Two Weeks

 
Two weeks after I started my blog I became part of a search party who went out looking for mom who had dementia and had wandered from home.  She could not be left alone.  Each of us worked out a schedule so that someone would always be with her.

Two weeks after this year started mom was released from the hospital and spent her last night at the house she’d lived in for over fifty years. It had been on a Sunday when Ellen found my mom passed out and called for Nate to assist.  Patrick ended up taking her to the hospital.  He and Nate were both dressed for church but stayed at the hospital all day. They did not go to Church that day. Patrick had chosen to stay with mom. On Monday mom’s four children worked together to fill out the paperwork to move mom into assisted living. On Wednesday Kayla took mom to her new home at the assisted living facility – the last place she would live. And Corey came from Las Vegas to assist and say good-bye to the house. 

Two weeks ago we lay mom to rest - buried beside my dad.  She’d been rushed to the hospital two weeks prior to that.  It was on a Sunday when she was found passed out on the floor. She'd been rushed to the hospital. Patrick met her at there.   He was dressed for church but stayed at the hospital all day.  He did not go to Church that day.  He had chosen to stay with mom. He took the next two weeks off.  And Corey drove from Las Vegas to say good-bye.  We all spent time with her for 7-10 days.  And then she finally let go.

Two weeks ago Corey and Kayla and I met Fern and Michelle at the Mortuary.  We watched Corey and the Mortician dress my mom.  Michelle applied some lipstick – that’s all that was needed.  Mom looked like she always does when she falls asleep. She still has her purse.

Two weeks ago we talked with family and friends who had come to pay their last respects.  Sunny offered a beautiful prayer before we all went into the chapel. I tied mom’s bow and veiled her face – my final act of service for her.  The lid was closed.  I think Brian cried the hardest. His sobs just seemed louder than the rest - maybe because he's a giant.

 Two weeks ago today we paid our last respects and shared our stories and beautiful thoughts for such a marvelous woman.  Daddy’s birthday was the day after the farewell services.  It was on a Sunday. Corey had planned to spend this week with mom. Instead she's spending it with dad.  We miss you mom! (and dad)

Welcome to the 21st Century!

            I was never hospitalized as a child – except for when I was born.  But until I gave birth to Jenna, I had never been a hospital patient.  But I do remember visiting various hospital patients.  I remember that there was more than one patient to a room and only a thin curtain separated the patients from one another.  Each patient wore a plastic bracelet that would protect the descriptive paper that identified the patient’s name and medical information.  There were clip boards that hung from the foot of each bed.

Patients were asked if they preferred smoking or non-smoking rooms.  And visitation was always limited to certain hours and certain ages. 

            Today each patient has his or her own room.  They wear bands made of unrippable material somewhere between paper and plastic foam.  It contains bar codes which are scanned each time the patient is given medicine or surgery, blood and urine samples and so forth – possibly meals (that way it can all get charged to the final bill) No longer are stupid clip board kept at the foot of the bed.  Everything is done by scanners and computers. It’s so cool to see how technology has evolved.

            The hospital that mom was in is a no smoking zone – the entire hospital and property.  That’s pretty cool.  I think that’s a great revelation that has come to pass. 

 

            As I mentioned, at least one of my sibs was always with my mom around the clock – which meant spending the night.  I had three members of my family spend the night with me before Jenna was born.  Roland and my mom were both in chairs.  I think Kayla spent the night on the floor.

Not all hospitals have joined this century, I suppose.  When my granddaughter was born, Tony wasn’t allowed to watch the birth.  Talk about old-school.  That’s the way it was when I was born.  Dad’s had to wait in another room.

            I’m not quite certain if I remember from real life or if it was just from the television that I remember the dorky hats that the nurses were required to wear, and the crisp white uniforms – often wondering if they had spare uniforms in their cars or their lockers in order to remain clean and white - as it was never obvious that they had been around barf or blood.    Today they wear colorful scrubs or sometimes nice street clothes.

            Perhaps it’s not the same in all hospitals, but those are some of the observations that I made while my mom was dying at St. Mark’s Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah.  That was actually the same hospital where Patrick and I were born.

Raindrops

I hear the clouds crashing
I think it's going to rain
I look outside above me
The skies are blue and
There is sunshine

Later I go outside to see
Raindrops on my driveway and
The sun is shining still.
I am lightly kissed by
a few drops
The breeze feels nice but
the sun melts away all the
drops as well as myself

Where are the rainbows?

