It Is What It Is

Life is good. Or at least that is what the company-created character named Jake says. You can see this saying on a variety of T-shirts, coffee mugs, and signs. You often find this saying accompanied by a variety of entertaining pictures such as golf, fishing, camping, running, etc. In fact, people pay a hefty  price for the saying, "Life is Good" on these items.

But you know what? Life is not always good. In fact, there are times that we are left questioning, "Why?"

Mom and Dad find themselves basically homebound these days. They get out for doctor's appointments and quick trips to the grocery store with the help of their caregiver and myself. After work each day, I go to their house and walk into the kitchen. As I enter the kitchen each day, I see a variety of things that remind me of their current situation:

• A feeding tube holder
• A basket of first aid supplies for feeding tube maintenance
• Syringes by the sink that have been sterilized and ready to use again
• Pill crushers for Parkinson's meds to go through a feeding tube
• Small containers for Mom that contain tea and other drinks that she is able to lift
• A plastic tub of medi-honey and other supplies to help with Mom's injuries from falls
• A walker
• A cane
• A stick to help pick up items on the floor
• And the list can go on and on.....

For a long time, it was painful for me to see these items each day, for it was a brutal reminder of our current reality. "Why?' I would often ask. Two of the most Godly people who have dedicated their life to goodness. Why?

Pam is their daily caregiver who has been such a blessing to us. She provides excellent care to each of them during the day until I get off work. A few months ago, she arrived with a sign. Not the popular "Life is Good" brand, but a more realistic one. The sign said,

"It Is What It Is"

5 powerful words. These words spoke the truth of our situation. There are times in which we have control over the outcomes of situations, and at other times, we don't. There are times that life just plays out - for the good and for the bad. It is what it is. 

But we are not left helpless. We can determine how we choose to respond to the current situation. Do we let it define us, or do we make the best of it? We can spend our time resenting the reality or we can choose to use if for the good. We can drown in our sorrows or we can "put our big pants on" and trust that God will use our current situation if we allow him to do so.

How do we try to respond at the Baptist Rabbi's house? Some days are easier than others. But we make an effort to see our glass as half full. 

• Providing care for them has given me a chance to spend quality time with them that I otherwise would not have given. I have the honor of continuing to learn from them each day.
• We have gained an additional family member, Pam. Not only is she a caregiver, but she has become a close friend to us all.
• Being homebound, Dad has decided to take control over things he is able. It turns out that it is the length of his hair!! He is currently working on a goal of growing his hair for Locks of Love. 
• Dad still is very cognitively aware. Being at home has enabled him to enjoy the conversation and company of many of his close friends who come by to visit. He has been given the opportunity to express how much he loves those around him. If you haven't come to visit, please do so. He would love to see you! 

This stage of life is not what any of us would have chosen for the Baptist Rabbi and his wife. However, "It Is What It Is." Who knows what is in store for each of us, as we live in a world of free will. However, it is up to us if we choose to focus on the negative and what could have been or if we embrace that "Life is Good." Even in the midst of struggle and pain, God can make good of it and turn it into a "lock of love."

Personal Pruning

The past few years have brought about a great learning curve for me as a caregiver. For Mom, I have learned how to effectively put on compression hose, back braces, and knee braces. For Dad, I have learned how to crush medicines, feed with a feeding tube, care for granulomas, and program for night time feeding pumps. Basically, I have become an expert on Parkinson's, scoliosis, stenosis, PHN, and a wide variety of other medical issues.

If you have ever been to Mom and Dad's house, you know the beauty of their backyard. Many years ago, a man gave Dad many rose bushes, which have become a favorite pastime of the Baptist Rabbi and his wife. Over the past few years, many of the rose bushes have been replaced with Knock Out Roses, and quite often, they battle the deer and beavers trying to eat them. Mom and Dad have had countless hours of joy working in their backyard and enjoying the scenery on their glassed-in back porch. While I was there today, we saw ducks, chipmunks, and a multitude of birds come to visit. It is a beautiful place to be. In fact, Dad said the other day, "If you have to be homebound, there is no better place to be than on this back porch."

