Balance

Striking the proper balance is one of the keenest tests of our agency.”

  Neal A. Maxwell

 My youngest two daughters were dancers and I learned from them that the ability to balance increased with a strong ‘center.’  Pilates and Yoga were used to strengthen the abdominal muscles which allowed them to maintain balance in a variety of graceful poses.  I’ve never suffered from a shortage of things that need doing but I have struggled with trying to balance a  never-ending stream of demands on my time.

 The process of bearing and rearing seven children took every ounce of strength, physically and mentally, that I could muster and was truly a full time job. The challenge of providing for just the basic physical needs and medical care of a growing family on one income necessitated that I grow, can, dry and freeze food; sew, mend and alter hand-me-down clothes; and glean what necessities I could from yard sales and thrift stores.  Homemade & made-from-scratch took extra time.  And there was more-- the demands of family had to be balanced with my covenants to serve the Lord in any way I can AND the demands of P.T.A., school volunteering, neighborhood and community, cub scouts, 4-H, children’s sports and activities.  Tasks had to be dove-tailed with caring for children, preparing lessons for church classes or preparing for endless activities.

 I never felt I balanced everything as well as I would have liked but, for me, the key was and is, as it is for dancers, a strong center.  All I do must be shaped by understanding who I am in relation to God; why I am here on earth; and where God has prepared for me to go when the test of mortality ends.   At the very core, I have come to know that God lives and is my Father.  He has sent me to earth to learn by my own experience good from evil and in so doing, to learn to choose the good; grow to become more like him; and help others to return to his presence.  My knowledge of and relationship to God, my Father, is my center.  When my relationship with God, is close and strong, I can balance the demands of life with more precision and calm.  When I am not close to God (it is not He who has moved)--  I struggle more to maintain balance. So the answer to maintaining balance in my life is the same as the answer to all life’s challenges: Always make time to prayerfully ponder the scriptures; feed the mind and spirit with uplifting music and thoughts; and seek to know what the Lord would have me do.  When I am TOO BUSY, even with good and noble work, to heed the Lord’s command to, “BE STILL, and know that I am God” (Psalms 46:10)--  my life is out of balance.

Roses in December

“God gave us Memories so that we’d have Roses in December.”  James M. Barrie

 

Rose bushes in our northern climate are dormant in December.  Their branches are devoid not only of blooms but even of leaves.   Only the bare thorny branches  brace themselves against the bitter cold and winter storms.   However, even as I ponder the stark thorns, I can smell the luscious scent and marvel at the rich palette of color that enlivens that corner of the garden.  How powerful and healing are memories!  What a precious gift our Heavenly Father has given us!  Things will not always be as they are and when facing the Decembers of this mortal life, like hot cocoa and a down comforter, memories made years ago and savored now, warm my soul. 

 

Currently I help care for a dying father who is frail, dependent and not in his right mind.  I came across an old photo of me riding on his shoulders carrying a bouquet of wild flowers as he walked through a wooded area.  My childhood feelings of warmth and security flowed through me again as I remembered- remembered when he was young and strong and I was small  and dependent;  remembered when our lives and relationship were different; remembered was life was new and an adventure.  Remembering my father as young and strong also created a vision for me of the time to come when he will be raised up in the resurrection.  Through our Savior’s gift to all, he will be whole again- body, mind and spirit- and glorious beyond what we have known here and in the future we will again explore and enjoy nature together.

 

It occurred to me that memories of the best of times can be invoked purposely as a way to shield myself from despair, discouragement and depression.  It is especially helpful for me to remember how I FELT at the joyful times in my life.  From the big milestones of God and family life to the littlest joys and triumphs, memories have the power to lighten current burdens and restore perspective.   Difficult times are part of the plan of growth in mortality and will not cease until our turn on earth is finished.  But God gave us memories so that even the darkest, coldest times can be softened.    When our children were young, we used to watch home movies or slides every Sunday night, where we could rehearse the events as each child entered the family and grew up to share vacations, birthdays and Christmases.  As the older children became teens, they lost interest in this practice and it gradually faded away.  Now, I think I shall renew the practice of watching old movies (which we’ve had transferred to video) and thumbing through old photograph books.