                                                                        kfralc

                                                                       

No One Can Make You Feel Inferior Without Your Concent and yet . . .

fund raisers seem necessary

for raising money for

different causes

charities 

one may go from door to door

seeking collections

usually with product that

no one wants or

can afford  or

doesn’t like     

parties at both ends

feel emotion   

the recipient fells bad that

he can’t contribute     

or feels anger towards

the very idea of

having walked across

the room to open

the door to something he

may not even believe in         

or resentment because he

has purchased the product

when he knows it could

have been used more wisely              

the seller (or cause promoter)

either gives up because

she is discouraged that

no one wants to buy  

or else she continues

but with an attitude full

of regret and resentment and

eventually cries because

not being able to raise funds

has made her feel like a failure

Fund Raisers Should Not Stir

Up Emotion in Such a Negative Way

missionary work seems necessary

for the benefit of

saving souls 

one may go from

door to door preaching

the gospel and

sharing a message that

others may not know 

those individuals on

each side of the door

feel emotions  

the one inside

of the house

feels anger towards

the very idea of

having waked across

the room to open

the door to something he or

she may not believe in

or resentment because she

doesn’t feel the need to

change and feels that she is

being told to

change her ways         

the missionary often feels

like giving up because

he is discouraged that

no one seems to want

to hear the gospel or

else the missionary may

continue with diligence and

prayer sometimes feeling

regret and may eventually

come to resent the church

Sacrifice and Service

Should Not Stir Such

Negative Emotion

we are told that

we must be sealed

in the temple and

we are taught that

families are forever and

we are taught to live a

certain way so that

we may enter into

the temple but sometimes

there are those who

enter by themselves

because the family members

don’t always lead the same values

or maybe they do but

there is one part that

doesn’t seem in

harmony with the gospel

Our loved ones stand

outside feeling emotions

of anger

or respect

or admiration

or exclusion

wondering why a church

that promotes families

don’t allow the family members

see their loved ones get married

and those inside

wish that their

loved ones could share

in their happy moment

and may one day

resent having excluded

certain family members and

may one day be

outside the walls

themselves

We Should Never Feel

Discrimination.  God

Doesn’t Discriminate.

Man Does.

A Thin Coat of Paint

I wouldn’t say that I’m a “friend” of scouting

I think Hannah is the one who made the announcement that “you are not an acquaintance of scouting, but a “friend” of scouting” 

“No I’m not,” I thought.  I have truly never been a friend.  I’ve actually had regrets about it.

I think the scouting program is a great program for those who truly want to be involved.  I guess the thing that has always bothered me the most about scouting is all the hoopla and fuss that seems to go with it.  It would be fine if there was an equal amount of hoopla given to those not even associated with scouts – if that is what’s desired. (Some of us don’t like hoopla and fuss; my brother Patrick and his oldest son truly loved scouting and were heavily involved.  My brother Corey and nephew Brian appear to have reached a point where they almost loathed it)

The boy scout program was adaptedby the LDS church in 1913 and cub scouts were adopted as a part of the primary in 1952. None of the other Church organizations require a uniform or guidelines from outside of the Church.

My mom had been a den mother to the boys when Patrick was in scouts.  I was involved in many of their activities.  It didn’t seem to be a big deal for non-scout members to participate when their parents were the leaders.  I enjoyed hanging around with them and meeting with them once a week and I especially enjoyed activities such as climbing the trail to the Timpenogous Cave or visiting Pioneer Village (located in Sugarhouse at the time) and stopping off at Snelgroves for an afterward treat.  As a recall, the majority of the boys got double scoop cones with blue bubblegum and black licorice flavored ice creams. 

I don’t remember ever feeling envious that the focus on the boys seemed to outshine the focus on the girls.  I usually always had a better time with boys than girls anyhow.  I suppose I did feel left out at times when cub scouts would earn rewards and there was always a ceremony for their achievements – not that I felt the need for a badge or material satisfaction.  I just remember sometimes wondering why so many thought the boys were so great and allowed the girls to sit on the back burner or barely be mentioned.

We didn’t have activity days – which may have been created to run parallel to the scouting program.  I don’t know.  With the girls – be it Activity Days or Young Women – the leaders focus needs to be on the girls.  Leaders should be without children when serving the girls.  So why can the scouts include non-scouts in their activities but the girls cannot? So perhaps it’s okay that they hold scouts every week while the girls hold Activity Days only twice a week.

When we moved into our current ward, I would have Jenna with me while attending Relief Society.  The scout leader invited her to participate in the activities that were planned the same night as Relief Society.  And so Jenna happily believed she was a scout.

I tried enrolling Jenna into the girl scouts program as she was not of age to participate in Activity Days – but was not successful in finding a good fit.  Oh, she enjoyed the few activities we had gone to, but we have always done things as a Juliette.  I still haven’t been able to find a good troop for her. I don't believe it is ever something I had wanted for myself, but Jenna and I have our differences.

Jenna has since had the opportunity to attend activity days and would love to attend every week.  In her mind it isn’t fair that boys get to meet every week.

We had gone to the Church Museum the day before school started.  There were two exhibits featuring the boy scouts – both of which she refused to attend out of rebellion.  She’s nine years old.  She doesn’t understand that boys (in general) seem to need more structure and may be in scouting  their entire lives and still not “get it”  whereas there’s a compassion or understanding or structure that seem to come more naturally to most girls.  But still . . .