Due to heath issues, Mom can no longer work in her roses. Dad can go out for a brief period of time, but his stamina is not as it once was. Therefore, as their caregiver, they trained me on what to do. They taught me how to prune. Dad taught me that it was important to cut off the dead blooms and dead parts of the bush so that the plant would not spend energy trying to nourish the parts of the plant that were not longer living. It is important to cut off the dying blooms so that the plant will use its energy to develop new growth and new booms. So now, every Saturday is "Pruning Day" at the Dean household. I take Mom's special scissors to the rose bushes and I cut off the dead blooms and limbs off the rose bushes. And I will have to admit.....I find great joy in it! There is something theraputic about ridding of the old and making room for the new.

And so the Baptist Rabbi, once again, teaches me a life lesson. Life is a journey, full of new experiences. However, the only way that we can continue to grow and bloom is if we are willing to let go of the dead blooms and limbs in our life. Hanging on to them inhibits our ability to move forward and experience the the fullness of life. Continuing to use our energy on parts of us that are dead is detrimental. We must be willing to cut away those areas of our life so that our energy can be spent on something new, brighter, and better. Once we grow accustom to letting go of the "dead" parts of our life, we enter a theraputic, energizing stage that allows us to continue to develop and grow. There is great satisfaction to be found in personal pruning. There is peace to be found in letting go of the parts of our life that suck the energy from us and keep us from developing more blooms.

I must say....I have never had a green thumb. However, Dad teaching me the importance of pruning has allowed me to finally be successful in having beautiful roses in my front yard. I have shared my secret of pruning with several neighbors and friends who have found the same joy in eliminating the dead parts of their rose bushes.

We can't hold onto the past and move forward at the same time. When parts of our life are sucking energy, but not producing blooms, it is time to cut it away. Then sit in patience, waiting for the new growth and blooms to develop in our lives.

Thank you, Sam and Marie, for showing me the power of pruning. May we all realize that life is a cycle of cutting back and growing forward. May we all strive to find the power to cut away the dead parts of our lives, allowing for new growth and larger blooms.

Conversion of Commitment

There is one thing that we can all say about the Baptist Rabbi. He is a man of his word. If he says he will do it - he does. If he says he believes it - he does. If he begins something - he will finish it. He may not be able to eat, but his brain is still as sharp as ever. Thankfully, Parkinson's has left his brain alone, and he remains one of the smartest people I have ever known.

Commitment is a virtue that was extremely important growing up in the Dean household. Once we started something - we were required to finish it. I remember taking a seasonal job at a local department store in downtown Knoxville while in college. I called him crying my first day on the job because a customer had accused me of not knowing what I was doing (which was a completely accurate assessment!). But nevertheless, it broke my heart. I called Dad expecting to get some sympathy, telling me to come on back to the safety of my own home. Instead, I got the tough love answer. His response sounded something like, "Grow up and get a backbone. Not everyone in the world will be kind. But you made a commitment to work with them, and you will stay until your agreement with them is complete." And then he hung up on me!

Linsdey Denton is a dear person to me. She endured eleven years with me trying her hardest to teach me how to play the piano. Often she would have to spend time talking to me about the length of my nails and how practice pays off. I'm sure she got tired of repeating the same lessons of life to me, but she always did it with patience and compassion. Of course, mastering the piano takes lots of dedication and practice. There were many times that my social life would seem much more interesting than sitting at the piano practicing for guilds and recitals. There were times that I would approach both of my parents and ask if I could quit. I bet you could guess what they had to say. I expressed a desire to learn how to play the piano, and I needed to stick with it. I needed to honor the commitment that I made. Twenty-five years later, I periodically will sit at the piano at my house and play a few hymns and other songs, wishing I had heeded to the advice of my parents and Lyndsay about commitment and dedication.

