Category: Family

NEXT Labor Day??

Ahhhhhh.   That’s me breathing a big sigh of relief after safely and happily delivering Aaron to meet his group today.  After a long break from Paradigm for the Labor Day weekend, I fully expected a grouchy Aaron to come barreling down the stairs this morning.  This fear was further confirmed when I heard him open his bedroom door early this morning.  An early rising after a long weekend at home usually means one thing………an unhappy Aaron not wanting to enter into his normal routine again.  It almost always points to Aaron sighing deeply while telling me how tired he is and that he can’t go to Paradigm, etc., etc. 

So I braced myself when after a few minutes I heard Aaron’s unmistakable loud thumping down the stairs.  His steps sounded chipper, not slow and labored, so maybe just maybe  he would be happy this morning.  He came into the family room carrying his big fuzzy brown blanket, his fuzzy black pillow that goes behind his back while he watches TV, his yucky hand towel that he carries everywhere because he never knows when he will need to wipe something yucky off of his hands onto his handy yucky towel, and his back scratcher that not only scratches his back but mostly is used to whack the arm of the couch or the ottoman – loudly. 

I still sat cautiously at the kitchen table as I tried to determine his mood.  “Mom!” he exclaimed.  “I slept well last night!”  Then I knew that he was happy on this post Labor Day morning.  We were off to a great start and I was very relieved, though I didn’t let Aaron know that.  No need to call attention yet to the fact that going to Paradigm was on the horizon.  Aaron continued, “Mom, last night I was reading in my Handy History Answer book.  I was reading about the Huns!”  He paused as he always does for me to have a chance to show that I am interested in hearing more about the Huns………although even if I don’t express such interest he’ll tell me more…….much, much more……about the Huns than I ever wanted to know. 

He did continue, of course.  “I’ve never heard of the Huns,” he said.  I reminded him that he had heard of the Huns back in school but somehow he didn’t seem to remember.  He was surprised that they were fighters and then said, “I thought they sounded like a religion kind of church group.” 

Nuns, Aaron.  That would be nuns.  Not Huns.

And I was glad that Aaron was making me laugh this morning instead of making me do something like pulling out my hair, as he sometimes does.  We’ve had a little of both on this long weekend just behind us.  The hair pulling hasn’t been over anything bad,  but listening to long drawn-out eternal conversations about the movie The Fly……..and then the movie Ghost Rider……..has been pretty overwhelming at times.  “Mom!  That guy was transformating into a fly in that machine!!”  And off he flew from there with all the talk of The Fly……and then Ghost Rider and flaming skeletons and watching multiple movie clips of both movies and trying to pay attention and answer a myriad of questions that I don’t know the answers to……….or even care to know the answers to……….

Tiring, to say the least.  And Aaron still talked to matter what we were doing.  He talked when we took Jackson on a walk.  He talked when we went shopping.  He talked when we went out to eat.  He talked when we watched racing on television, pausing long enough to see his brother, Andrew, on ESPN and being totally unimpressed.  Now if Andrew had been transformating into a fly or if he was a flaming skeleton, Aaron would have been very impressed.   Otherwise, not so much.

He also talked when we played Tri-Ominos. I dug out that old game and Aaron has enjoyed playing it once again.  Of course, he also spends a great deal of time making sure that all the edges of the many Tri-Ominos pieces are put together as perfectly as possible.  Scoot, scoot, scoot all those little triangles around!  But it does keep him focused on something else for awhile other than The Fly and Ghost Rider. 


So did finding a pile of Brain Seed Pods in our neighbor’s yard while we took our walk.  Oh, I know some people call them Hedge Apples but to Aaron they are Brain Seed Pods……..always have been and always will be.    

He also found a new television show to watch and TALK about this weekend.  It’s Animal Planet’s Call of the Wildman………about Turtleman.  This guy is wild and crazy and catches animals that are bothering people……….and Aaron loves him, naturally.  Aaron’s world is expanding, I guess.  Now we’ll be listening to a wild man on TV and living with one for real.

Back to reality, it was good to see Aaron be compliant and happy all morning with not one wild moment.  He took some baby carrots to give to Rosie along with a small bottle of juice.  He loves taking something to give to Rosie.  As I talked to his driver this morning, Aaron heard us saying that Paradigm was technically open yesterday but very few clients were there.  He got a wild look in those eyes of his as he blurted out, “Mom?!  Can I stay home on Labor Day??”

