Tag: grandparents

Dear Caregiver

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Dear Caregiver,

I’m thinking of you this morning. Maybe you’re repeating yourself for the thirteenth time, heading out to a doctor’s appointment, answering yet another urgent phone call, preparing a meal, cleaning up, or catching a few rare moments of quiet. You might be a daughter, a son, a mother, a father, a wife, a husband, a nurse, a hospice worker, or an aid. Maybe you’re caring for someone in your own family, or perhaps you never knew this person existed until you were given their name. It’s possible you’re loving what you do. On the other hand, maybe you’re feeling like any joy has been zapped from your to-do’s.

However your story reads at this moment, I want to tell you something: Thank you. Thank you for caring enough to go the extra mile, to do the dirty work when necessary, to simply be there. I’ve seen some of you in action, and I know you have a big job. I know that to do it well takes patience, selflessness and self-control. I also know what a blessing it is to families like mine to have another set of capable hands ready to help and another kind heart to care. 

You live in a world that tempts everyone to value production over people, but your work stands in contrast to that. Those you serve may not be able to produce much of monetary value, but you value them anyway. Thus, you invest every day in something that lasts for eternity – living souls. For all of this and so much more, I’m grateful for you. Whether you feel like you deserve it or not, thank you.

I’m also praying for you this morning. From my experience, I’ve seen that your days can be filled with sad pictures. I’m praying that God will give you sunny blessings in the midst of grey skies. Your work may be wearing on your heart and your health. I’m praying that God will guard your heart, strengthen your hands, and give you refreshing sleep. And for those nights when you’re awakened yet again, I’m praying that His joy will be your strength to get you through another day. On the days when you feel like you have a thankless, unnoticed job, I’m praying that you’ll remember that not everyone whom Jesus helped thanked Him either and that – no matter where you are – He sees what you’re doing right now. If your cup is empty, I’m praying that God will make it overflow. When you’re the one who needs comfort but you have to give it instead, I’m praying that you’ll remember that the God of all comfort values your tears (Ps. 56:8) and is right there with you. I’m praying that when you need it most, He will give you the tender words you need, whether for yourself or someone else.

And maybe it will help a little to know that today someone is thinking of, thankful for and praying for you.

Hugs&Blessings,

Kristen

P.S. Yes, I really did pray for you this morning!

I have been blessed to share some thoughts on A Little Bit Older, a website dedicated to encouraging Christ-like love for and life with the elderly. About a year ago, I posted this letter to caregivers. It touched enough hearts that I thought there might be more caregivers who could use the same encouragement today.

An Open Book

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Instead of calling him by his first name, they started calling him Dr. Hammer. They could talk to him about his life. The care they gave grew more attentive. They knew him as a person not just a patient. All because they knew his story.

When my sister and I compiled Grandpa’s life into a book with a self-publishing program and gave it to him for Christmas several years ago, we never envisioned it going where it could tell tales to anyone beyond our family and descendants. An audience of that size was worth the effort. But then Grandpa moved into a nursing home. 

Moving Grandpa to a nursing home was hard. Life doesn’t always bring about the ideal situations we would choose for ourselves, and this was one of those times. Mercifully, God still carries out His good work even in the challenging imperfections of this earth.

After a while of being at the nursing home, Grandpa asked for “his book”, the one we had crafted. We took a copy and left it on his shelf. Little by little, a marvelous thing happened.

One by one, we began hearing reports that the aides and nurses were reading Grandpa’s book. They would remark on “what a life” he had had. That’s when we started noticing the little changes like calling him Dr. Hammer once they realized that he had his Ph.D. in economics and had taught that subject at a university. They learned about his childhood and how he met Grandma in the Philippines and how their first date was a missionary meeting. Perhaps knowing about his Norwegian heritage and how he had served in the US Air Force gave them a little more understanding of his deep stubborn streak as well. In this way, Grandpa’s full life became an open book. We couldn’t sit and tell each nurse and aide these things, they didn’t always feel comfortable asking, and Grandpa couldn’t always put together the thoughts he wanted to share. But they were delighted to pick up the book when Grandpa told them to or when they were just sitting with him. It was such a blessing to us to see other people getting to know the Grandpa we had come to cherish. 

Beyond that, Grandpa’s book gave us an opportunity to introduce Someone even more precious: Jesus Christ. Sure, they heard us sing and saw us read the Bible and pray, but through this little book they saw how Christ is written into our lives. No, we didn’t get to see anyone become a Christian because of it, but maybe what they read planted or watered seeds. We have prayed for that. 

So, if you have a loved one who is a little bit older, I would encourage you to think creatively about how to share who that person is with family, friends and caregivers. Who knows what kind of harvest you might reap?

Empty Chairs & Full Hearts

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If Charles Dickens and I had run into each other the other night, we might not have been on the best of terms.

I was thinking about his time-honored tale A Christmas Carol and something in it bothered me.

When Ebenezer Scrooge sees Tiny Tim’s empty chair, it’s just a dream. He can wake up and do something to keep the chair full.

It doesn’t always work that way in real life.

Thinking about yet another Christmas with yet another empty chair is hard. It’s hard even though I got to love the people who sat in those chairs and one of them is empty for an overall happy reason. I don’t claim to know what it’s like for those who have empty chairs that were suddenly made that way. 

