Sisters

Posted by Terry McNichols

I don't know who wrote the following piece, so I am unable to give credit. But since my sister, Trudy, and I are staying together in Arizona to help care for our father and assist our mother, I thought the following was a proper tribute. It's been a lot of fun, Trud! And you, my other sisters, know who you are!

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter.

"Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters.
Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them. Remember that Sisters means ALL the women...your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. You'll need other women. Women always do." (Photo by mel e mo, shared via Flickr)

What a funny piece of advice, the young woman thought. Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!

But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about. As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, Sisters are the mainstays of her life.

After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned: Time passes. Life happens. Distance separates. Children grow up. Jobs come and go. Love waxes and wanes. Men don't do what they're supposed to do. Hearts break. Parents die. Colleagues forget favors. Careers end. BUT....

Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach.

When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end.

Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you. Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, mothers, grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life! The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.

A broadcast on Monday!

Posted by Leona Bergstrom

This looks like a very good online radio show for Monday afternoon/evening! Check it out!

David Solie will be a guest on Patricia Grace's blogtalk radio show Aging with Grace on Monday, March 30, 2009 at 6:30 PM, Eastern time (3:30 PM for those of us on PST). They will be discussing:
1. Unlocking the Communication Code of Aging Parents: What is the code, why do we need to know it, and why didn't we know it before?
2. The Sibling Dilemma: How do you work with siblings who are unwilling to carry their share of the load?
3. Emotional Habits: What are they and how do they impact caregiver stress? 4. No Easy Way Out : How do you deal with an aging parent who won't cooperate in planning for the future?
5. Sixty is the New Sixty: What is "agenda crossover" and why should Boomers be paying special attention to this transition?Please join us...
Click here for Patricia Grace's blogtalk radio show.

The Penny

Posted by Terry McNichols

Whenever you're called on to make up your mind
and you're hampered by not having any,
the best way to solve the dilemma, you'll find,
is simply by spinning a penny.
No - not so that chance shall decide the affair,
while you're passively standing there moping;
but the moment the penny is up in the air,
you suddenly know what you're hoping.
- Piet Hein, poet and scientist (1905-1996)

(Photo by verbo10, shared via Flickr)

Caring for the elderly

Posted by Terry McNichols

In lieu of our usual rerun today, I would like to link to a very useful tool for bringing up the discussion of options for our elderly parents. David Solie has put together a road map called "When the Bottom Falls Out Mind Map" that covers many of the questions that arise when health and independence become pressing issues. (Click on the map to see a larger version). I am writing this post in advance of a visit to my parents in Arizona and, if the moment is right, will bring this road map up for discussion. I will probably wish that I had read David's book How to Say it to Seniors in advance of my visit!

Dad's surgery revisited

Posted by Terry McNichols

My father had his surgery last Tuesday and it was successful. Our family response was less successful. Here's how it played out. My mom is very independent and said from the start that she didn't want anyone to come and help her during my dad's hospital stay. She worried about what the person coming would do all day, where they would stay, and thought it would be more trouble to have someone than to do it herself. She didn't want to have to worry about us! We let her stay in her role as the "mother" and did what we were told.

The plan was for my mom and dad to stay overnight in a nearby hotel to cut down on early morning travel to the hospital. Then my mom was to stay in the the room with my dad throughout his hospital stay, in order to take care of him and be nearby. The hospital stay was to be one to three days and my sister had airline tickets to arrive Friday. I am leaving today for Phoenix. This trip was planned before the surgery and it would have been expensive to change the tickets at such a late date. So we left things as they were.

This plan would have worked out perfectly except for one major snag. The hospital was full the day of dad's surgery and there wasn't a room for him. He was kept in the recovery area of the hospital for the first night. My mother had nowhere to go. She refused to leave the hospital as she wanted to be near my dad. The hospital finally put a cot in a counseling room and she slept there. The bathroom was far down the hall and she had a very difficult night, sleeping poorly and having to get dressed every time she woke to go down the hall to the bathroom. So by day two she was very tired and hadn't showered.