“Aaron,” I calmly answered, “you just stayed home on Labor Day.”

“I mean NEXT year!!” he continued.  “Can I stay home NEXT year on Labor Day?!!” 

Oh dear.  He was in no mood now to be laughed at, so I had to wait until I drove off to laugh loudly at his urgency to make sure he gets to stay home NEXT year on Labor Day.

And so life returns to normal after our holiday weekend………whatever normal is for us with our special, and sometimes slightly wild, Aaron.

The Power of Pancakes

I hadn’t been sitting on our patio very long on this beautiful Monday morning when the door opened and there came Aaron.  Remember yesterday?  I wrote about happy Aaron……happy to talk and talk…..happy to eat and to try a new smoothie…….happy to watch Zookeeper……..and happy to talk and talk about Zookeeper, among other things.  But this morning I saw a very different Aaron.  This Aaron was disheveled and frowning and tired.  Very enormously tired.  His finger was wrapped in a band-aid because he had torn a large piece of skin off near his nail.  And to top off his misery, he knew that Dad and I had taken the van in for some repairs.  This meant that his Paradigm driver would be picking him up at home today instead of us meeting them at Quik Trip like we normally do.  A change in routine on top of huge tiredness was putting Aaron on overload, and putting me on alert.

“Do I have to go today?” he asked.  I told him yes, knowing this wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but still saying it with a smile and some pep.  Aaron wasn’t buying it.  “Why?” he asked, this time with an angry edge to his voice.  So I gave him the reasons that I always give……..that this is where he goes and what he does; that he has fun there; that he has friends there……and he angrily replied, “I don’t care!” 

Now the pep in my voice changed to firmness and he settled down in his chair for a minute.  Then I told him that I was going to pour his coffee before I went up to shower.  He was quiet.  So I asked, “Hey, would you like some pancakes?”  And Aaron told me that he did NOT want pancakes………so I said OK and we sat there in silence for a minute or two.  I finally pushed out of my chair and turned to open the door to go inside.  Aaron was right behind me, and as the door closed and I turned to pour his coffee, he said, “OK.  I’ll take some pancakes.”

I got out the old cookbook – one that I’ve had since Gary and I got married.  I stirred together the pancake batter as the skillet heated, and soon I had three pancakes ready for Aaron to eat.  By now he was enjoying the music I was playing, and was talking away, relaxed and happy.  He took the plate of pancakes to the table, along with many pieces of silverware and the napkins and toothpicks and the comics.  He spied the next three pancakes that were soon ready and claimed them as well.  As he saw me finish making the last pancakes, he asked if I would sit at the table with him and eat as well.  I really wanted to go take my shower and get this day going, but I knew that he wanted me to stay there and so I did.  I munched on a pancake and listened to Aaron talk, of course.


He was very excited to tell me that he had finished the chapter he was reading in his Handy Science Answer Book.  “Last night I finished that one chapter and I arrived in that other chapter,” he proudly told me.  He went up to his room so that he could bring the book down and show me where he had arrived in the book.  He talked about numbers again, like he did yesterday, except today it was things like Pi and what it means and why it’s used……..and I suggested that he read that part of his book again instead of asking me.  Aaron finished his breakfast and went upstairs to shower while I cleaned the kitchen and got the sprinklers turned on outside.  After his shower, I put some medicine on his finger along with a clean band-aid.  I helped him with his belt, and he asked for help with his shoes, too…….saying that his finger hurt.
 
The morning was slipping away from me.  I knew I might be in the shower when Aaron’s ride came, and knowing that he was still a little “iffy” about the ride business and the whole idea of going today, I decided to wait on my shower until Aaron left.  Therefore, we sat on the front porch watching the sprinklers water our new grass seed.  Aaron was happy to have my time and attention, of course, so he talked and talked…………mostly about the Zookeeper movie once again.  Oh my goodness, he remembers every scene and wants to dissect every conversation and every look and every mannerism.  The heat and the sound of the sprinklers and his monotone voice was driving me nearly into a state of deep sleep……..but every time I felt my eyes closing, I’d hear him saying, “Right, Mom?”  I would fumble with some lame answer to a question I barely heard and he was content as he moved right on to the next sentence that had to be said.

