Journal: A Step Forward, A Step Back

 

Early Tuesday morning found me getting ready to head to Loren’s house to start the Great Cleaning Out.  It wasn’t going to be quick, because 1) there was a whole lot of stuff, 2) some of it would go to the Salvation Army, and 3) some of it would go to family members.  Before they died, both Janice and Norma, Loren’s late wives who passed away in 2014 and 2020, respectively, had told various ones about items they wished them to have.  As it turned out, there would be a lot of jetsam and flotsam, too. 

Have you ever noticed that people who went through the wartimes and the Great Depression save things the rest of us toss out?  Furthermore, have you noticed that the offspring of those people often do the same thing?  Boxes, for example.  I do believe Loren and Janice saved the box of every new item they ever purchased.  Some came in handy for packing figurines that in turn went to the Salvation Army or the Goodwill.  Most have by now made their way to the Columbus Landfill.

I didn’t scan any pictures last week, nor did I take any; so the pictures in this letter are from a recently scanned album from August of 1995, when we took a vacation to Colorado.

Everything went well when Larry took Loren to Edgewood Memory Care Tuesday morning, some time after 9:00 a.m.  Larry explained that he had to go to work, and was dropping Loren off at the home.  He told him they needed him there to help them, and named several things Loren could do to ‘help’. 

“Yikes,” I said, “Do you think the workers there will like you, when they find out you told him that?!”  😂

The first thing I did when I got to Loren’s house was to pack up some clothes and necessities for him, and then Larry and I took them to the nursing home. 

I went back to Loren’s house to begin clearing things out, while Larry headed to Genoa to meet someone who wanted to buy a piece of equipment.  Hannah, Joanna, and Teddy came to help with the housecleaning, along with Janice’s sister Judy.

We wanted Judy to have anything of Janice’s that she wanted.  She’s done everything she could to help with Loren ever since Janice died in 2014, and she’s not so well herself.  She’s a generous and kind person, as is the rest of her family.

I worked at Loren’s house until about 7:30 p.m.  By then, hips and back were protesting so vigorously I could barely put one foot in front of the other.  We’d made a dent in things, but only a small one.

Wednesday morning, feeling decidedly creaky, I turn the showerhead up to ‘hard pulse’ and the heat up to ‘willy, willy hot’.  I had things to bring in from the BMW that I hadn’t felt like hauling in the night before, and things to drop off at the Salvation Army. 

On the way to town, I stopped at Edgewood to see Loren.  He was doing all right, though they told me he had asked to go home that morning.  I took him some of the pictures he’d gotten in his Christmas cards, a new Reader’s Digest, and a printout from Grace Gems devotional from Monday on ‘Christian Contentment’.

He was amazed I had found him there.  I said Larry had told me where he was.  “It’s a very nice place, and we were very happy to find it,” I said.  “These people will help you when you need anything, and they’ll feed you well.” 

He nodded and said, “Yes, they do!”

I told him that he had the opportunity to repay kindnesses here, because there were people there who could use a word of compassion.

He smiled and nodded, and didn’t seem unhappy when I left.

Oh!  Whataya know, I did take a picture last week.  I took a picture of this tall stuffed bear and sled.  I sent it to Hester, writing, “Would you like this?  It’s like brand new.  It’s taller than Keira.”

Hester wrote back, “That’s super cute!!!  But I think it might go better at Lydia’s house, if she wants it.”

So I wrote to Lydia, “Would you like this?  It’s about as tall as Malinda, and it looks like new.”

She responded, “Sure!  That would look cute upstairs.  😊”  (They have a balcony that overlooks the front entryway.)

So, on my way home later that day, I perched it on Lydia’s front porch.

Teddy helped again that day, working in the garage; and Hannah and two of her boys, Nathanael and Levi, stopped by to pick up a big box of stuff.

I dropped off a load at the Goodwill, and brought a few things home. 

After church that night, Larry and I had a late supper and then went to Loren’s house with Larry’s pickup to gather up a bunch of garbage bags, as our garbage collectors come on Thursday, and Loren’s garbagemen wouldn’t come until today.

Poor old Tiger kitty was so happy and excited when I got home that day, he was running in and out of the garage door with me, up and down the steps – and he’s not the spring chicken he was a-thinkin’ he is.  He slipped and fell and hurt his back left haunch, and could hardly put any weight on it for a little while.  I thought he’d surely dislocated it, and I’d have to take him to the vet – and he’s never ridden in a car.