But it still could make me not feel like getting out all the Christmas decorations. 

As I keep pondering, I’m realizing that the reality of the empty chair is one more reason to celebrate Christmas. Oh, maybe it doesn’t necessitate lots of decorations or festive flair, but it still calls for a celebration.

After all, Jesus came because of the sin-caused illness and death that rob chairs of their inhabitants. Jesus’ death-conquering life is what we celebrate at Christmas. Christmas reminds us that – for those who believe on the Lord Jesus (Acts 16:30) – someday there will be no more sickness or pain or death or tears (Revelation 21:4).

Illness won’t tear families apart. Pain won’t cause a grandparent-sized gap. Death won’t take little ones before those who love them get to hold them. Tears won’t fall – they will be wiped away by God Himself (Revelation 21:4).

And, in the meantime, Jesus is making our hearts full. 

It’s at Christmas that we may realize this the most, even if the chairs are empty. You see, each one of those empty chairs once held someone I got to love. And I got to be loved by them in sweet – and sometimes quirky – ways. Although their chairs are empty, my heart can be full. 

Even better, Jesus is in the business of filling our hearts up with His love – the only Love that lives up to all those I Corinthians 13 qualities, the only Love that lasts forever, the only Love that was made to meet all our needs and seep into all the cold corners of our hearts a little like hot cocoa seeps into us on chill winter nights.

No, the pain doesn’t all go away. That’s something for Someday. We still will (probably) need to keep Kleenex handy at times. There will still be empty chairs this Christmas. Maybe there will even be new vacancies the next.

But, by God grace, there can be full hearts. And maybe, as Jesus is making our hearts full, He will fill up those chairs, too, with new people to love. 

With all that in mind, perhaps  Charles Dickens and I – if we happened to meet – could actually wish each other a very “Merry Christmas!”

A Life of Loves

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Getting older is like walking down a leaf-lined trail in the woods. Once you’ve gone a ways, you can look back and see where you’ve come from. At least some of the turns start to make sense and you can appreciate with new eyes the wonder of what lies around you. 

You can also start to notice themes throughout your journey. On a walk in the woods, it might be how maple leaves always catch your attention, the frequent scurrying of squirrel paws or the chirp of a certain bird. On the journey of life, it may be the things that have stuck with you through the years, the things that you’re drawn to, the things you love.

Take my Grandpa’s life for instance. After this Nebraska-born man joined the Navy in his teens, everything Navy has held a special place in his heart. First, the Navy itself, then lighthouses, now restoring and building model ships have kept the nautical lines strong in his life. They also extend into something else Grandpa loves.

“I would have thrown it away if you hadn’t taken it,” the jolly old blacksmith told Grandpa as they admired the five-foot, restored pond yacht. The boat had been the blacksmith’s childhood toy but needed some serious repair after being damaged in a tornado and neglected for years. After discovering how much Grandpa likes all things ship related, the blacksmith offered him the boat. Grandpa took on the project and went to work, scraping paint and repainting, studying historic information, crafting new parts, even tying the rat lines himself. After hundreds of hours of labor, the pond yacht was ready, and, oh, is she a beauty now. She represents one of the other things Grandpa loves: fixing things and giving them a new start on life. It makes me think of how God takes on the wreckage of our lives and makes us ready to sail again.

Yet another of Grandpa’s loves is making people laugh. He’s the one you can always count on to tell a joke. But he can tell it with such a straight face, you might take him seriously if you’re not on your toes!

Along with that, he also loves marshmallows and pecan pie and really has such a sweet tooth, we don’t know how he gets by. Maybe it’s because he’s disciplined in other areas of his life. Grandpa’s the one who walked miles in a frozen January when he needed to get in shape. That’s partly why he could walk himself out of the hospital a day after having a hip replacement! He’s also the one who is ready to leave to work ten minutes early. (I know because we used to work together.) All his life – from his job at the brickyard when he was sixteen through now – he’s been willing to put in a good day’s work and do things well. He’s also ready to learn new things (like with the ship models). We know he’ll never really retire until he simply can’t work anymore. You could say work is a love of his, too, though he might not admit it. I think this has been an example to the rest of his family.

But more than ships, lighthouses, repairing old things, jokes, marshmallows, and the satisfaction and pride of a job well done, Grandpa has another love: his family – his wife of 58 years, his children and his grandchildren, his brothers and sisters. Sure, our family isn’t perfect, and I think Grandpa would say he’d do some things differently if he could now, but when push comes to shove, we know Grandpa loves us. 

And that really counts for something because there’s a big difference between pouring time into boats and knots and work and pouring your life into people. All those other things are good and can be used in wonderful ways, but people are eternal. Someday Grandpa will leave those other loves – just like you leave the trees, the squirrels and the bird songs when you leave the woods – but those people he loves on can, by God’s grace, stick with him through eternity. How awesome is that?

I know I’m grateful for the “loves” of Grandpa’s life. They will be a part of the “Grandpa” stories my family will enjoy getting to share with his newest little love – his great-granddaughter.

Grand and great-granddaughter

Happy Birthday, Grandpa! I’m glad to say you are one of my “loves”.

 What about you? What are the “loves” of your life? Are your priorities where you want them to be? It’s not too late to change course and set sail for a different sea.