 

My husband and I were young once.  I have photos to prove it.  Remembering how it feels to be so fully in love with my husband and how it felt when started off our life together so full of eagerness and feeling ready to face anything as long as we could be together, brings back those feelings and renews the joy of our journey together as we face the challenges of aging.  Remembering reminds me to enjoy all that this day has to offer.  As I remember good times and feelings, my mood is elevated- I am happier.  Remembering also evokes gratitude for the Father’s plan- which ensures that although sorrow is a necessary learning experience in this life, all sorrows are temporary and the best is yet to come!    

Perspective

"It is very important that we not assume the perspectives of mortality in making the decisions that bear on eternity!"       Neal Maxwell

The same event can be viewed and interpreted from polar opposites.  It's all in our perspective.  We don't see the whole picture.  God does.  Searching his revealed word to understand who we are, why we are here and what comes next helps me see the events of mortal living in context of eternity.  It shapes my perspective.

My father is dying from lung cancer.  The diagnosis of cancer was slow in coming and by the time it was verified, the cancer had was wrapped around the aorta, tangled with nerve and vascular tissue and had spread to two lymph nodes.  It is one of a few cancers that some how causes an autoimmune response that attacks the brain resulting in sudden onset of dementia.  The oncologist solemnly laid out our options- aggressive chemo and radiation which may possibly prolong his life at the sacrifice of the quality of that life OR we could allow the disease to run its course, preserving the quality and comfort of the remaining months as far as possible.  With my father’s frailty, blindness and dementia, the oncologist suggested the only real option was to call hospice to help us all through this process.  Dad had drawn up a living will years before specifying his wishes to avoid medical intervention to preserve life at the expense of the quality of that life.   We talked with other family members and decided to let the cancer run its course.  We felt this was the respectful and compassionate thing to do.  

That was almost three months ago. There have been inquiries about his health and ‘treatment.’    There are many mixed emotions, not the least of which is the feeling that we should be DOING something.  Something other than waiting for him to die.  Did we make the right decision?   Each time I help him settle near the gas fireplace in his recliner and adjust the electric blanket we bought to keep him warm, I realize how cozy and serene his surroundings are.  We ARE doing something.  We are helping him to live comfortably with his familiar chair, radio and “talking books.”  His appetite has actually increased and we keep his favorite foods on hand.  He wants cookies and chocolate candy-  things he had no desire for as a young man- so we bake fresh cookies often.  Once in awhile he wants to go out to MacDonalds or Taco Bell.  One unusually warm February afternoon we took him outside for a walk in the wheelchair. We eventually did call hospice and they send a nurse to check on him twice a week and supplies, such as oxygen, the wheelchair and shower chair, are delivered to the house along with all of his medications.  He HATES waiting rooms and it has been such a blessing to have the medical needs addressed right at home. 

It is a simple existence but it is free from pain, needles, chemo-caused nausea and radiation burns.  He is free from the smells and discomforts of a hospital room and can doze in his favorite chair with our daughter’s small dog on his lap.  He sleeps next to my mother at night in a soft, warm bed, gets up when he is ready and goes to bed when he is tired.  Grandchildren and Great-grandchildren stop in for visits and ask questions about the ‘old days’- a subject upon which he can still talk clearly.  Love is expressed and understood. 

Neal Maxwell died of cancer.  He once remarked, “It is very important that we not assume the perspectives of mortality in making the decisions that bear on eternity!  We need the perspectives of the gospel to make decisions in the context of eternity.”   God does not intend for our mortal experience to last forever.  It is time of learning, growing, testing.  If the final test is cancer, it is simply the last mortal step before returning to God and home.  As we minister to my father during his last difficult trial, we feel not despair but peace.  We feel the veil between heaven and earth grow thinner; and the spirit of the Lord whispers, “All is Well.”