But I petted him gently with both hands so he’d hold still for a little while, and after a few minutes he was able to put weight on it again.  He was still limping a bit on that leg, but he’s all right.  He’s quite gimpy these days, and loses his balance easily.  Part of that is because he was so fat when he came to us, and I’m sure that did a number on his hips and knees.  And part of it is just because he’s getting old and creaky.  Poor old thing.  He has the sweetest temperament.

I headed for the feathers and tried to sleep quicker’n a wink, so as to alllllmost get eight hours of sleep before my alarm went off.

Thursday morning at a quarter ’til eight, it was -5°, with a wind chill of -16°.  Brrrrr.

Loren was sitting in the dining room beside another man when I got to the nursing home that morning, and was showing him the Reader’s Digest I’d left the day before.  He’d handed the man a Gurney’s Seed and Nursery Plant advertisement insert. 

When I walked up, he grinned and proceeded to introduce me:  “This is Sarah Lynn, my sister!”  The other man didn’t look up.  He was in his own little world, gazing down at the Gurney’s ad.  Loren tried again.  “This is my sister!  She’s 22 years younger than me.”

The man still didn’t look up, but tap-tap-tapped his finger on the large bush pictured on the ad.

Loren smiled at me.  “He’s counting tomatoes,” he said matter-of-factly.

I thought, Well, there’s his kind side that I hoped he would show everyone.

I told him I had something for him, something that I needed to set up in his room.  He wanted to carry it for me. 

“It’s not heavy,” I told him.  (But it is breakable.)

Loren led the way down the hall to his room – and he didn’t hesitate; he knew exactly where it was.  He walked in, flipped on the light, spotted his roommate lying in the other bed, said softly, “Oh!  He’s sleeping!” and flipped the light back off.

The other man didn’t budge; he went right on sleeping.  He was on oxygen, and had a clear mask over nose and mouth.

Two minutes later, Loren wanted to better see the cards I’d brought (Christmas cards he had not yet opened), so he marched over to the light switch and flipped it on, never giving the man in the other bed another thought.

The man in the other bed slept on.

I set up the digital photo frame on Loren’s bedside table, which I was glad to discover had a lip all the way around it that would keep the frame from sliding off the table.

Pictures of the mountains came on, and then a picture of our parents on their wedding day.  Loren pointed at it and said happily, “There’s Daddy and Mama!”

There was a nurse in the room cleaning the bathroom.  I told her about the frame, and asked if I could give her the remote. 

She pointed at the table.  “You could just put it there,” she advised.

I looked at Loren.  He was looking at us, listening, not paying a lick of attention to the pictures.  So I turned to the nurse, wide-eyed, and said, “Noooo!  He’ll eat it!”

Loren laughed, as I knew he would – and so did the nurse.  I told her quietly when Loren got distracted with the pictures, “He doesn’t know how to use remotes, and he’ll lose it, or try to shave with it, or something.”  So she put a label on it with a permanent marker and went away with it.

Of all the people I have seen in the home, Loren is by far the healthiest.  I was relieved that he seemed happy there.

Several people came to Loren’s house and helped clean and sort that day:  Robert and Margaret, Charles’ mother Sarah, Judy, and Hannah.  Larry came, too, when he got off work.

I found one of Loren’s favorite soft fleece blankets in his room.  Hannah took it with her, so she would have something to give him when she went to visit him. 

We left Loren’s house a little after 9:00 p.m., picked up some food at Arby’s, and went to Pawnee Park to eat it while sitting in the pickup watching random cars go by.  It almost felt like a date.

The temperature stayed below 10° that day.  At 1:00 a.m., it had gone back down to 4°.  The ‘real feel’ temp was 7 below 0.

Friday, it was approaching noon when I stopped to see Loren.  He was at one of the round tables with three of the women, and they had just been served their lunch.  I laid down a small handful of pictures for Loren.  He gladly picked up the top one and showed it around the table.  It was a picture of himself at age 14, looking out of a window at the Prairie Bible Institute in Three Hills, Alberta, Canada.

“This is me in Prairie Bible Institute in Alberta, Canada!” he said without hesitation.

He then introduced me to the others.

A nurse standing nearby asked him, “How many siblings do you have?”

Loren made a ‘who knows!’ gesture, shrugging and tossing up his hands, palms up.  “Oh, I have so many I can’t keep track of them all,” he said.

The nurse looked at me.  “We have one other brother and one other sister,” I said, thinking, Yes, do go on saying things like that, so they’ll know you belong here.  Sometimes he can seem so... normal!  Doesn’t usually last long, though.