Finally, his ride came and off Aaron went.  I tried to get my already late day into gear.  It wasn’t  going quite as I had planned.  I wasn’t frustrated, really.  I knew that making the pancakes and then spending time with Aaron had probably saved the day for him……..and therefore, for me in the long run.  Aaron left with a full stomach and with a back rub as we had sat on the porch glider together.  He was happy and said goodbye to me nicely.  Time spent with Aaron is never wasted, but sometimes it’s hard to let what I want to do be put aside to do what’s best for him.

Later, as I hand watered a section of our grass, I thought about how our children are like those fragile seeds that lay in the dirt.  They need watering and care, even when we don’t feel like it on some days.  We understand this as mothers, especially when our children are still young enough to live at home and be under our care.  But when we are older, and our children are older, the watering is mostly done and we then have more time to pursue other things.  Yet there I was this morning, making pancakes for my 28 year old son…….and sitting with him on the porch glider…….and rubbing his back……….and listening to his constant talking. 

I still have watering to do for this boy who is a man in years only.  It is not another’s responsibility but is what God has given Gary and I to do.  As I watered that seed, I thought of other moms that I know who are caring for grandchildren full-time…………or who are raising more than one child with special needs……..or who happily take foster children into their homes.  These women amaze me!  I was humbled as I thought about them and I felt very blessed to have their example to spur me on toward victory in this walk.  There’s not much room for selfishness, that’s for sure. 

Over the weekend, I had told Aaron that we should play Tri-Ominos sometime.  It’s been a long time since we played that game.  He asked me to play it with him tonight.  It was tempting to say no, but something made me think again………something about that seed that I had watered.  And those pancakes that I had made this morning.  So we played a round of Tri-Ominos tonight.  It was good.  He and I were content.  And as I urged him later to be quiet because Dad was in bed, needing his sleep for another hard day of work tomorrow, Aaron asked me to just tickle his back for a minute as we stood by his bed.  I wasn’t really wanting to do that, but I’m glad I did it.  You know why? 

Because Aaron told me about seeing the Hyatt Hotel downtown, except he pronounced it “Hi-yot.”  So Aaron said, “Mom, what is the Hi-yot downtown?” 

“The what?” I asked.

“The Hi-yot,” he repeated.  “You know.  That hotel.”

And I laughed, and Aaron didn’t mind that I laughed.  He said that Barb laughed at Paradigm, too, when he told her about the Hi-yot.  Which made me laugh again as Aaron stood there enjoying the back tickling.  If I hadn’t been tickling Aaron’s back, I perhaps would never have heard about the Hi-yot.  And I would not have had the laughter that warmed my heart and this memory that draws my heart to Aaron. 

No moment is wasted with our children…….not a single one.  From pancakes to the Hi-yot……..it was a good day.

Rushing To Be Ahead

Last week was a wonderful week.  Andrea got to come home as she had a break between summer school that had just ended and the beginning of her fall semester in grad school.  She drove in from Fort Worth on Monday.  Aaron had been excited for days about her arrival.  He wondered what day she would get here, what time she would arrive, how long was she staying, was she bringing her dogs, etc., etc.  He loves his sister……….and even though Aaron is the oldest of our children, he seems to be the youngest because of his childlike ways.

Andrew also was able to come in on Tuesday from Missouri.  He had a break from traveling with Scott Palmer Racing, so the timing was perfect for all of us to have this rare time together.  Aaron has, for many years, been rather jealous of Andrew.  We don’t know if it’s a “boy” thing or just what, but where Aaron sees Andrea more as a mother figure – he sees Andrew more as competition.  He views Andrew as competing with him for our time and attention.  We always tell Aaron that this isn’t true……..that we love them both equally, but that we don’t see Andrew very often and so we do want to spend time with him while he’s here.  Aaron will say, “When Andrew’s here you just want to talk to him and not to me.”  But he doesn’t say the same about our time with Andrea. 

I wondered how the days together would go and how Aaron would treat Andrew.  When we all sat down to eat supper on Tuesday evening, though, it went very well.  Aaron didn’t say anything rude or mean to Andrew.  Of course, Aaron doesn’t ever walk up and say, “Hi, Andrew (or Andrea)!  It’s so good to see you!”  We would probably fall over in a dead faint if he did that.  Instead he just barrels into the room and basically ignores the “new” person as he launches into some topic about a movie or a game or an event or just whatever will keep him talking……..and will help him avoid the uncomfortable reality of actually saying hello.  On Monday, when Aaron returned from his group, he barged in the door as always and there was Andrea.  Aaron never said hello or acted at all excited to see her……..but he was.  He just started talking about some random something, and then would refer to her as if she was always there.  I finally asked him if he was going to say hello and he laughed awkwardly.  Then if you listened very carefully, you would have heard him mutter his hello, very fast and very softly.  There!  That was done!  Andrea laughed, and then gave him a special giraffe ball point pen that she had bought just for him.  I had to urge him to say thanks, again uncomfortably, but he was truly delighted with his new pen………and with the fact that his sister knows how much he loves ball point pens!