Throughout day two I worked with my mom by remote control to try to find her a place to stay for the night. There still wasn't a room for my dad. The nearby hotel filled up their rooms before mom was ready to give in and leave the hospital. The nice room from the night before was not available. She wasn't willing for us to spend money on an expensive room. She was nervous about driving somewhere, afraid of getting lost, afraid of going to a hotel by herself in this part of town. She didn't want to lose her good parking space at the hospital. She had problems working the cell phone. She didn't have money to take a taxi and my dad couldn't remember the pin for their cash card. My mom is suspicious of taxi drivers. She wouldn't call any of the friends who had offered help. A local niece tried to be helpful, but mom was worried about the cold virus her family had. After the fact I found out that the hospital had several hotels with reduced rates, shuttles were available, and that taxis take credit cards. But we weren't planning on needing all of this information.

This story actually worked itself out. The hospital room opened up and my mom was able to stay in the room with my dad and then drove him home the next day. The story of how she slept through him pulling the tube out of his neck and trying to disassemble his razor to get something to cut the dangling cords is a story for another time. Somehow, he made it through the night and is at home, sore, exhausted, but still among the living. And the story of how my mom persevered to actually make this surgery happen is an example of her normal resourcefulness!

But the questions that arise from this experience will be fodder for our blog for some time to come. We are writing about the challenges of aging, as they affect us personally, and one of the most significant challenges we now face is how to deal with the issue of our aging parents. How do we allow them to maintain their independence in the face of increasing evidence that they need help? When do we ignore their express desires and do what we think is best in a given situation? At what point does the parent become the child? And how do we deal with the resentment that comes when these issues arise?

Between my siblings and our spouses, we have a pastor, a geriatric specialist, a doctor, a nurse practitioner, a counselor, a Medicare specialist and several other highly competent individuals. We should be able to figure out the answers to these questions!

Aloha 'Oe

Posted by Leona Bergstrom

This morning the Kauai skies are crying. Warm teardrops are falling in sweet farewell as we leave what has now become our favorite spot on earth. We've spent almost two weeks here basking in the sun and enjoying some welcomed rest.

Hawaii gets into your blood, your heart and your soul in an amazing way. It's hard to describe, but it is more than just the outrageous beauty that surrounds you. (Sometimes I don't think I can even totally comprehend the beauty.) There is a spiritual presence that echoes the ancient respect and worship for nature -- the sea, the land, the mountains. I usually feel like an outsider, this haole from the mainland with very white skin now turning various shades of pink. While Hawaii is a full-fledged state of the U.S., there is a subtle longing here for the ways of old. The luaus celebrate it while subgroups congregate to protest and advocate for the return of Hawaii to the native people.

Queen Liliuokalani penned the famous Aloha 'Oe in late 1877. It has become a famous song of farewell around the world. It has a haunting longing in the words and music. Longing for days of old.

Today we sing the same words as board Alaska Airlines to return to Seattle.

Aloha 'Oe...until we meet again.

Rerun Wednesday - Dad's surgery!

Yesterday, my father made it successfully through a very risky surgery to insert a stent in his aorta and block a huge, growing aneurysm. This has been a concern since it was discovered in July. After his own doctor suggested the surgery was too dangerous and wanted my dad to sign up for hospice and wait to die, my mother would not relent. A couple of weeks ago, she convinced my dad to switch insurance companies and he was able to then have the surgery performed by an internationally renowned cardiovascular surgeon in whom he had great trust. I thought it would be fitting to rerun this guest post by my brother, Leona's husband, in dad's honor.

Posted by Richard Bergstrom

My father, Rudy Bergstrom (back row, center) was a flight instructor during WWII. Though he never flew in combat, he trained many pilots who did. His flying career began with a flight over his hometown of Somers, Montana when he was 21 years old. He took an immediate interest in flying and enrolled in flight training. As the war heated up, there was a great need for pilots, and he answered the call. Just as he was about to embark on further flight training, his career was almost cut short by the loss of part of one of his fingers, when it was crushed between two railroad cars in Somers. As was typical of so many of the WWII soldiers, he didn’t talk a lot about his experiences while we were growing up, but he did continue flying, and even survived three crashes, none of which were due to pilot error, however. Here is he after landing an army reserve plane on the ice in front of our home on Flathead Lake, MT. As he grew older he seemed to be more willing to talk about his flying experiences, and collected quite a scrapbook with photo albums of his flying days. As the years have gone by, our admiration for our father has grown as we have come to realize the full extent of who he is and what he did during those years.

