Family

Flatwoods

~ Teresa ~ 6 Comments

My people will live in peaceful dwelling places,
    in secure homes,
    in undisturbed places of rest.

Isaiah 32:18 NIV

When my Mom was a child her family lived in Flatwoods, Kentucky while my grandfather worked for the railroad.  For some reason, my mom always equated living there with some of her best memories, even though she was only four at the time.  She told me that when one of the babies was born the children were sent to Preacher Cyrus’s house around the corner (Billy Ray’s grandfather).  His children played with Mom’s older siblings and it seems that when there was a birth they were sent to the Cyrus home to wait it out.

One of her memories was of an upstairs room wallpapered in newspaper print.  She remembered a skeleton on the paper, probably from an advertisement.  She also remembered walking across the back alley to the post office.  Once some cousins from grandma’s side of the family sent them a large box of clothes with chocolate laying on top.  She remembered having to help her brother Bill, lug the box home from the post office.

 

house Mom lived in
back of house
street house is on
Preacher Cyrus’s house

The blue house was the one Mom lived in; White house was the Cyrus house

Several years ago she and Dad went back to Flatwoods looking for the house and the old post office. The post office no longer existed but the foundation was there.  They stopped to take a look; a local policeman stopped by to see if he could help them.  They shared their story with him and he confirmed that the post office had at one time stood on that spot. They had trouble finding the street she had lived on so they stopped in at a local mart for directions.  A gentleman there remembered the Maddox’s – turned out he had played with Mom’s brother, Billy, so he knew exactly where they needed to go.  When they arrived at the house the current owners came out to talk to them and showed them around their home. Some things had changed over the years but Mom still recognized it.  It was a great day for Mom getting to revisit a place that had been lodged in her heart since childhood.

In 2014, before Mom’s memories were completely gone and she still mentioned Flatwoods we took another drive.  By this time the street she had lived on had been renamed Cyrus Ct. after Billy Ray. The house he owned pre-Achy Breaky Heart sits next door to the house Mom had lived in. This time we had to go to the Library to find the directions because Mom’s memories were scattered, Dad couldn’t remember the name of the first street we needed to turn on and the alley behind the house had been opened so it was situated a little different.

All we had to go on was that it was around the corner from the Cyrus home, so I marched into the Flatwoods library and told them we were looking for my Mom’s childhood home that was around the corner from the Cyrus’s.  I’m sure they thought we were just curious and being nosy.  They got out the map and showed us the street and explained how to get there. So we did a drive by and took a few pictures.  It was a bittersweet day because I knew Mom’s memories were fading fast and that it would probably be her last trip to Flatwoods to walk down memory lane.

 

I’m not sure of the reason that Flatwoods had such a tug on Mom’s heart but it did. It seemed that Flatwoods represented a happy time in her life. Don’t we all have memories of those places that represent some of our greatest happiness in life?  I’m glad we took her back one last time.

Grace for the journey,

Teresa

Come back tomorrow for more of the journey?  Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!

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Comfort

~ Teresa ~ 6 Comments

As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you…  Isaiah 66:13

woman with brown baby carrier and little kid in white jacket
Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

Comfort is a lovely word.  A warm word.  I imagine comfort like a warm blanket shielding me from the cold. Comfort is the touch of a mother’s hand on a fevered brow.

Growing up in our family comfort was many times practical and extended when there was a need.  A warm washcloth washing our feet after we were already in bed, mending a torn item, rubbing our aching legs, praying over a hurt.  Mom had the gifts of mercy and service.  Her love language was definitely acts of service. She was a natural born caregiver and was in her element when ministering to the need of someone else.

Even after the Alzheimer’s slowed her down she still had that instinct to comfort others. Not too long before she passed away I was staying with my parents for a few days.  Mom and I were sitting on the couch side by side.  My arm was aching as it does so often with the MCTD, she reached over and rubbed my arm.  She sensed my discomfort and wanted to take care of me.  It was a sweet gesture.  Sometimes she would come near and pat my head, partly because she needed physical touch but also because she wanted to provide comfort.  That was what she knew to do.

