Remembering the Meeting

          I don’t know how long my brothers had power of attorney for my mom’s welfare when she had dementia. I don’t know if it was when she was still living at home or after we put her into assisted living.  I don’t know if I can find the exact date in my file or not.  I do remember all four of her children had gone downtown for a visitation with an attorney.

          There was concern about finances and how long we would be able to keep her in assisted living and if we could rely on state contribution in the future should the money run out – and just how long would we have before the state could/would assist.  It was a first visit for me and my sister.  I don’t know if my brothers had met with the attorney before in person or if things were done over the phone.  I don’t recall – though I’m certain my youngest brother remembers the details vividly.  He just seems to have an Hyperthymesia memory.

          I remember the session was scheduled for three hours.  Apparently they do that with family members leaving them time to squabble – which was never part of our circumstances.  We agreed upon things according to our faith, our values, and respect for not only our parents but each other as well.  We did not need the full three hours.  In fact, just after the attorney sat down and gave some council and asked if we had any questions before proceeding, I spoke up.  I said it was probably out of the ordinary but could we please start off with a word of prayer.

          That in itself made a huge difference.  The attorney was taken aback to our behavior and agreement.  Being the state executor had been hard on the one brother and asked if he could turn that over to the youngest who already had power of attorney but the attorney advised that the power of attorney and executor not be the same person.  But we were okay with it.  All four of us could sign whatever had to be signed.  The attorney said that in all his years of practice that he had only gotten through one other family as quickly as with ours.

          We put mom in a facility that we could afford.  I think they were understaffed and not so much individualized as other care facilities we had looked into.  But the staff did their best and we certainly don’t cast any blame.  Quite the contrary.  We are grateful to how things were handled.

          My youngest brother researched mom’s condition.  He said there were seven stages.  He said that he believed that mom was in stage five – which was actually a fun stage – which we chose to view it as. We thought mom would live in assisted living for many years – which was a big concern when we had met with the attorney.  But she was in assisted living for only nine months before she passed.  We did not have to see her go through stages 6 or 7 which we all considered a huge blessing.

          It’s quite an odd memory that I would think about.  I just had always wondered if there was a connection between Metformin and Dementia.  There were five individuals who lived on the same street – one had Alzheimers and the other four had another form of dementia. The four that had dementia all had diabetes – though I can’t  if all four took Metforim.  I know for certain that at least one did.  The one with Alzheimers lived the longest.  I don’t know if she was diabetic or not.

          It’s just something I often think about though I would like to let it go. But sometimes it haunts me.

Feeling Inspired

                In April I was asked to outline the RS lessons to correspond

with Come Follow Me lessons. 

I had only my notes and the titles of the 2020 “Don’t Miss This” Episodes.

It was right after general conference and so I didn’t have the titles of

the talks we had picked,

only the speakers.

Of course I prayed for inspiration on where to put the 11 or 12 conference talks that

we had picked for our lessons. 

There were six that were definitely set in stone but wasn’t quite certain

how to place the other talks. 

This week’s theme was spot on as the reading in Come Follow Me was on the Strippling Warriors (starting here) and the RS lesson was from this talk.  

Miracles Have Not Ceased

             Our Relief Society lesson last week was taken from Shayne Bowen’s talk on miracles, angels and priesthood (here).  The same talk was used for one of the talks given during sacrament meeting. An inactive member made the comment that she was meant to be there that day as the message was given twice.  It was a good lesson and I reflected on miracles past and present.  Miracles happen every day. Some are obviously more powerful than others.

            When Jaime was still a baby Richard and I had been called as ward missionaries.  Primary baptisms were done at a stake level, but if for some reason only one ward had youth being baptized when the head position was out of town, the ward missionaries were asked to fill the font.  The font took roughly two hours to fill.

            One Saturday I had forgotten my assignment of filling the font – which normally I did as Richard always seemed to be working.  I don’t even know who called to ask if I had the keys to the stake center.  When I arrived there were about forty or so people waiting outside and I was crying.  The font filled quicker than it had ever done – I’m sure due to the prayers of those who had stood around waiting.  That was a miracle.

            About six months before my mom passed I had taken the car into a transmission place.  I paid for a diagnosis test and learned that fix the damage would be roughly 6,000 dollars.  We did not have that much income or credit.  Fixing the car wasn’t going to happen – and yet I needed something to drive. I prayed over that car more times than I care to admit – before driving Jaime to school, before driving out to see my mom . . . you get the gist. It was the car I drove as Richard used the Saturn.

            Four days after my mom’s funeral I took the Saturn as it was behind.  I knew that Richard had an appointment to take my oldest son to inquire about another car.  I was visiting with my sister-in-law when I received a phone call about the other car – the one I had prayed over each time I left the house or wherever I was at.  The car was dead.  No big surprise to my ears.  I left my brother’s house and returned home.

            The following day my eldest son pushed the car to the transmission place around the corner.  Now, in Utah (in my experience with most dealers in Salt Lake) once you have paid the fee the history of the car is wiped out from the files of the dealer (mechanic, whatever) but in this case the guy not only remembered me but was able to look the diagnostic up.  He asked me how long it had been since I had replaced the fuel pump.  I didn’t even know what he was talking about.  I told him that I hadn’t replaced anything or did any kind of work since the diagnosis six months earlier.

His jaw seemed to drop to the counter as he unbelievably asked, “How have you been driving around all this time?”

“Prayer”

Recently Richard and I went and saw “Unsung Hero”.  It is a remarkable story full of miracles. The filming also consisted of just as many miracles as explained here. So awe inspiring.  All of it.               

         Miracles take place each time I drive or walk out the door and don’t fall as I cross my yard.  Plant life is a miracle.  Cooled down weather is a miracle.  Thoughts shared on facebook that I may read at just the right time.  A loaf of baked bread. 

I am grateful for all the miracles large and small.