That day, Hannah found the quilt Norma had made and was so concerned about before she passed away, tucked into the top shelf of a small, triangular closet.  The blocks are beautifully hand-embroidered.  I should take a picture of it, but it’s way over there (gesturing toward the living room) and I’m way over here (tapping chest), and, besides, it’s dark outside.  So another picture from Colorado will have to suffice:

Norma didn’t tell anyone who she wanted the quilt to go to (I’m purty sher that was real proper gramper), so I asked Larry what he thought we should do with it. 

“Let’s give it to Rhonda,” he decided.  “She’s the oldest, after all.”  He called his brother Kenny to see if he agreed.  Kenny did, so that’s what we will do with it.

Robert’s daughter Michelle stopped by.  She had her little girl Gracelynn with her.  There weren’t any toys at Loren’s house, but someone found a small United States flag on a stick that totally delighted her – and then we all played ‘Dodge the Stick’ while she toddled around waving the flag in glee.  She’s the cutest little thing.

I drove home that night with the BMW clear full.  I’d intended to make a drop at the Salvation Army that afternoon, and then refill the car; but suddenly I looked at the clock and it was 5:20 – and the Salvation Army and the Goodwill both close at 5:00 these days.  Bah, humbug. 

They think Covid marches about with much more vehemence after 5:00 p.m.

Saturday morning, my breakfast was a couple of slices of scrumptious Boston brown bread, made with nuts and raisins, that Judy had made and given me.  Tuesday she’d brought broccoli and cheese soup for our lunch, and Wednesday she had brought a long hoagie sandwich to share with us. 

That morning, Judy’s husband and son came and got a Lane hope chest that had been Janice’s.  We’d found a brass Lane key in a drawer a couple of days earlier, and it slid into the keyhole, but wouldn’t turn.  Maybe WD-40 will solve the problem.  If that fails, Andrew’s father, who has locksmith credentials, should be able to help them. 

We are hoping Judy will find Janice’s wedding gown in the chest.  Janice used their grandmother’s wedding gown to make an identical pattern, and then sewed her own wedding dress from that pattern.  If the gown is in there, Judy wants to donate it to our local museum, complete with pictures of her grandmother on her wedding day.

She also hopes to find many of her grandmother’s crocheted and tatted doilies in the chest.

I was driving back to Loren’s house from the Salvation Army late that afternoon when we received some bad news:  Loren was being discharged from the nursing home.  This, because he is what they call a ‘high-functioning dementia patient’, and he was too ambulatory for them to cope with.  This is precisely why other nursing homes in town would not accept him.

“That puts us in a bad situation,” I told the woman who called me, and explained that we’d been clearing out his house, and had no place for him to stay right then.  We would have to put things back and find someone to stay with him, and that would take a little while.  She told me she was sorry, and I said, “That’s all right, I understand.  It’s not your fault.” – and she started crying!  I was quite surprised.  I bet people have been hostile with her in such situations.

She asked for one of the family to come and stay with Loren until we were ready for him, and I said we would do that as soon as we could.

So... while Teddy, Hannah, Joanna, Larry, and I, and later Bobby and Aaron, too, launched a mad scramble to put things back in order so Loren could come back to his house, the lady, unbeknownst to me, called around and found nurses who could stay with Loren that night and part of the day Sunday.  We would have to pay them, of course.

I appreciated her helpfulness; she didn’t have to do that. 

I do understand the problem; but it’s not easy, having the rug jerked out from under us like this.

Along about 7:30 p.m., it occurred to me that I hadn’t had anything to eat since the Boston brown bread at about 10:00 a.m.  Maybe that was part of the reason I was so shaky.

Teddy had gone home to milk his cow, and when he returned he had a tall, thick ceramic mug full of frothy, fresh milk for me – and he hadn’t skimmed the cream off before pouring the mug full.  Mmmm, it was so good.  My hands stopped shaking, and even my stomach stopped growling.  😋

Larry and I stopped with the cleaning for a bit and went to Wendy’s to pick up some supper:  chef salads and flavored tea for Hannah (strawberry) and me (pineapple mango), and a sandwich and side salad for Larry.  Teddy had already eaten and didn’t want anything else, and Joanna had earlier gone to choir practice.

Wouldn’t you just know it, by the time we returned, Bobby, Aaron, and Joanna were there.

“Did the rest of you have supper?” I asked.

“Nooooooo-oooo-ooo!” said Bobby in a sad, wailing tone.

