices. Another was my brother didn’t talk much. His vocabulary was very limited due to  lack of being  taught, or communicated with in any other way than was necessary.

My brother was kept captured in a high chair for a good part of each day, so he would not get in to anything, and I can remember tears and crying from him. I don’t know what I did with myself for most of my days, but I can see now where I am in my own life and Al’s life, that how we were treated as young children definitely helped mold us into what we are today.

I still cling to being accepted. I go over board to try to please others, even when I know I am being used. I hear my brother’s words when he is upset,  saying no one has ever cared about him.

This is not true, but the molding that was formed when very small remains in his mind today. Our stepmother did her best to raise us, and I am pretty sure she loved us in the best way she could. There was never bonding between mom and us kids, in the times that are most important, but there was a love.

I do remember when we lived in the white house by the alley, there was an elementary school that sat right across from our house, and if I was very good, or our father was sleeping  later than usual, or our grandparents felt they needed more quiet time, they would tell me to go to the school ground across the street and swing on the swings. They showed they cared somewhat, because they would always point to the yellow warning sign with the children on the front, this is where you play and this is where you stay. If I look out my front window, and I don’t see you, you will get a licking when we find you.

I would go over and sit on the swings and swing alone. My brother would not be allowed to go with me, because of his age, I think. Sometimes, a little girl about my age would come to the school grounds and swing with me. I am sure we chatted or laughed or maybe we swung in silence, I can’t remember.

One day many years later, when I was grown, or thought I was grown, I worked at a local restaurant burger joint. There was lots of teenagers who worked there. A quiet, taller than most girls, worked there also, and mainly worked my shifts in the evenings. Eventually, she and I became friends, and we got close enough that we even started to stay over at each others houses on the weekends. Remember those slumber parties? This is what we had. Sue, her name, introduced me to one of her friends, and so the three of us formed our little circle of friends.

One night on one of these over night stays, conversations drifted to when we were young. I have no idea of what was really transpired, probably silly things, like cute boys! I do remember one thing though, and will never forget it.

Sue talked about where she lived when she was little and how she used to go to the school-house near her home and she would swing with a little lonely girl. Her mother would see the young child sitting all by herself, and would ask Sue to go over and keep her company.

Sue and I discovered we were each the little girls that swung together when we were very small. She lived one block from the school. I find it amazing how God brought us together once again, after all these years. We were like lost sisters come together once again.

Now, even years later, she lives in a town near by, and I see her once in a while, and we always stop for a moment or two to hurriedly catch up with what is happening in our lives now.

So many times when I go by a school today, and I see the yellow sign warning children at play, I go back to my youth, and try to choose the memories of the little girl on the swing who sat with me, and turn my back on the sad memories of confusion of wondering whether I was wanted or not.

 

Thank you Kellie for offering me another chance to write for your writing exercise prompts!

http://kellieelmore.com

A Prayer For Al

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray my brother you will keep

I ask your for your hand on him

That you may bring about a grin

Lord know he doesn’t understand

The way you handle his life and plan

He hurt today God, can’t you see

I want him to have peace all eternity

He thinks he did something wrong today

To have this  come upon him in this way

I do my best Lord to keep him calm

I even read him all the Psalm

I need your help that only you

You can heal, something I can’t do

So when I wake can I please see

A different brother in front of me………

Terry Shepherd

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep… (Photo credit: cindy47452)

 

 

Mysteries And Faith

The world is full of mysteries and yet our minds are headed in the directions of what we know. You live the best way you know how, and you use what you have learned in your life and past experiences to make your decisions today.

Lately, on a lot of different sites I have visited, the topic of fear has come up, and as I have sat here reading others blogs, I am thankful for where I am placed on this earth, and for the opportunity of caring for my brother.

I have talked surface talk, about my father passing away five years ago. After this death, my life truly did change forever. Not only did I miss my hero so much, I had also been finalized a divorce from my husband,a few months prior to dad’s death, and I was experimenting living the single life.