A few years ago, we toured the Boeing Museum of Flight in Seattle, and were amazed to find that so many of the planes in that museum he had flown. The list is impressive: Aeronca L-38; BT-9; Piper J3 Cub; L-38 Kaydet; Fairchild F-24; Stinson SR Reliant; Stearman PT-13; and even a B-17. But his favorite airplane had to be the B-25, which he incorporated into his email address later in life. This summer, he and my mom, Ruth, managed to hitch a ride on a private jet flying from Kalispell, MT to Seattle, WA. He described that experience as “the highlight of my life.” Now, at age 85, he faces his greatest challenge. A risky surgery lies ahead. There is no certainty of the outcome. Each of us five siblings is seeking to grab precious moments with our father and hear the stories one more time of his adventures in flying. Each of us has discovered, at midlife, a hero in our father, a veteran of WW II.

(That would be my brother and me standing on the ice with the airplane! Thanks, Bro, for the guest post! Terry)

Tech savvy grandma!

Posted by Terry McNichols

If you ask me what I have accomplished the last few weeks, I will have to tell you that I have spent far more time on my computer than I care to admit. I had some very important and welcome interruptions, but other than the birth of my fifth grandchild, not much else has been able to pry my mangled fingers from the keyboard. I have found the mouse hole to beat all mouse holes, in the form of Facebook and Twitter.

If you know me at all, you are aware that I have been feeding my computer addiction since 1995, when I first bought a windows-based computer and got immediately hooked. I've been building websites, emailing, taking computers apart and putting them back together since that time and try to stay on top of the latest technology -- an impossible task. I don't (yet) have an iPhone or a media package for my phone, but I am trying desperately to keep up.

I mentioned in a prior post that I have signed up for Skype and bought a webcam, in hopes of keeping up with my growing Texas family. I passed over that learning curve and jumped right into another. I have become addicted to Facebook and have found it to be a huge leap in my ability to keep up with friends, as well as nieces and nephews across the country and the world. I have been playing word games and speed games across the miles with my "friends" and across town with my son and his wife, often late at night when we all should be sleeping. I have become more intimately acquainted with several people I already knew, but now know much better. My new grandson had his picture and a video posted on facebook accounts before he was a day or two old!

So today I took the plunge and signed up for a Twitter account. I've long thought Twitter sounded like a total waste of time and energy, but after hearing about it non-stop on NPR and reading about it in magazines, I decided to take the plunge. So recently I have been keeping up with my daughter-in-law in Texas!

If you are a user of either of these, send me a request and I'll happily "friend" or "follow" you.
But my point to you, our readers? The world of communication is changing at speeds that remind me of Leona's post about white water rafting. It does feel like that at times to those of us who may be technologically challenged. But if you want to stay afloat, you need to get on the raft, start paddling, and hold on for dear life! The white waters of change are happening in the world of technology, and we dare not get behind! Think about it. My grandchildren probably couldn't even identify this picture:
And finally, if you're wondering if you can do it, take notice that my 83-year-old mother-in-law just joined Facebook. You can do it!
Photos by ninnet, imjustcreative, Old Telephones, shared via Flickr)

Navigating the White Waters of Change

(Leona and her husband are vacationing in Hawaii. We are posting an article Leona recently published in her role as Co-Director for 2nd 1/2 for Him, Baptist General Conference)

“ You’re not going down the CHUTES like that are you?”


Those were the last words we heard before our inflatable plunged over what appeared to be a harmless, flat, smooth rock formation. Puddles of lazy water lapping against a table of stone suddenly turned into raging waters determined to plunge straight down. The people on the shore waving their arms and shouting words of warning were soon lost in a haze of white bubbles and cold murk.

It all started so peacefully. We were floating down the river on a lazy afternoon. Enjoying the sites, the fellowship, the common purpose of just getting down the river so we could hike back up. But like so much of life, something happened we weren’t prepared for: a change in the terrain.

What resulted was near disaster as we left the comforts of the raft, entered the cold glacier-fed stream, held our breath and plummeted. Our angels were on red alert that day, and we actually survived.

Some of what we learned from those white waters we will never forget. Things like: Don’t be surprised when change happens. Prepare for it, expect it, try to understand it, and then hang on!

We often refer to our “white water” (white knuckle!) rafting experience when we consider life in today’s church. Our generation has been sailing along for years, confidently rowing through familiar waters. We’ve established strong churches with solid infrastructures. Programs are as predictable as the tide. We know what to wear, what to teach, and most importantly, what to sing and how to sing it. We’ve got peace like a river.