So, while he protested it was unnecessary, I doled out some money to Aaron and asked him to go buy more food.  He was soon back again with the grub.  So there we sat, having a pleasant time with each other despite the upset.  It’s comforting when one’s family is also one’s friends.

Teddy has offered to stay with Loren part of the time, while Larry works.  This is a silver lining to the cloud, because Teddy has injured his ribs, tearing cartilage and muscle, and that takes a while to heal.  Working in construction is not conducive to the healing of dislodged ribs. 

I, having had the same type of injury a few times, in addition to breaking a rib at least twice, am extremely sympathetic.

Bobby and Aaron have offered to stay with Loren, too.  Teddy turned the handle to the garage door around so we can lock it from the outside, and Loren won’t be able to wander around out there, running the batteries down on vehicles by turning on dome lights, and possibly hurting himself with the tools out there.

Loren’s house looks a sight different than it did when he walked out of it last Tuesday.  Many of the walls are bare.  The majority of bathroom and kitchen drawers are plumb empty.  I wonder where the toaster went?  I didn’t clear out that part of the kitchen, so I don’t know.

The stoneware dishes that we were going to give to Emma were still in boxes in the kitchen, so I pulled out a few plates, dishes, saucers, cups, and glasses, and put them back in the cupboards while Larry carried the rest downstairs.  Sorry, Emma. 

Loren would walk back into a house considerably lightened of its load.  There’s less furniture, less clothes, and bags and bags [and bags!] less junk and trash.  He really let it go in the last few months.  He saved empty boxes galore.  He didn’t clean.  We hadn’t yet gotten to the cleaning; we were still just hauling things out.  So the place needs a good cleaning.  We scrubbed and dusted a few things, but there’s a lot left to do.

Some of the family offered to bring back a few things they’d hauled away and still had in their possession.  “No, no!” I said, “I don’t want to do any more of this job over again than I have to!  He got by just fine without it for 5 ½ days.  I think he doesn’t remember things clearly enough or think things through well enough to actually realize things are missing.  If he does... well, he’ll just have to get used to it, I guess.”

So we tidied up his house the best we could, until it didn’t look quite so much like it had been ransacked.  We put a few things back where they’d been, and strewed around the remaining knickknacks to fill vacant spots.  I emptied the box of his clothes I’d collected (in case he needed them at the nursing home) back into some of the bureau drawers, spreading them out so that the dresser didn’t look empty.  It had previously been so full the drawers wouldn’t open and close properly.

I plan to continue the cleanout, a little at a time, as I had been doing earlier.

Larry’s blood pressure was way up Sunday morning after being down to normal Saturday morning. 

After the morning church service, we got some groceries to restock Loren’s kitchen, a toaster, and an audio baby monitor.  Then we picked up Loren and took him home. 

He was very sober.  As we headed away from Edgewood, he, sitting in the back seat, said, “Did you have any trouble, Sarah Lynn?”

I said, “No.”  (That was a bald-faced lie, but out of all the troubles I’ve been having, I didn’t know which one he might be talking about.  Therefore, ‘no’.)

We drove on in silence. 

A couple of minutes later, as we were about to turn onto the bypass toward his house, he asked, “Is Daddy in Columbus?”

“Daddy died in 1992,” I told him, “on September 14^th.  That was 29 ½ years ago.”

Silence.

Aleutia, Teddy, Joseph, & Larry

Finally, about four minutes later, we turned onto the road leading toward Loren’s house.  It is easily seen from that corner.  Loren asked, “Where are you going, Larry?”

“To your house,” Larry answered.

Loren helped us carry in groceries, and then decided to help put them away.  Yogurt and probiotic drink in the cupboard, canned vegetables in the refrigerator. 

“Yogurt goes in the refrigerator,” I said, pulling them back out.  “Cans in the cupboard.”

I got the coffee maker out of a box, put it on the counter, and plugged it in.  Loren, still in Helpful Mode, said, “Do you want the light on?” and, without waiting for an answer, turned the switch to ‘On’.

“No, there’s nothing in it,” I said, flipping it back off.

He looked at the thing in puzzlement.

Soon we had everything put away, and set the new toaster on the counter.  Loren didn’t even notice it was new, although we got it out of the sealed box while he watched.  Nor did he seem to note that the house had taken on a considerably different look than it used to have.

When everything was back to rights, I came home, and Larry stayed with Loren.  He would stay the night, and Teddy would come in the morning so Larry could go to work.

I texted Larry at 6:00, just before leaving the house to go to church, to ask how things were going.  He answered as I pulled into a parking place at the church, writing, “Okay.”