Mom and Dad have been true examples of commitment. Chris and I have been one of the lucky ones that have watched them model the true meaning of commitment through their marriage of 50 years. Through their journey, their commitment has looked different, depending on the circumstances. Mom supported Dad as he finished seminary. Mom chose to leave the family she loves in North Carolina to support his ministry, wherever God chose to take him. Dad supported Mom through a stressful career in education, where some years were good and some were not. Dad has supported Mom through various auto-immune conditions that required her to visit multiple hospitals (some out of town) and an ultimate destination to disability. Mom supported Dad through endless hours of ministry, often cutting a vacation short or disrupting a night's sleep to attend to other's needs. Mom and Dad supported each other in raising Chris and  me - which always wasn't easy. But they did it together. We always saw them as one. They always kept a consistent message - one with an abundance of love, high expectations, and ethics.

The visual image of their commitment has changed somewhat over the years. They both find themselves dealing with multiple health issues today and spend most of their time at home. Mom has been plagued with a severe case of scoliosis and stenosis, making mobility a difficult task for her. Her arthritis makes it difficult for her to do fine motor activities. However, each day, she rises to the task of taking care of Dad's needs with a sacrificing love that his needs are more important than hers. Dad does the same in return for her. With her mobility, she has frequent falls. He is always there to help her get to a safe place and give her proper care until I can get to them, despite his constant level of pain due to PHN.

To be an active witness of their level of commitment to each other is simply breathtaking. It is not always easy. They are both human, so at times, the situational reality is challenging and overwhelming to them both. The requirements of commitment look very different for them today than in earlier years. The commitment has undergone a conversion. But the level of commitment remains the same- if not stronger.

Today, they both look different visually. In fact, Dad can no longer wear his wedding ring on his 4th finger due to his weight loss caused by Parkinson's and the feeding tube. Many men would discontinue wearing the ring, but not my Dad. The commitment is too meaningful. He made a commitment to God that they would support each other through all of life's circumstances. The ring is now proudly worn on his third finger. The conversion of the ring to a different finger did not change the dedication and commitment. It has only made it stronger as they continue to lean on each other during this stage of their life.

On Mother's Day weekend, I am thankful that I get to be a part of God teaching me about the true meaning of commitment through my Mom and Dad. Just as life's journey changes, the requirements of our commitments change. May we all embrace the challenges and joys that the conversion of our commitments bring. But by all means, may we remain committed! Happy Mother's Day to all!

**Side note to Lindsey Denton - As I type this blog, I hear my nails tapping! I will go cut them in honor of you for Mother's Day!!! Ha! Love you!

Meandering....

"Education is the one thing no one can ever take from you." That was a lesson deeply embedded in Chris and me growing up in the Dean household. Every chance Mom and Dad could get, they were trying to increase our vocabulary, teaching us a new word. After the word was introduced, Dad would periodically work it into a conversation with me as a test to see if I remembered the meaning. There were even occasions that he would make some philosophical statement, using lots of "grown up" words, just to enjoy seeing the confused look on my face!

Taking him home from the doctor yesterday, I noticed that something grabbed his attention on the right hand side of the road. He became silent for a moment.  When this happens,  I always know something is on his mind. After the short period of only the radio being heard, the Baptist Rabbi said, "Meander......that is one of my favorite words." Through my slight giggle, I respond by saying, "What in the world made you think of that driving down the road?!" He briefly described the creek that grabbed his attention as it worked hard to provide an appropriate pathway for the water to flow peacefully from the storm that made its way into our area the previous night. He found the movement of the water back and forth simply breathtaking.

As always, there is a lesson in his observation. Dad proceeded to explain that he loved watching the twists and turns of the creek growing up. He found it intriguing the way that the creek had learned to be flexible in creating bends and curves, allowing the water to meander through the flexible pathway of the creek bed. When the water enters the creek, it does not know its path. However, it embraces the unpredictable path, taking the back and forth motion with tolerance, respect, and grace.

There is beauty in life's meandering. Rarely does life take us on a straight path. We greet each day, not knowing where our "personal creek" is going to take us. Flexibility is key. There is peace when we find the ability to respect the back and forth motion of our journey. Some areas of our creek move at a fast pace, bouncing against large boulders and the creek walls. At other times, the movement is slow, moving peacefully and quietly. The danger is not in the willingness to meander within the intended path. The catastrophe happens when the volume of the water overflows and floods the creek - spilling into unintended paths, causing damage to surrounding areas.