And then comes along another generation (or two or three!). Things start to feel different. Pastors start wearing jeans in the pulpit, the worship band turns up the volume to unbelievable levels (we already gave up the piano and organ, wasn’t that enough??) and they are talking about taking “Baptist” out of our name. Unfamiliar words like “emergent,” “missional,” “local impact,” “multi-site” ricochet around board rooms and business meetings. The waters are stirring and we feel not only uncertain, but disoriented. Not only disoriented, but disgusted. “They” are changing everything. We’re going over the edge and entering white water!

Gordon MacDonald artistically paints a picture of the turmoil many feel as our churches “try to enter the 21st century” in his recent fiction (really, a fiction?) entitled Who Stole My Church? The book cover says it all, “This is a fictional story that reflects the all-too-real situation of many church communities today, where loyal and long-standing members can feel pushed aside by the new demands of evangelism in the twenty-first century.”

Here’s an excerpt from the introduction:

All of us who gathered in the Commons that evening shared a common history: We’d been raised by parents who had persevered through the Great Depression and fought (or supported the soldiers) in World War II. We could remember a time when most homes had only one telephone, if any, and when an extension phone (once a common term) was considered a luxury. We could recall summertime polio epidemics, radio dramas, and President Truman. We had grown up afraid of communists, curious about UFOs, and envious of anyone owning a 1949 Ford with twin Hollywood mufflers. Another thing we all had in common was that we were all church people, Christian in our life commitment. All of us had years and years of history invested in organized religious life. And more than a few in the group--I was an exception--had been a part of this particular church since infancy....We were descendants of a passing Christian culture. We could swap stories of memorable Billy Graham campaigns. We often reminisced about our Saturday night dates at Youth for Christ rallies. And we were quite familiar with traditional church functions: midweek prayer services, VBS, Watch Night services on New Year’s eve, and sunrise services on Easter morning to which we were dragged by parents whose lives were defined by the church calendar....We’d all been to summer camp, and we’d sung and even acted in Christmas cantatas. Our histories also included missionary festivals, prophecy conferences, and Bible exposition weekends. We were taught from our earliest days that the standard for biblical giving was the tithe: 10 percent of our earnings.... When the church opens its doors, we have always shown up.... That is, until lately. Now something may be changing in our generational ranks. Faithful people who always used to be as dependable as the ocean tides on the Maine coast are beginning to signal a bit of annoyance with their churches. And their gifts and their faithfulness in attendance are beginning to fray at the edges. (p. xiv-xvi)

Many church leaders are facing some of the challenges identified in MacDonald’s book. Navigating the white waters of change can be demanding, exciting, and sometimes deadly. Psalm 71:17-18 reminds us of how critical it is to find a way through the white waters. “Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, until I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.”

(Photo by Quite Lucid, shared via Flickr)

Rerun Wednesday - Oops, too late!

Posted by Leona Bergstrom

I was trying to convince my husband that exercising at our local gym would increase the likelihood of him living longer. With prophetic insight mixed and a certain degree of nagging I stressed, “You don’t want to die young, do you?” To which he replied, “I’m too old to die young.”

Whoa. I wonder when we crossed that line where it’s assumed that we’ve spent our youth. At what point does someone go from saying, “Oh, but he was so young,” to “Well, he lived a long, good life?”

As Billy Joel sang, “only the good die young.” At least we don’t have to be good anymore.

(Photos by Phil Dowsing and echo esofstars, shared via Flickr)

Welcome Baby Samuel!

Posted by Terry McNichols

Today I watched my fifth grandchild enter the world. I was invited to be present at the birth and enjoyed the privilege of watching a birth from the other end of the bed. I watched the birth of my three children via a mirror over the bed, but I was so distracted by the hormones, the pain, and the new baby, that I don't really remember many of the details. The details of today are very clear in my memory. At one point I even wondered if I might faint.

My husband and I answered the call at 6:30 AM and he raced to pick up our 2-1/2 year old grandson at the hospital door. I took my time, showering and then worrying that I might miss something. When I arrived, I opened the door to her room, heard her pain, and wondered WHY I had thought I wanted to be present. I had a momentary deja vu that was overpowering! When I found that my daughter was only 1-1/2 cm I gladly opted to go back home awhile and play with my toddler grandson instead. The timing was perfect with grandson napping for Bompa while I raced back to the hospital. I managed to return to the birthing room in time for the last hour of contractions and the pushing. We were all in tears when that dark head pushed its way out of what seems like an impossibly small opening! What an amazing process birth is -- everyone should be allowed the privilege of seeing it from the foot of the bed, just once!