Aaron wanted to stay home from his day group while Andrea and Andrew were here.  My first inclination was to insist that he go to his group, but then I mentally stepped back and realized that he desired to be as much a part of the family togetherness as the rest of us.  Yes, he also had the ulterior motive of just wanting to stay home, but I knew that his decision was rooted in the urge to be a part of what we were doing.  It can be more hectic with Aaron around……more frustrating………louder……….less adult-like on certain levels……….but Aaron is a part of our family and so I decided to let him stay home. 

On Wednesday we all went to Tanganyika Wildlife Park, just a couple miles from our house.  I wondered how Aaron would do in the heat of this summer day.  Would he be impatient to go from display to display?  Would he be grouchy in the heat?  Would he demand all of my attention?  However, we were all pleasantly surprised at how well he did.  He truly enjoyed the day despite the heat.  He fed many of the animals, including the rhino.  He pet the kangaroos and he rode the camel.  He wasn’t pushy or intrusive, and he didn’t make us hurry along because he was unhappy.  Can you tell how other trips in the past have been?  This day was truly a delight to us……….and a surprise.  It was a gift in so many ways.

We ended the afternoon with a stroll through the gift shop, where Aaron was very happy that I bought him a shirt.  As we walked out the door and headed toward the van, I noticed that Aaron picked up his pace and was walking ahead of Andrew, Andrea, and me.  I knew exactly what he was doing.  “Look,” I told Andrew and Andrea.  “Aaron is hurrying because he wants to get to the van first and grab the front seat again.”  We all laughed quietly and then Andrew told us to watch.  He walked up beside Aaron and then with his long legs he began to pick up the pace.  Not to be outdone, Aaron kept right up with Andrew.  Then Andrew kicked it up another notch, his long legs easily outpacing Aaron’s short legs.  But Aaron was not to be outdone, so with his arms pumping he kept up with Andrew’s stride.  And as they walked side by side, Aaron was saying, “Um.  Um.  Um.”  This was his way of trying to look like he was keeping up with Andrew because he wanted to talk…………but we all knew better.  Aaron wanted that front seat for sure!!

Instead of the frustration that would have been present 10 or 15 years ago, though, there were smiles and knowing glances between the three of us as we watched Aaron win the race……….thanks to Andrew’s kindness.  It really was very funny.  There was Aaron, stuck in his childhood………..determined to ride shotgun like he did years ago.  Striving for the best seat…….wanting to be ahead.  And there were my other two adult children, not making fun of Aaron but enjoying the moment and enjoying this unique person that is their brother.  Able to laugh at his funny ways and appreciate who he is. 

Andrew, Aaron, and Andrea
Aaron doesn’t realize how much things have changed over the years.  When we’re all together, he’s still in childhood mode with the competition for his place and for our attention.  If he only knew, or cared, about what I see.  I see our other two children, now adults, who have grown in their love and understanding of their brother.  Oh, they still roll their eyes and sigh deep sighs and grit their teeth and say, “Aaron!!” plenty of times.  But in their hearts, they realize more than ever who Aaron is.  It’s as if the dust has settled and they can step back and see life more clearly……..Aaron’s life.  Time and maturity sure do make a huge difference.   There were times that I wondered if I would ever see this level of love and understanding from them.  Living with a special needs child can be very taxing for the siblings, especially when disruptive behaviors are a large part of the picture.  Sometimes it takes years for all of it to make sense and for acceptance to occur. 

Aaron doesn’t need to try to stay ahead, but he doesn’t know that.  So he’ll still grab the front seat and feel like he’s gained a victory over his brother and sister.  And we’ll still smile and wink at each other, and tell the story behind his back of how he rushed ahead to be the first. 

And we’ll still love Aaron, even when he’s pushing to be ahead and not thinking of anyone but himself.  I’ve said it a lot, but some things will never change.