Not only do we not know the future of where our personal creek will take us, but we are not always aware of personal conditions of the creek of those around us. Our personal past and current experiences shape the conditions of our creek. We must learn that grace allows us to find peace in our current travels, but we must develop a tolerance for those who are traveling a different path. We are all called to meander, but not necessarily on the same path. While we all learn to embrace the power of meandering, may we all remember that we must stay within our limits of flexibility. When we lose respect for our personal creek walls, we can easily cause damage to ourselves and others.

Think of how boring this world would be if we all traveled the same path! There would not be enough room in the creek to hold us all! We are all called to meander in our own way. There is beauty in flexibility and tolerance for the path of others. However, it is equally as important to stay true to ourselves and stay within our intended path.

"Meander"
Just like my Dad, I like the sound of the word as well.
Even better, I'm glad Mom and Dad taught me to embrace the meandering of my journey and the journey of others. Tolerance.......respect.......grace......ultimate peace......

Bye, Son.....

Son. The Baptist Rabbit has several names. People in Greenville, TN know him by "Dale." People in Clinton know him by "Sam." I know him as "Dad." His grandkids know him by "Popman." At times, Mom has her own few choice words for him, but I'll spare you of those details! :) But one of the most precious names is what his Mom, Bonnie Dean, called him, which was "Son."

The Baptist Rabbi has always been a "Mama's boy." He cannot speak of his Mother without tears bellowing in his eyes. She was a caring woman who worked hard. She loved her children unconditionally. After receiving the news that she had breast cancer, she went back to work at the factory specifically so my Dad could take advantage of the scholarships that they had to offer. She fought through the struggles of losing some of the use of one of her arms without a moment of complaining. She was filled with love for Jesus, and would willingly sacrifice for her family with nothing but a sweet smile on her face.

Every Easter, I am reminded of when she went to embrace heaven. Dad had just finished a Maundy Thursday Service at First Baptist Church in Clinton. While greeting people at the door, he received word that Bonnie Dean, my Mamaw, had a stroke and was not in good shape at a hospital in Greeneville. Frantically, Dad left the church to get to her as soon as possible. He was told by my Aunt Sharon that she was not likely to make it. For those of you who know my father, he is a rule follower. However, this is one time that his speedometer would have made any police officer do an immediate U-turn to restore peace to the community. As he was driving down the highway, around 8:00 p.m., he heard the clear voice of his mother saying, "Bye Son..." He immediately was overwhelmed with a sense of calmness and peace that, to this day, he has a very hard time describing. He knew she had just met Jesus. He slowed down his car and took his time making his way to her hospital bed.

As he entered the hospital, he was met by family members who informed Dad that Mamaw had passed. When Dad asked the time, not surprisingly, it was the exact time that he heard that voice in the car sweetly say, "Bye Son...". Coincidence? I think not.

Bonnie Dean was buried on Easter Sunday. I can't think of a better day to celebrate the life of such a special woman. Even though I was still in elementary school when this happened, I remember being sad that she was no longer with us, but happy that she was celebrating in heaven. I can't think of a better day than Easter to celebrate her entry into heaven.

As we enter the special day of Easter, let us remember:

• This is a time of celebration. Jesus died for our sins and was resurrected. Because of this, grace covers us. Everyday is a new Easter where our slate is wiped clean.
• God is alive and well. He still speaks to us if we can only sit still and listen to his Word. 
• In the midst of ultimate sadness, God is there - providing a sense of peace and calmness that only He can provide and sustain. 
• Life is hard, but we have an eternity of celebration and peace in which to look forward. 

As for me, I look forward to the day when I can embrace Bonnie Dean, as well as all the other loved ones who have gone before me. So many have played such an important part of who I am today. Because of Easter, may we all celebrate the fact that the words, "Bye, Son" are temporary, and we will once again be united with our loved ones for an eternity because of the grace that the cross provides to each of us.