I would learn later that things weren’t really ‘okay’, as Loren had gotten all huffy (to put it mildly) about this or that (or both).  Larry, setting up the computer so they could listen to the evening service, and putting supper on the table, too, finally ordered Loren in no uncertain terms to go away and be quiet.

So Loren marched into the living room in High Dudgeon, and sat looking out the window for a while.

Their supper was rotisserie chicken from Wal-Mart, green beans, peaches, and tapioca pudding.  While Larry put food on plates, Loren went into his bedroom for a bit – and emerged completely dressed in suit, tie, and dress shoes!

I had hauled away three suits, but he has several more.  I have his best black one here, along with a good white shirt and a nice tie.  I plan to have it cleaned, and save it for when we need it one of these days.  I brought several ties home, but Loren has lots of ties.

“We’re staying home,” said Larry, “because there’s too much sickness, and we don’t want you to get sick.”

Loren accepted that explanation, but left his suit on while he ate, and throughout the service, too.

Somewhere in all the stuff at that house, there’s a quilt I made for Loren and Janice in 2009, the quilt I made for Loren from the embroidered squares Janice gave me before she passed away, and the matching pillow.  I've seen neither hide nor hair of them.

Joseph, Teddy, Dorcas, Hannah, Lydia, Hester, Keith, Caleb, and Larry
Royal Gorge

We need to get a cage for the thermostat so Loren can no longer turn that thing up to 85°, parboiling everyone.  He can put on a sweater.  We will control the thermostat.

Once when Loren seemed to be looking for something, Larry explained that we’d removed some items, the better to repair a few spots that had been leaking.  He pointed them out.

Loren looked at the spots.  “The people who lived here before didn’t keep the place up,” he told Larry. 

It was only a few weeks ago that he told Jeremy and Lydia stories about the construction of his home, and how he helped Jeremy’s grandfather by carrying mortar while he laid the bricks.

I’m staying home today, petting Tiger (who missed me last week, and looked really woebegone yesterday every time I put on my coat), and getting my own neglected house in a little better order.  I’ve brought... ((...counting the boxes I can see...)) ... 8? boxes of stuff from Loren’s house, and I need to put that stuff away.  Most of it is things we’ll use up, such as soap or canned goods.  All this partial clearing out of his house sure puts me in a frame of mind to pitch out half of my own jetsam and flotsam.

Four loads of clothes are done.  The litterbox is cleaned out.  Bird feeders are filled, and I’ve taken some birthday gifts that I ordered last week downstairs to my gift-wrapping room.

Do I repeat myself in these journals??  I’m looking back through the last few weeks’ letters, and I see I’ve mentioned several things over again.  Maybe even over and over again. 

I blame it on my kids – there are too many of them.  I can never remember to whom I’ve told what.  Add a few more people into the mix, and consider the real possibility that my brain is scattered at the moment, and, well, I guess it’s a wonder I’m not blundering around babbling like an idiot.

Ah, well... as Victoria once said when she was little, “Twice is better than nunce!”  (And yes, I realize I said that not too long ago, too.)

Teddy & Caleb

Larry stopped here on his way back from Norfolk.  I gave him a half-full box of aluminum foil and some cooking spray to take to Loren’s house – and then couldn’t find the new box of foil when I needed it for the mandarin orange chicken I wanted to bake.  After giving up on the aluminum foil, I pulled the baking pan from the cupboard – and there was the new box of aluminum foil.  I had moved that pan and looked under it at least once before!  The kitchen gremlins put the foil back when I wasn’t looking, evidently.

Is dementia contagious??!

Mercy on me, I do hope I don’t acquire the disease.  I want to stay sweet and cheery in my latter days, like my mother did.

This is discouraging, really.  We took a step forward... and then stepped back again.  But, like I told my children, we’ll continue on like the widow of Zarephath:  she only had a day’s supply of meal (grain) and oil for herself, her son, and the prophet Elijah; but she prayed for more each day, and every day God replenished the pot of meal and the cruse of oil – with just enough for another day.  Like her, we’ll keep trusting and praying, and taking one day at a time.  Sometimes, just one step at a time.

There goes the little tune on the washing machine.  I’m off to the laundry room, continuing my calm(?) little life out here in the country as if nothing whatsoever is the matter anywhere.

Except... why is a boxelder bug crawling along on my kitchen floor?!  It’s only 6° outside, for crying out loud!  He’s supposed to be hibernating.

And now it’s time for me to go hibernate.  But just until morning.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,