My brother had his heart attack, and even during these times, there was a sense of aloofness from within my soul. I was so thankful for my daughter, who at this time still lived close by, for she was a great comfort, and her husband, was a proud, tall man who would take me and hide me under his wing, during the moments others were attacking me. I had a close friend also, who was always standing next to me in spirit, and this helped me to still stand through all of this.

It is crazy, just no other word, but plain crazy, what the words WILL and MONEY can do to a person. Family that I had, friends that I had, all of a sudden changed. No one was there to guide me, but the attorney. He would inform me of what I needed to do, or sign. My siblings would be involved with each step of making the formalization of the estate to be closed.

The Will was open for a year and a half, and I basically, walked through this first-time experience alone, trying to follow the rules, the laws, and taking care of my brother after his heart attack, and wondering about my own self.

Going from living with an emotional abuser, and then to living alone and feeling that sense of freedom, then back to living with someone, but this time my brother, was almost too much for me to handle. I was so thankful for my children and to God for carrying me through those awful months.

Wills are not always about happy times and getting monies or personal belongings. Wills can express in detail what the person who had it drawn up, is truly about. The deepest, and most secret wishes come out like the ashes from a volcano, hitting you in the face, and stinging at the same time, forcing decisions to be made and followed through, that I would rather have not had to do.

When you have lost the hero of your life, receiving five dollars or a million dollars, makes no difference at that time. When you are told you have to sell items to satisfy the law, it is not easy to see part of your memories of your life be handed to strangers.

I did as I was instructed, and mourned my father’s loss,in the spare time I had. I did end up moving in with my brother, as time expressed that he would not be able to take care of himself, and I still continued to work, and everything seemed alright on the surface, but deep down, in some, feelings were churning, and hurtful words came out, and family and friends who I had been involved my entire life with, were eventually gone, and the only way i have today of knowing these people were in my life is through my own memories.

I had no intentions at that time in my life of caring for my brother on a permanent basis. I can remember back then when he had the heart attack, I knew  he would  never be the same again in functioning, but in ways he was the same person as before the heart attack, he just needed a routine. I had looked into apartment living for him, in locations where other disabled adults lived, but I was shocked each time we paid a visit at the huge prices they wanted to charge someone who had little or no income, and had limited abilities to function in the daily world. I also would notice that my brother would look at me with sad eyes, and after time went by, I was able to see someone other than me who had suffered a loss besides myself. My brother had lost his routine. His comfort zone. Although dad was not the best to him, he was used to it, and he knew how to hide when dad was around. Work that he was accustomed to going to daily, was no longer there. In ways, I am sure today, that Al suffered as much as me or  maybe more, because he was totally dependent on others for his care.

It was then that I decided to give him the only stability I could offer him, and this was myself. A sibling, not a stranger, to walk the unknown paths of our future. We did this together, with the approval of our half-sister, and the courts. I chose to do what was right for Al, and gave up my work job, and learned to trust God for our needs.

The hurtful things done and the stinging words, I have done my best to put away, but with Al’s living more in the past each day, I am forced to remember things better left un-thought. I try to do what is right, and I work hard to live a respectable and calm life, but every once in a while the past comes charging back at me, and this in turns makes me want to stay hidden from the world.

I came to start writing, because although my days are filled with Al, and doctor appointments, and paying bills, and the regular things we do in our lives, I still felt this huge hole in my life. Writing was a way for me to express my true feelings. It was like having so many friends that were understanding. There was no judging, and  no rude comments, it was a neutral world, where I was able to make friends slowly through opening up my heart.

The past came back once again as a mystery to me last night. As I was reading my emails, I came across one that made my stomach hurt, and caused me to be on guard once again for Al and myself. A comment was made directly at me, that was too close to what words had been spoken those five years ago. I knew in an instant, this comment that was made, was from someone who knew me well, and I suspect he or she was from my past also.

It isn’t the fact that I can not care for myself or for Al. I can, and I have to admit, that I think Al is much more happy here at home than a nursing home, and when the time comes, if it does for him to move in to a home, I will know that he did more shopping and dining out, and experiencing new things in life,and he knew I listened and cared about what he said, , so for this I am grateful to have been able to give this to him.