How many times over the past few weeks have I wished for one more pat on the head, one more arm rub, one more hug, one more time to sit side by side on the couch and feel her warmth.  The last Sunday before we took her to Hospice on Monday, she had been sitting on the back porch with my Dad.  I looked out the door and she was leaning over on his shoulder napping peacefully.  It was a beautiful picture of love and comfort.

In our deepest hurt scripture tells us that just as a mother comforts her child, so God will comfort us.  I’m holding to that promise these days more than ever.

Grace for the journey

PS: My Mom was the heart of our home.  Click here to read a poem and tribute I shared a few years ago on Mother’s Day.

Come back tomorrow for more of the journey?  Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!

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Weekend Blessing

~ Teresa ~ 1 Comment

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31 KJV

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Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

I remember a song from my childhood youth group based on Isaiah 40:31, Teach Me, Lord.  It was one of the songs that I sang to Mom.  It was one of her favorite scriptures.  I watched her live out this scripture.  She was a doer, but in living life, she learned to wait on the Lord.  She had tremendous faith in his provision for everything including strength for the weary.  She was a prayer warrior and knowing she was praying for me was a great encouragement because I knew her prayers were accompanied by an unrelenting faith that God would answer in his time.

I witnessed her faith in praying for healing, salvation, safety and many other things on behalf of her children as well as others.  She had an expectation that God would hear and that he would provide. Even as the Alzheimers ravaged her, she still clung to her faith.  She would sometimes tell me she wanted to see Jesus and now she has.

She prayed many prayers and even though she is now in heaven, I believe that her prayers are still relevant. God remembers her prayers and he knows which ones still need to be answered and they will be in his time.

My prayer for you is that you will wait upon the Lord for renewed strength; that he will raise you on Eagles wings and that you won’t become weary in doing life but trust in his timing for all things.

Grace and Strength for the journey,

Teresa

PS – I hope you don’t mind that I combined Saturday and Sunday this week.  I am a little weary this weekend and need some extra rest.  Looking forward to the day when I can walk and not faint.

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Mom at the Henry Ford museum in Detroit, Michigan on a trip she and Dad took. She thought it would be fun to “ride” the bike. She was always up for a little adventure.

 

Come back Monday for more of the journey?  Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!

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Simple Pleasures

~ Teresa ~ 3 Comments

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

Psalm 23:1

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picture of a fence post on a country road near Shelbyville, KY. I have a thing for fence posts.

Today was for living and finding memories in everyday moments.

I mentioned on Day 9 that I thought I’d find an Apple Orchard and buy a bag of Apples in memory of my Mom.  I did just that today.  They did not have Cortland’s but there was a nice variety and we did a mixed bag of Jonagold, Winesap and Ruby Mac.  We came home and did a taste test.  The Ruby Mac was our favorite and reminded me slightly of the Cortland’s that Mom used to buy. Tart with a hint of sweet, kind of like Mom herself. She would have loved being part of the tasting.

Part of the joy in finding an Orchard was getting to drive in the country.  One of our favorite things as a family was taking drives.  We’d roam all the back roads happy as larks. I know Mom would have loved our adventure on the way to Mulberry Orchard in Shelbyville, Kentucky.

Next, on our out and about excursion we stopped in at Goodwill to see if we could find a bargain.  We found a couple pair of slacks for Rocky.  Shopping at the Goodwill also brings back memories of Mom because she loved a good bargain.  She could spot the good stuff. One of my favorite outfits as a kid came from the Goodwill, the cutest brown white and blue plaid skirt with suspender straps.  Of course, as a child, I didn’t want to tell anyone that it came from Goodwill.  Now, if I find a bargain at Goodwill I want pats on the back! Remind me once this series is over to tell you about the beautiful Scottish plaid jacket we found for Rocky (haha, can’t wait to share).

After our stint in Goodwill, I stopped in at Hobby Lobby to find a pretty binder and protector sheets for Mom’s handwritten poetry.  I want to type all of her poems and make copies for the family, but I also want to preserve her original copies as well as other snippets of writing that I have found.  We are lucky to have her poetry as we thought they had been lost.