Our Joy is not yet full BUT it WILL BE

“We will often find compensation if we think more of what life has given us and less about what life has taken away.”  William Barclay

 

Dementia is a horrific condition.  However, like all great losses in life, there are small compensations and there is hope that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, pain and sorrow are temporary.  My Father, who is both blind and suffering from a deteriorating mind, struggles to make sense of what goes on around him.  There are lucid moments, primarily when talk of events that happened decades ago.   Mostly, however, he is lost, confused and ‘seeing’ a reality that he can’t convince us exists.  He HAD such a great mind- read prolifically, preferring history and other non-fiction and loved to discuss great ideas and events.  It is painful to see him struggle to carry on a coherent dialogue.  My mother and I took him with us when we went with one of my daughters and her husband to look at houses since they are preparing to move.  We were talking about some houses that were listed in Syracuse.  “How far are we from Manhattan,?” my Dad asked.  “About 2,000 miles,” I responded without thinking.

 

Then it dawned on me.  He grew up in upstate New York and Syracuse was the one familiar clue he latched onto from our conversations.  Syracuse, New York.  He can’t see where he is.  But Syracuse, New York is a place he knows.  I explained that we were in Syracuse, Utah, causing him to slip back into his broken world, wondering how he could possibly be in Utah.  He struggles to latch onto the familiar while he works to piece together SOMETHING that makes sense. 

 

As horrific as this must be for him and is for us, there is something precious that stands out to us. Although his brain and reason are being eaten away, the essence of his personality, the essence of who he is, bubbles up to the surface.  Some of my grandchildren were visiting us and the oldest boy left with his friend’s family to get a ride to a scout meeting.  My father became very agitated, questioning the children’s mother, wanting to know if she knew who had taken the children.  My mother kept reassuring her no one had taken the children, that they were right here.  But he wouldn’t leave it alone until my daughter assured him that she knew the family very well who had picked up her son and she would never let her children go with strangers.  That calmed him down.  We saw his characteristic concern for the children demonstrated.  

 

Another time he worried about why Mom had been gone so long to shower, “because she wasn’t THAT dirty.”    One night he was knocking on our bedroom door and when I got up to see what was wrong, he asked if we had a flashlight.  “Yes, what do you need it for?” I asked.  “My sister went across the street to take a shower and I want to check on her to make sure she is okay.”   At that moment, my mother opened the bathroom door and assured him that SHE had been taking a shower and was done now and everything was fine.  He has always been a worrier and although circumstances now confuse him, his worry over his family is still evident.

 

He frequently instructs my mother to give me money for groceries and gas. His lifetime habit of ‘caring for his own’ and  ‘paying his own way’ continue despite the dementia.  He has always been the protector of his family.  There are brief windows of lucidity when he questions what is happening to him and he seems to grasp for a moment that he is dying of cancer.  During those moments, he asks questions about the financial security of my mother, his wife of 63 years.  He wants to make sure she has a place to live and is able to meet her needs.  He wants to make sure that she will be okay and will be taken care of.

 

He has always had a wry sense of humor and enjoys a good joke.  A couple times while discussing the fact that he and Mom are now living with us, after assuring him that we are not kidding, he comes out with, “Well, you’re in for trouble now.”  He also has always loved the outdoors and nature.  He gently pets my daughter’s tiny lap dog that snuggles on his lap and asks if the “little dog” is okay or needs to go out.  He talks about the wonderful trip we had to Monterey this morning where we enjoyed a beautiful piece of coastline.

 

I wish he could see and have his sound mind and we could walk the dog and walk the rocky coast near Monterey again but I am grateful that at least his memories can carry him there and no matter what the cancer is doing to his brain, it cannot erase who he is.  Most of all, I am grateful to a loving Heavenly Father and his son, Jesus Christ, who bore our grief and pain that it will be swallowed up in His victory over death and suffering.  Our joyous reunion beyond the veil of death where we will see my father again and he will SEE and know us will be all the more glorious because we have watched his mind and body fail now.  We will know the greatness of the gift of the resurrection of his mind and body to their perfect state and will rejoice together in gratitude and joy.