What bothers me is now, is that  I am in the mindset of five years ago, wondering why people who were there for me, and in agreement with me, are no longer around, and have never lifted one finger for support or help, have decided to invade my life once again, with just one sentence.

I am who God hath made, and I will stay under the wing of him. The Lord will guide me through each of my steps here on this earth, not letting me trip over myself. He will touch my heart and let me know that I am not alone. He is my shield against all warriors, and he hath great powers to destroy thine  enemies. For God loves me and Al.  Through God’s love, I can do anything, for he is the power that I love, that I have chosen to receive, and in his arms we shall be safe. Amen.

 

 

Lessons In Life

The saying is, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but I believe you can. I am considered middle-aged, and am starting to see I am getting set in my ways in life, but I was taught a new thing this morning, and I have sat straighter, and have taken a new look at my life, and am now thankful and yet fearful.

I have been living my life through Al’s actions, and I now realize this has been wrong to a point. I have also been preparing myself for the future. I actually hate doing this, as I am not God, therefore, I do not know the time or the day when our lives here on earth will end.

I believe the brain kicks into a slow-moving gear, maybe a shuttle, slowly adjusting to what will happen down the long path of life. I think it keeps us out of the shock mode. I know of many instances, when a young person, or a healthy human, has been lifted by God, to live with him, instead of showing his presence here on earth. We go into shock, surprise. We mourn heavily for the loss of our friend, co-worker, or family member. Children especially are the hardest to deal with, as we expect them to live for ever, and even out live our own selves. It takes our minds weeks, sometimes months,maybe years  to get through this and past it. So, I am thankful in a way, that my brain has started to adjust to what could happen.

Today, though, I have learned from a dear friend, whose family member also suffers from Parkinson’s, that Al is not going anywhere, if normal circumstances continue. I believe I have fallen into the trap of listening and taking the words from Al and letting them sink too far in my heart.

Yes, he is suffering, I do agree. Yes, he walks with much struggle, and wobbles back and forth. Yes, he is very slow, and is beginning to struggle with drinking and speaking, but he is safe, in the fact, that he still can walk, talk, use the restroom, and dress himself.

When I learned that there could be more likely worse things to come, I had a wake-up call. Al could come to the point he can no longer walk, will not recognize me, can no longer be fed normal food, and he may want to sleep more than stay awake. The coca-cola could become a distant memory, and his new awakening for vintage cars, could become a thing of the past.

I don’t know for sure if this is something God wants me to learn or not, but my gut says yes. I believe God wants me to wait on him, to listen with my heart, and to let my fears go into God’s worry basket. I believe that God wants me to live for today, and pause only for tomorrow, glancing at it with a dim light, but not concentrate on the what ifs.

I believe that God wants me to place my trust in him, and not in the world. You can hear the doctors words, you can read all of the books, but when it comes down to black and white, it is very clear, the color is all white, pure white, our lives are in God’s hands, his perfect timings. I believe that God is using Al’s illness to teach me humbleness, thankfulness, and to walk an even closer walk with our Lord.

I talked to Al, who is in a constant pattern of seeing only himself. I told him my thoughts on how it can sometimes be a bad thing, a negative thing, to see only ourselves, and not see the wonders of what God is doing in our lives.

He didn’t understand, which I was already prepared for, and I explained to him what could happen to him in the future with this illness. I taught him what I learned, that God wants us to be forever grateful for this moment that we are given. He looked at me, and I felt the click, that he understood a big part of what I was saying. His comment was, you mean God wants me to be like this? I said no, but he wants us to give thanks for what he is giving us for this day today.

He said nothing and lowered his head to his lap. We both sat in silence for a few moments, he and I pondering on the lives we are living, thanking God for each moment we have, and that we have this time together to share. Someday, each of us are going to leave our memories for others to ponder on, but for today, I just want to lower myself on bended knee, and say Thank-you to God for using my brother and his illness, to draw me closer to you. Thank-you for being gentle and loving in your teachings to me. You are perfect in your teachings and timings, and for this I praise your name.