  

FADING AWAY

 

I called my mother on Sunday afternoon – Mother’s Day.  The phone rang a few times and her answering machine picked up.  Just as the familiar recording began, I heard Mom’s voice faintly say hello.  I knew then that I had awakened her from a nap.  I waited for the recording to end, for the beep of the machine to subside, and then I spoke to her.  She was confused for a minute as she tried to clear her mind.  Being roused from sleep always causes her to be very confused.  I told her who I was and that I just wanted to call her on her special day – Mother’s Day.  She was pleased, and as always, her ingrained politeness kicked in as she thanked me for calling.  It was almost as if she was talking to a casual acquaintance and not her daughter.
When I asked how she was doing, Mom told me that she had been in bed for awhile and that she really didn’t know why.  As we talked and her mind cleared, she was still very uncertain about herself.  Each time I talk to her, I can read between the lines and I know that she is failing mentally.  Actually, I don’t even have to read between the lines.  Her end of our conversations are most often very vague and this vagueness speaks so clearly of just how unclear she now is mentally.
We didn’t talk very long on Sunday.  Once the answering machine went off, she couldn’t understand me.  We said goodbye and hung up.  I called Jan then, and she told me that Mom was suffering from a bout of her severe colitis.  Bob and Jan, and John and Jeanie, take care of Mom as she lives in the beautiful assisted living center that she has called home for nearly two years.  They know all too well how her mental state is changing.  One of the saddest things that Jan told me was when Mom opened her Mother’s Day card from John and Jeanie, and she asked who John and Jeanie are.  It’s not the first time that she has shown that level of forgetfulness, but it’s always alarming to see.
When I call Mom and tell her my name, I’m not so sure that she always knows that this Patty is her daughter.  Her realization seems to come and go as we talk.  She never asks about our children by name but will instead ask me how the family is doing.  She is always pleased when I give her a report on Gary and each of our children.  Mom has that social politeness that is a part of her fabric, so she exhibits happiness as she hears about Aaron, Andrea, and Andrew.  But does she even know that these are her grandchildren?  And this polite conversation lacks the depth of familial closeness that we always shared.  Something is missing.
What’s missing is………Mom.  Her very being has slowly been drifting away as the effects of her dementia increase.  She is living and breathing and talking, but MOM is fading away.  We still have her with us, and yet we don’t.  It’s a different sort of death.  We watched Dad fight cancer for eight years……….eight mostly good years.  He kept his mind all through this time.  His kindness……his wit……..his dear humor and sweetness and awareness never left him.  We could still share life with him, hard as it was, even as his own life was slipping away.

But with my dear mother, there is very little sharing now.  There is surface talk and politeness, but the soul and the connections are mostly gone……..from her side.  For us – her children and grandchildren – we are always connected to her in ways that she probably no longer feels.  We must accept, though, that the motherly affirmation and expression that even as adults we still long for……..are for the most part gone.

So many times I have found myself thinking that I would call Mom and ask her for some advice……….ask her how she made a certain dish……..ask her for a bit of family history that I wonder about.  But then I know that most or all of this part of her is gone.  Forever gone.  This is a sobering realization.  My totally competent, amazingly organized and gifted mother, is now the one who needs Jan or Jeanie to organize and manage her daily life.

 

She no longer looks at her calendar and knows that March 20 is her anniversary or that May 2 was Dad’s birthday or that September 14 is her own birthday.  This past Christmas, Jan wrote a note that was taped on each of  Mom’s presents under her tree.  The note simply said, “Do Not Open.”  Yet shortly before Christmas day, Bob and Jan walked in to Mom’s apartment and found that she had opened every single present……….and was ready to put the tree away.  We smile as we see in that episode a side of our organized mother that is still there.  Let’s get the show on the road and then clean up the mess!

 

Mom’s wit and her love of jokes and puns is almost legendary.  Yet now, at least when I talk to her, she seems rather flat.  Conversation lags between us because she has trouble with making important connections.  It’s hard to find something to talk about when she can’t even remember what that thing is that her cat, Princess, sits in front of………and I gently remind her that it is a window.  “Oh yes!” she says.  “The window!”  And I am struck with just how deeply she is affected……….and how deeply then we all are affected by this fading of her mind and memory.

 

I love this picture of her, though, still working at The Hunger Challenge at Johnston Chapel.  Still serving and smiling and enjoying being able to help.  That part of our mother is still there, as is her kindness and her concern for others.  This exemplifies my mother to her core, and I’m thankful that she can still physically do these things, though somewhat limited.

