Our Adventure called Life

A diagnosis didn't help, it just sort-of explained things. But an explanation doesn't take away the heartache. I thought I'd clean up her cookbook today. It was an item I had asked dad for a year or so ago. Mom was no longer cooking and there were so many things she used to make that I wanted to make for my family. Her cookbook must have been something she looked through frequently even as her brain was no longer working the way it should. The recipes were no longer in order based on appitizers and meats, but haphazardly strewn throughout the book. There were multiple handwritten recipes, but with items omitted or duplicated (I only realized this when trying to bake one of her pies and the ingrediants were not correct. I wanted this book to be in order, and toss the recipe cards out that were incorrect. As I opened the book and saw dinners and desserts that she frequently made, the realization of what my children and I have lost, hit me like a freight train. I mis

My father wasn't released the following day as I had hoped. He wasn't released the day after that either. We ended up keeping my mother from Saturday to Saturday. At first I had taken a couple days off work to stay with her. I was concerned what would happen if I left her alone. By the third day, I had to return to my job. I covered the house in notes saying "Don't Leave, Dad is coming to get you." I taped "Stay Here" notes on the doors and put granola bars out on the counter in the event she became hungry. We relocated some of our security cameras inside the house so I could view her while I was at work 4 minutes away. I had learned over the weekend that something as simple as making a peanut butter sandwich was more than she could process. As I greeted her and told her I was there to make her lunch, she told me she was starving and hadn't eaten all day. I knew she had but must have forgotten, because I had fed her breakfast that mornin

It was two years ago this past weekend. Our town was gearing up for the annual Autumnfest and the library board I sit on was working on a parade float at our house that Saturday. The morning was busy as Paisley had a football game and Lila had softball. We cheered on our children and their teams and headed home in anticipation of the float crew showing up. As I was picking up laundry and dishes, my dad called. During this time, we had a strained relationship due to years of mental health issues. I hadn't seen him or my mother in quite some time, and seeing his name show up on my screen caused a sickening feeling I couldn't explain. I answered and he asked if I could come pick up mom. He had been admitted to the hospital and mom was sitting alone in the emergency room. I was in my car driving east before I could even ask him if he was ok. As I drove to the hospital, I silently prayed that I could handle whatever I was walking in to. How did I get to the point that m

There's so many little moments I look back on now and wonder if it was the disease. Years ago my husband started commenting on how bad my mom was at making coffee. I just added more creamer and drank it down, not giving the stale tasting coffee a second thought. She had been making me coffee for years, maybe her pot just needed to be de-calcified or maybe she was cutting back on the amount of beans used? Eventually, it just became easier for me to always take her a Starbucks than have her brew us a pot. There was a strawberry pie incident that left the first (and only) bite of pie sizzling on our tongues. She had been making this pie my entire life, but surely it was a simple ingredient mistake, nothing that I should to be alarmed about. As my grandparents aged and required moving from the town of Santa Claus to the same town as my mother, she became the caregiver for their daily needs. Besides working at the library, she was now taking my grandparents to every doctors ap

At first I thought the repeated questions were because she wasn't paying attention.  Between chasing after two small children and keeping the house clean, I was quick to grow agitated as I didn't have the patience to repeat myself over and over to another adult.   The repeated questions weren't frequent enough to cause concern.  I blew it off as lack of focus in the midst of a busy life happening around us.   Over time, it wasn't just the questions that were being repeated.  It started also being casual statements to start a conversation.  "Isn't the sky so pretty today?"  or   "The kids are getting so big."  It was this repetition that created a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Something wasn't right and I seemed to be the only one that noticed. On the phone one evening with my sister I decided to ask if she had noticed the change.  I was nervous to ask not because I was afraid she would become upset with my question, but bec

I re-entered the workforce yesterday and was happy to find myself back in the world of working outside the home.   It was hard to leave the kids and know that my time as a stay at home mom was over however, the time had come. Last night after the dinner dishes had been cleared and bedtime was upon us, it seemed the kids were extra wound up.   They had to be reminded a handful of times to brush their teeth, pick up their toys, and get ready for bed.   Finally, they were tucked in and I was exhausted.   At that moment Lila asked if I would lay with her for a bit.   In my mind, I really wanted to get a hot shower.   I needed to get things ready for my next day of work.   I had a million other tasks that I thought needed to be done.   Immediately I felt the cold sick feeling of guilt wash over me.   I had been away from her all day and at bedtime all she wanted was to snuggle me, her momma.   I crawled in bed next to her.   As I looked at her tiny face lit by the light of her ala

Tonight, as I sit on the couch listening to the sound of our children breathing deeply as they dream about their days, I can’t believe that this moment has come.   After 7 years, tonight is the night before my return to the work force as a full-time employee.   Excitement and nerves twisting together prompting me to write about this new chapter in our lives.      When this blog started many years ago, I was sitting in a comfy chair at Borders bookstore.   Anyone else remember that store?   I was newly engaged and planning a wedding.   I wanted to start a blog to capture each memory I was having during that exciting time.   Our mountain wedding came and went and blogging about my high-risk pregnancy took center stage.   Fast forward a few pages and suddenly I’m a new mom potty training a 6-month-old and soon after finding out we were expecting again!   Many blogs were devoted to milestones the children were reaching and the traveling adventures of our little family.   At som