Welcome baby Samuel Dean, Asked of God, Heard by God, named for Samuel the prophet who anointed Saul and David as kings of Israel in the Old Testament. May you live up to such a large name. And Samuel bears the middle name of my late father-in-law, an unanticipated honor, and another name to live up to! We have a "Sam" in the family. Green Eggs & Ham will never be the same again!

What I Don't Know...

Posted by Terry McNichols

When I was young I was sure of everything; in a few years, having been mistaken a thousand times, I was not half so sure of most things as I was before; at present, I am hardly sure of anything but what God has revealed to me. John Wesley

This reminds me of something that struck me profoundly when I was in graduate school. My professor drew a pie shape on the board and divided the pie into the following segments: what I know, what I don't know, and what I don't know that I don't know. Most of us operate with knowledge of only the first two segments and are unaware of how what we don't know that we don't know can influence us even more profoundly than the other two areas. Many of our thoughts, emotions, and knee-jerk reactions that don't seem to make sense come from what we don't even realize we don't know.

I think that therapy, self-help books, meditation and prayer, sermons, any kind of awareness-enhancing growth moves us into the opportunity of expanding what we don't know that we don't know. If all we do is move the information into the "I don't know" category, we have at least opened up the possibility of change.
(Photo by David Reece, shared via Flickr)

1,000 mirrors

Long ago in a small village [or so the story goes] there was a place known as the House of a Thousand Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place and decided to visit. When he arrived, he bounced happily up the stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the door with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as he could.

To his great surprise, he found himself staring at 1,000 other happy little dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great smile, and was answered with 1,000 great smiles just as friendly. As he left the house, he thought to himself, "This is a wonderful place, I will come back and visit often."

In the same village another little dog, who was not as happy as the first one, visited the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked through the door. When he saw the 1,000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1,000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, "This is a horrible place, I will never come back here again." (Author unknown)

All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflection do we see in the faces of the people we meet? And what kind of face do they see in you and me?

(Photo by yeechr-photo, shared via Flickr)

Rerun Wednesday - Caring for aging parents

Posted by Leona Bergstrom

Those of us in midlife whose parents are still living will no doubt face an array of paradoxical feelings, emotions and realities regarding their care and support. We find ourselves perplexed, confused, frustrated, and also blessed. We want so much to obey the command to “honor our mothers and fathers,” but we struggle with wanting to maintain our own boundaries, not wanting to intrude, and simply not knowing what to do. Everyone’s story is different, but one thing is common: We must learn when to hang on and when to let go – and when to seek help.

I am often asked for resources in how to lovingly and wisely care for our parents. One very helpful source is a website/blog written by my colleague and friend David Solie. He is a physician assistant as well as an insurance industry professional. I find his insights to be intriguing and encouraging. A recent post addresses the issue of stress in caring for aging parents. I think it is wise counsel. I wish I had written it.

Check out David's book for further insights.

Shingles

Posted by Terry McNichols
A good friend of mine has recently come down with shingles. She is 57 years old and is in a very high stress work situation, working for a bank that has recently gone under. Her job at this point is to help others find new employment, and the task is daunting. To now add to her troubles, she has a horrendous case of shingles.

According to WebMD:

Shingles occurs when the virus that causes chickenpox starts up again in your body. After you get better from chickenpox, the virus "sleeps" (is dormant) in your nerve roots. In some people, it stays dormant forever. In others, the virus "wakes up" when disease, stress, or aging weakens the immune system. It is not clear why this happens. But after the virus becomes active again, it can only cause shingles, not chickenpox.

You can't catch shingles from someone else who has shingles....While you have shingles, you can spread chickenpox to people who have never had chickenpox.

I will not be posting any medical pictures of shingles, but you can find several, as well as a lot more information, on the WebMD site. (Or click on this picture for a yukky slide show.)
I mentioned to my friend that I had recently had the shingles vaccine. She did not know that such a vaccine was available. The shingles vaccine is newly available and is known as Zostavax and is recommended for adults 60 and older, whether or not they've had shingles before. There is information about the vaccine from the Center for Disease Control. The vaccine has only been tested in people over 60 years of age at this point. I heard about it and was interested because both my mother and my sister have had painful bouts of shingles. There are pros and cons for any type of vaccine, of course, but the pain and suffering that occurs from a case of shingles is a good reason to consider getting the vaccine.