 

This gradual letting go…….this sitting on the sidelines of her life and watching her gradually slip away……..is heartbreaking for all of us.  There is really nothing we can do but be there for her, as Bob and Jan, and John and Jeanie, are every day.  We can tell her about our families, even as we sense that she’s not sure exactly who we are talking about.

 

And we can, and do, tell her how much we love her.  Someday even those words won’t really reach her.  But we reach into our hearts and into our memories, and we recognize her value to each of us in so many different ways.  Our love for her is not based on her memory or lack thereof.

 

I also realize how important it is that I say to my children the words that I want them to hear from me.  Someday I may not be able to say them, even though I may still be here physically.  Words of encouragement, instruction, family history, and love………words I hope they store away in their hearts forever.

 

Our sweet little mommy is fading away, but her example and influence is as strong as ever.  In fact, her impact in our lives is eternal and we are all so thankful for that fact…..and for her.

 

We can smile through our tears and be thankful for all that she was…….and still is today.

 

 

Seeing the Wonder

 

Aaron woke up a little earlier than usual this morning.  I heard him come slowly to my bedroom and knock on the door.  He knocked because the door was locked……….otherwise he would have bolted right in……….which is why I had the door locked.  Anyway, he immediately wanted to show me something about his lip.  His lips are chapped and during the night his lower lip cracked and bled some.  Aaron twisted his mouth sideways as he attempted to show me his damaged lip, and then he silently pointed to the dried blood on his lower lip and on the side of his mouth.
 
Satisfied that I was appropriately impressed, he said, “Mom!  There’s blood on my pillow!”  And with that, he strode with purpose back to his room and returned carrying his large body pillow that he loves.  Sure enough, there was a big spot of blood on the white pillowcase.  To be sure that I understood, he explained, “Mom, the lip area was on that pillow area.” 
 
I thanked him for explaining that, and told him that we would get him a new pillow this evening.  He knew that we had a Wal-Mart trip planned when he returns from Paradigm, so this news of a pillow purchase made him very happy.
 
He and I went downstairs to the kitchen, where I poured his coffee while he took his morning pills.  He spied some boiled eggs in a pot in the sink.  “Mom, what are those?  Eggs?” 
 
“Yes, Aaron, those are eggs.  Do you want one?” I asked.
 
He looked down at the eggs and replied, “No.  I want some……….not one.”
 
I laughed.  He was serious. 
 
“What number is some?”  he asked. 
 
Again I laughed.  Again he was serious. 
 
“How about two?” I queried.
 
“Can I have three?”  he countered.
 
And so I guess that to Aaron, some is not two.  Some is at least three.
 
I agreed that he could have three and then asked him if he wanted them sliced. 
 
“Yes,” he replied, “with that harp.”
 
 
This time I smiled with my back to Aaron as I got out the egg “harp.”  He was still serious about this matter of “some” eggs, while I was again enjoying how fun Aaron’s world can be.  He takes the most mundane of matters and makes it so distinctive. 
 
Later, we drove to meet his group and listened to my Carpenter’s CD.  He was talking about a movie where a robot from the future comes back to the present, and he said, “How come he doesn’t know what type of year it is?”  Just then, I heard the Carpenters sing,”…….there is wonder in most everything I see……”
 
That would be a perfect description of Aaron.  He either sees wonder in everything or he’s wondering about everything, but his take on life is so interesting.
 
Just like us with Aaron.  We’re either scratching or pounding our heads in wonder, or laughing at the wonder of the world that Aaron sees and shares.  I guess he keeps our brains sharp as we try to follow his thinking.  And with that I’ll close.
 
I need to go dry and put away the egg harp.

Love is Too Dumb!

Emotions are the nebulous workings of our inner being that manifest themselves outwardly in many ways, as we all know and experience daily.  For the typical person with Asperger’s, emotions are very difficult to feel or to manifest.  Anger and outbursts, along with being very blunt, do occur.  But the very normal emotions that we have, such as empathy or love, often stay buried deep inside the person with autism.  I am convinced that they feel these emotions, or some variation of them, but their inability to process and to display these feelings like we do often make these special persons appear to be unloving, for instance, or uncaring. 

Recently, while Andrea was still here for Christmas, Aaron was asking his usual question as we drove to meet his day group.  “Mom, can you and I do something tonight?  Maybe play Skip-Bo or do our backs?”   I told him that I wasn’t sure because Andrea and I had rented some movies that we needed to watch before she returned to Texas.  Then I told him that he was welcome to watch a movie with us that evening.