Fund Raisers with the boys scouts happen with or without the church.  The boys go from door to door trying to raise money for their organization.  And certainly the girls will have fund raisers when they get into Young Women, but it’s not going door to door collecting money with only a receipt that may or may not be a tax write-off. 

The girls work hard and may involve others to donate baked goods or other items.  They sell product.  

Recently I read a post in which permission was given to share a post from a closed blog.  The following was brought up:

• meeting frequency- scouts are advised to meet weekly, while activity day girls are directed to meet NO MORE than twice a month

• activity types- scouting is a structured program with a clear directive to have activities of many differing types, activity days has no directive whatsoever other than "work on Faith in God for girls." The boys also have this program, but just happen to have scouting as well.

 
• recognition and awards- cub scouting is famous for its intricate advancement and award system, AD has no such system

 
• budgeting- do these programs have equal budgets?

 
• leaders- would a couple ever be called to lead AD groups? Why do boys have access to leaders of both genders, while girls do not? Also, cub scouts have a much higher ratio of leaders to boys than AD girls do

 
• formal, parent-attended pack meetings- there is no similar equivalent in the AD program.

 
• the Church's website- there was tab after tab on the church's primary page devoted to explaining and promoting Cub Scouting, but barely a mention of the AD program. You have to click on 'leader resources' and if you scroll down to the bottom, there's a SINGLE LINK that takes you to the SINGLE PARAGRAPH from Handbook 2 that gives direction on AD programs for leaders, and there's not much in that paragraph either.

 

I know that boys and girls are different – and my interpretation was not that the opinions are to treat both genders as equals but allow equal time, equal budgeting, equality in organization – not in person.  We’re all individuals who hopefully support and lift one another.  “Scouting” does not “lift” me however – or at least the political aspect and blown out manner that might send the message to some girls that they are lower class and not as important.

It is said that no one can make you feel inferior without your consent, and yet there are some members of this church who feel discrimination because there seems to be a lack of equality. And not just with our attitude towards scouting. (I've actually mentioned the feelings of discrimination in several posts.)

These are just some of my thoughts.  I have more.  Lots more.  But I had to borrow somebody else’s words to get this post. The ideas I have (or had) are so disjointed still.  I apologize that this entry may not sound polished at all.

Flooded With Thoughts . . . again

After two weeks

my head is

full of thoughts

again. 

Granted they are

different thoughts

but still enough

swimming through

my mind and

it’s overflowing with

new thoughts

new ideas

unlike the ones

before this

month started. 

Thoughts about

my mom’s

farewell

departure and

about the change

in song and

why and how

happy I was that

Joh got to sing “Smile”

instead of

“Embraceable You”

which evidently was

mom’s favorite, but

I like “Smile” better

and I love Joh’s

voice and he gave

such an awesome

introduction as to

why he was

singing it.  He

didn’t say that 

“Embraceable You” is

not acceptable music to

sing in the chapel.

I think Corey

was upset, but I

quite enjoyed it. 

I’m certain that

my mom did too.

Angels Come in all Shapes and Sizes

Many of the staff members referred to him as “the Lady Killer” which I thought was a euphemism for womanizer.  Until he started telling me of his other “love interests” who had each passed away (and now mom) I didn’t realize that “Lady Killer” was really a metaphor for “the Angel of Death” I asked him if he was.  He just laughed.

He said there was one he developed an interest in before mom – but she wasn’t ready to die and chose not to go with him.  But when he found my mom he found her true beauty.  They were inseparable – until the fall . . .

He knew she was dying.  And Madge knew.  The only two residents that are fully aware and haven’t seemed to slip into any kind of dementia stage.  Apparently they had both been in other facilities but felt overwhelmed and asked the family to put them somewhere smaller.

Madge’s family had put her there due to her constant falling.  She knows the code.  She says all one has to do is stand and watch and they can figure it out.  They can if their minds work like hers does.  But even Harold’s is slipping.  He’s still sharp.  And he cares deeply for my mom.  He’s also been aware that it was time to let go.

He is an angel – he made mom so happy.  He was a godsend - watching not over mom – but several of the residence.  Pulling the cord for them to call for assistance when needed.  Watching out for others.  Helping others feel better about themselves.

Like Yoda, he needs an assistance to help him walk. He uses a walker with built in seat.  Beneath his seat he stores things such as pictures and dog treats.  He used to store candy but was told to get rid of it after the fall.  When mom was found on the floor with a blood count of 399.  It wasn’t Harold’s fault. But it wasn’t known at the time.

I don’t know what his true height is.  I suspect that even if he was straightened out, he’d still be shorter than mom.  Corey made the comment that he just didn’t think Harold was someone that mom would choose to hang with pre dementia.

The family would like to thank you, Harold.  You made my mom happy.  She really did like living there. You truly are an angel.