Situational Purgatory Bringing Peace in Reality

I call it "Situational Purgatory." The time span in between what could be and what will actually be. We have all been there - and it is not a pleasant place to be. For reflective people like the Baptist Rabbi and myself, we spend a great amount of time considering all the possibilities of a situation and what our reaction will be to each. Times of purgatory leave our minds in a state of confusion wondering what the reality of our situation will ultimately bring.  Will it bring happiness or devastation? How do we prepare our minds for each so that we can adequately handle the final news that is delivered?

Dad has lived in such a purgatory since November. We don't realize what a large part of eating is to our social and emotional life until it is stripped from us. Dealing with aspirational pneumonia, Dad was told that he was aspirating on every kind of food/liquid, regardless of its consistency. A feeding tube would need to be placed in his stomach so he could receive the calories and nutrients that he needs to sustain. The "carrot" of therapy was dangled in front of him. There was a small chance that therapy could rebuild some of his swallowing muscles and the tube would be temporary. However, due to the degenerative nature of Parkinson's, there was also the chance that this was irreversible. Thus, he entered the state of situational purgatory. The first round of home health swallow therapy proved to be unsuccessful. The follow-up swallow test showed "no improvement." We were all devastated at the news. We had planned to take him for gravy and biscuit on the way home from the test. But he was unable to move to the positive side of this situational purgatory. My family was at a loss of words to say to him. For control freaks like me, I wanted to fix this situation, and this was simply beyond my control. The elevator stopped and he would remain in purgatory for yet another length of time. Would he ever be able to eat again or was this his new reality?

A new therapy was introduced called Vital Stim that showed some slight hope that it would help. A wonderful group of people from First Baptist made sure that he had transportation to his therapy while I worked. A HUGE thanks to them! Another six weeks was spent trying to grapple with the realities if he would be able to eat again or if the feeding tube was his permanent reality. I am deeply saddened to report that he went for his follow up test yesterday. Lori, the fabulous therapist that worked with him, walked out with tears in her eyes to report that there was, yet again, "no significant improvement." It appears as if Parkinson's has hit this area directly. He has developed a hard swallow, but his epiglottis has completely stopped working. Therefore everything that is swallowed goes into the lungs as well as the esophagus. We are to the point of no return. The purgatory elevator did not land where our prayers had repeatedly requested.

As I tried to pick up the pit from my stomach and determine how I was going to attempt to encourage the well-loved Baptist Rabbi, I was at a loss of words.  Honestly, some specific words came to mind, but they would not be appropriate for this blog!! :) However, as the situational purgatory ended and we were informed of his permanent reality, I was once again surprised by the wisdom of my father. This is a summary of the words that he said to me, "If this happened to me when I was 56, this would be devastating. But I am 74 years old. I can't complain about the life that has been awarded to me. Many of my friends were never given the opportunity to see 70. If I can live 5 more years with the tube, it will be a huge blessing. If I can't, I still have been abundantly blessed." My anger toward God immediately was tempered through the Baptist Rabbi's wisdom.

He has always taught me that life is not fair. He has also taught me that prayers are not always answered in the way in which we choose. Ultimately, it is God's plan, not our own. Maybe this time of purgatory was part of the plan. Maybe this time allowed him (and us) to have time to reflect upon both paths and prepare our hearts and minds for each. My prayer was not answered the way in which I had begged, but I was amazed at the peace that covered the Dean household yesterday with the delivery of this new reality.

While situational purgatory is not a preferred place for us to be, it must serve a purpose. We will deal with this new reality with the love and support from a wonderful community of friends and family. As he continues to wrap his head around this new reality, my prayer is that he can continue to feel God's peace and continue to embrace the many wonderful things that life still has to offer.

As Alan Zimmerman, a member of our Parkinson's Support Group says, "Do as much as I can for as long as I can." The Dean family will try not to focus on what Dad can no longer do and praise what he is still able to do and embrace it as long as we can! I encourage his friends to come celebrate with him, as there is still much life to live!

 Even when prayers are not answered the way in which we wish, God can provide peace in our new realities. I guess situational purgatory plays a role in helping provide that peace. My prayer is that God continues to show his grace and peace in the days ahead.