He quickly sniffed in disdain at that idea, explaining that he bet we were going to watch a movie about love.  I asked him what was wrong with a movie about love and he wisely explained, “Love is too dumb in love story movies!!”

I laughed and then tried to discuss the merits of love, but he would have none of it.  No love story movies for Aaron!  He’ll take aliens or genetically altered, ravenous mutations any day over love and kissing!!

Saturday afternoon, Andrea was all packed and ready to head back to Texas.   She went upstairs to say goodbye to Aaron, who continued to play his computer game while she stood there telling him that she was leaving.  She asked him if she could give him a hug and he just gave his deep, throaty chuckle……….but no hug from him as she gave him a squeeze anyway.  She understands this about Aaron……..about how uncomfortable he is with these displays of emotion.  She laughed as she told us about it.

Yesterday Aaron stood by the table in the kitchen where I was working on something.  He wanted to talk.  Well, he always wants to talk but sometimes he wants to really talk…….you know, about something that is on his mind beyond aliens or weather or global warming…
“Mom, will Andrea come over again?”   I assured him that, yes, Andrea would come over again but we don’t know when.  School starts again tomorrow and she’ll be very busy, I told him.

He continued, “You know……Andrea……I noticed……she seems to like me.”

Well, of course she likes you, Aaron!  She likes you a lot!

And he said, “She uses that word……….I love you.”

There was that small glimpse into Aaron’s heart that he sometimes allows us to see.  Aaron may not use that word often…….that “I love you” word.  But he does understand its significance and he does love to be told that he is loved.  He rarely returns that “I love you” word, but he does keep it in his heart each time that it is spoken to him.  And after all, isn’t that what is most important………..that he is told and he knows that he is loved?

As a mother of a child of whatever age with whatever special need, we don’t always receive many outward expressions of love or appreciation.  But it’s not about us, is it?  It’s about these precious people that God has entrusted to us, to love and to nurture and to train and to protect.  We show them love……….the love of a parent and the love of God……….knowing that we may seldom if ever receive that same love in return.

But they know…….they know if they are loved, and this love warms their hearts just as love warms our hearts.  Sometimes Aaron is hard to like, but I will never stop loving him.  And I pray that I will never stop telling him that “I love you” word that he seems to most often ignore. 

He says, “Love is too dumb in love story movies!”  But I don’t believe for a minute that he feels that way about his own heart. 

What Dad Taught Me in Death

 

I’ve heard it said that our parents are the most important teachers that we will ever have.  I would agree with that statement, for as we grow we are constantly watching our parents……..listening and absorbing and learning through their words and deeds.  Hopefully the lessons learned are good ones.  My parents were very beneficial in my life in more ways than I can count.  Yet some of the lessons that I treasure the most are the lessons I learned as I watched my dad live the last month of his life on earth.  What were some of those lessons?
 
1.  Know When to Ask For Help
 
Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2000, and with liver cancer in 2004.   In September of 2008, dad was put into Hospice care.  We knew that no more could be done for him medically, so as he declined I told him and Mom to let me know when they wanted me to come and help them.  I got that call on November 2, and in a few days I was on a plane headed home.  I was fearful of what I would find and how I would handle all the emotion of what was ahead, but I was very thankful that I had the opportunity to go and help my dear parents.
 
2.  Don’t Stop Thinking of Others
 
Dad had always been very kind and sweet to others, and loved reaching out to help people.  This continued even as he deteriorated.  I quickly learned that the real reason he had wanted me to come was that he was  worried about Mom.  He knew that she was physically more frail than she had ever been………..emotionally drained………and that she was showing signs of progressing dementia.  He was more concerned about me helping her than of me assisting him.  In fact, when I first arrived he resisted my help in several ways.  I understood this about him……his independence and his desire to maintain his privacy.   She was his first concern, even though he knew he was losing his fight to live.
 
 Later, when he finally allowed Jan and I to assist with his toileting needs, I found him crying one day as he sat in his wheelchair.  I knelt down and asked him what was wrong.  Through his tears, he told me that he was sorry to have to make us help him in that way.  I was so amazed at him…….at his selflessness and his kindness.  I assumed he was crying from embarrassment, but his tears were not for him…….they were for us.  He told me that he was sorry that he had to make us do this……..sorry for any embarrassment that we might be feeling, but not feeling sorry for himself.  I have never seen such love and concern as I saw in him at that precious moment. 
 