In 2010 she came to stay with me after surgery and she brought her poetry with her.  We were going to type up her poems, but life got in the way and we didn’t.  After she went back home I never saw her poetry again until last year. For seven years we had no clue where they were and Mom couldn’t remember where she put them.  Last summer we started going through her crates of school papers and there they were buried in with worksheets and notebooks where she had evidently hidden them for safekeeping. I put them in a safe place with intentions of finally typing them up. That is my next project once the 31-day writing challenge is over.

When we arrived home at the end of our day, we ate a bowl of chili.  This too reminds me of Mom because when I was about ten years old she taught me how to make chili.  It is the first thing I remember cooking and to this day I make it pretty much the way she taught me.

In a little while, I will eat a bowl of ice cream and be reminded of all the times Mom and I would sneak off to Dairy Queen without telling Dad and Rocky.  We’d go through the drive-through then find a pleasant spot to park the car and enjoy our treat.

Today was exactly the kind of day that Mom would have enjoyed.  I think I’ll add an extra scoop of ice cream just for her!

Simple pleasures are best.

Alan Bradley

 

Grace for the journey,

Teresa

Come back tomorrow for more of the journey?  Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!

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I Won’t Lose You

~ Teresa ~ 3 Comments

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5b

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From the archives – September 21, 2015

I look out my window and see you standing there, all forlorn in your red jacket and shoes.  My heart breaks into a million pieces as you look around lost in another world.

I’m helpless to fix you. I wish I could take you in my arms, hold you tight and make the pain go away.

Memories of things said in haste flood my mind; things I wish I could unsay because I didn’t know. I didn’t know you couldn’t always help it; I didn’t know how bad you were hurting.

How we were all hurting.   Walking around in a fog trying to make sense of the new normal.  In many ways we are all ill – it has changed us.  We dig deep trying to find answers; trying to hold onto hope, but failing in so many ways.

I don’t want you to leave before you go.  I want you full and present while you’re still with us.  I know it’s not about me, it’s not about any of us really.

We’re the burden bearers reaching out to you to offer comfort, accepting the reality that it’s never enough.  I stifle screams for mercy and laugh with you over whimsy and words that have no meaning.

The laughter is the mask that helps us live, otherwise, we’d cry tears unto death.  We won’t give in without fighting.  I won’t lose you.  You are still you.,

I wait for a glimmer of your essence and thank God for you. I blink away tears as I watch you walk away and I pray for mercy, strength, and peace.

Later, I’ll cry those tears and hope they wash everything new again.

 

mom

I came across the above words from the blog archives last night as I was planning ahead for today’s post:

Journal – October 5, 2018

I still remember the day I looked out my window and saw Mom standing on the sidewalk beside her house.  She had on her favorite denim dress, red canvas, shoes and a red jacket.  Red was always one of her colors. I will never forget how she was standing there, staring across the yard.  She seemed so defenseless and I just wanted to run to her, hug her close and tell her everything would be alright. That memory still breaks my heart.

One thing that stands out to me was the resolve not to lose her.  It didn’t matter if she was losing memories, I would remember for both of us.  I told her on several occasions that she didn’t have to worry about what she couldn’t remember because I’d remember for her. And many times I did just that. She’d ask questions about people or events and I’d give her the answers. As many times as it took.

Another way that I held on to not losing her was humor.  She could still say things to make me laugh.  At times in the middle of a conversation, she would come out with a one-liner that hit the nail on the head that made us all take notice.  She loved to tease people and make them smile.

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Mom as a teenager teasing one of her nephews.

As devastating as Alzheimer’s is I’m convinced that if we hold on tight it can never truly take away the essence of a person.  Mom’s personality still shone through and for that, I am eternally grateful.

I’m starting to realize that even though she is gone now I can never truly lose her. She will always live in my heart and my memories. Maybe you can relate.

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I hope you don’t mind my sharing from the archives. Yesterday’s post was draining and in preparing for today’s I couldn’t find direction until I came across this old post and it somehow seemed like the right time to share it again.  Memoires are an important part of the grieving process.

Grace for the journey,

Teresa

 

Come back MONDAY for more of the journey? I don’t plan to post on Sunday’s. Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!

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