Update on sweet Marie: Mom also suffered aspirational pneumonia this past week and spent several days in the hospital. We spent a few days in situational purgatory with her as well as they feared she was also aspirating. However, her swallow test came back great and she is home trying to regain her strength. She never ceases to amaze me with her willingness to fight. We have joked for years about her "feisty" personality. It is this fabulous feistiness that allows her to do so well despite all the health issues that plague her. She is one amazing woman.

Ain't No Dust on My Jesus!

I will always remember it..........the dreaded note on the kitchen table. During the summer or times when Mom and Dad would be away, I would wake up and make my way into the kitchen to find a list of chores written on a piece of paper. It was expected that these chores would be completed before I was allowed to participate in any fun activity.  Somewhere on the list, I usually found the word "dust." Mom has always placed utmost importance on a clean house. She hates dust. I remember her dusting her room at odd times: before going to work in the morning, in between putting on make-up and teasing her hair, and while brushing her teeth! While I absolutely hated getting the list of cleaning duties, I will have to admit that it taught me some responsibility. Mom and Dad lived through my resentful comments (even to this day) because they knew that they there were teaching me good life habits.

Sitting in hospitals is torturous! The long wait for healing and the endless hours waiting on a doctor to finally arrive will certainly create some unique conversations in the dark, quiet hospital room. During Dad's last stay in the hospital, we visited almost every floor and area. We started on the 3rd floor, went to ICU, and ended up on the 4th floor after the feeding tube procedure in an operating room. In our first room, we were finding random entertainment. Someone in the room noticed the crucifix. Quickly, it was noted how much dust was on Jesus. Clearly, it had been an eternity since any attention was given to the crucifix by housekeeping. As we began rubbing our fingers across the top of wall hanging analyzing the amount of dust, Dad broke out into song, Southern Gospel style....

Ain't no dust on my Jesus,

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

Ain't no dust on my Jesus, 

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

We all broke into laughter and began singing the song with him! We noticed the dust in the ICU room and sang the song. We noticed the dust on the 4th floor, and we broke out into song. Most nurses that attended to Dad heard the song at one point or another. In fact, some began singing it with us!

The Baptist Rabbi told several visitors that this would be a title of a good sermon! Dad never missed a good chance to use a funny story as the basis of a powerful message! 

There is a lot to be said about dust on our Jesus. Holding Jesus close to us during these past few months has been super easy. When times of trouble hit, we are all prone to pick up our relationship with Him, gather the dust rag, make Him clean and shiny, and hold Him close as we pray for a resolution to our current situation. But what happens when we are on life's mountaintops? Do we carry Jesus equally as close, or do we tend to let Him sit and collect dust, waiting for our next immediate need?

There is one thing for sure. At the Baptist Rabbi's house, there was very little dust. No dust on the furniture, no dust on the floor, and definitely no dust on Jesus. The Baptist Rabbi and his wife hold Jesus close both in the good times and bad. They taught me that being a Christian is not a checklist of actions, but it is a close relationship with Jesus that is constant over time, not based on conditional circumstances.

As we enter this weekend, may we all take just a few moments to make sure there is no dust on our Jesus. Whether we are in the midst of a valley or a mountaintop, He is there waiting to grow closer to each of us. May we all sing the Baptist Rabbi's gospel spiritual song with confidence:

Ain't no dust on my Jesus,

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for teaching me the power of removing dust! 

                            (After the dusting in ICU!)

Update on the Baptist Rabbi and his wife:  Dad has gained 10 pounds on the feeding tube!!! Praises!! He is adjusting well, although he did cheat on Drew's birthday and ate a few bites of oreo ice cream!! He has begun a new swallow therapy called VitalStim, which we hope proves to be successful in increasing his swallowing ability. A group of wonderful friends, including Gary Bowers, Steve Page, Jack Jones, and Carolyn Braden, are helping with the transportation to doctor appointments and therapy. I am forever grateful to them for their help while I am at work.

Mom has completed her first cataract surgery and will have the second one on February 15. Lindsey Denton has been a lifesaver in getting her to the beauty shop each week! And for those of you who know my Mom, this is the most important activity of the week! She may struggle with mobility, but her hair looks FABULOUS! :)