3.  Keep Your Routine
 
For as long as he could, Dad continued to get up early in the morning and to stay up as long as he could.  He needed help but he did not want to lay in bed all day.  He wanted to eat at the kitchen table, sitting there in his wheelchair and eating oh so slowly, often with his head bowed and his eyes closing.  Mom and I would speak to him, and he would perk up, slowly raising his head.  He would manage another few bites and some soft, slow conversation before slowly nodding off again.  Yet he was determined to keep going and to keep his schedule for as long as he could.
 
He also wanted to read the mail and the newspaper every day even though his eyesight was failing.  It was hard to see him struggling to read but he was not to be deterred.  He finally had Mom make an appointment with his eye doctor, even as we knew that this doctor visit would be impossible.  We didn’t tell him that, though…….we wouldn’t take away that hope that he had.
 
We would watch Little House on the Prairie videos at night.  Dad wanted to still be in charge of the remote – just like a man!  He would slowly push the volume button but he had a hard time controlling his movements, so the volume would shoot up sky high.  As he tried to correct it, the volume would go to mute.  He was frustrated but finally relinquished the remote to me and Mom. 
4.  Pay Attention to Details
 
When I first got to their home, Dad was managing to walk with his walker.   He was very, very slow…….walking with me by his side, ready to steady him when he faltered or wobbled.  Dad was always very meticulous about things and this trait continued.  He wanted his sweater on and liked it when the sweater matched his pajamas.  As he would slowly walk from room to room, he would sometimes stop and just stare down at the floor or the carpet.  Then he would ask what that spot was on the carpet, and as I looked down, sure enough I would see a bit of a leaf or a string.  I would laugh as I bent over and picked it up, and Dad would smile as I teased him about being so picky.  Yet those small details were still very important to him.  
 
5.  Mind Your Manners
 
Dad was always polite and proper, never crude or inappropriate.  I guess that’s one reason why the five of us children enjoyed teasing him.  He was great fun but he did have boundaries.  One morning as we ate breakfast, Mom……….well………..she had some gas.  She laughed and said,  “I farted!”   Dad very slowly raised his head, looked at her, and softly said,  “Passed……..gas.”   Mom and I cracked up, and Dad gently smiled – satisfied at his correction and realizing the humor of it.
 
He was always careful to say thank you when any of us helped him in any way.  Close to the end, after I had gone back to Kansas, Jan was rubbing his back and very quietly he said to her, “Do…..not…..do…..that.   Please.”   He didn’t let his situation rob him of his manners.
 
6.  Keep a Sense of Humor
 
Dad loved to laugh and smile.  He was a delight as he loved to tease in a kind way, and also was often the willing recipient of much good-natured ribbing from all of us.  Shortly after my arrival, we had to get him a hospital bed.  He was not happy about this and was especially unhappy about having the bed rail put up at night.  We had to insist, though, and he finally resigned himself to this fact.  One night as I raised the rail, he told me, “Don’t put that rail up.  I’ll remember you in the hereafter!”  And then when I walked in his room to help him out of bed in the mornings, he would greet me by calling me his prison guard or the great emancipator or other funny names having to do with my control over his freedom. 
 
One day he jokingly said, “I’m sorry for every mean thing I’ve ever said about you.  I have to stay on your good side!”  And when we bought him silly pajama pants he went along with the fun.  One day when Jan and I teasingly asked him which of us was his favorite, he immediately looked straight at his hospice nurse, Amy.  Every day there was humor from this wonderful man, even as he was suffering.
 
7.  Show Love
 
Mom and Dad were very close, especially after they both retired.  They were hardly ever apart.  When Dad had to start using the hospital bed, it was the first time in nearly 60 years of marriage that they had slept in separate beds.  We pushed his bed very close to their bed, and at night Mom would lay there with her hand between the rails of Dad’s bed.  They held hands or she would rest her hand on his arm…….still together and still close despite this circumstance. 
 
There were times that I would be holding Dad up as he stood, and there would be a pause.  I would turn to look and find that he had put his frail, skinny arm around Mom’s shoulders and was pulling her close to him.  I felt like an intruder to this moment of intimacy, and the tears would spill down my cheeks as they embraced.
 
In the midst of these days, there were times of stress.  One day Mom and Dad were facing one of those frustrating moments.  I waited in the living room until it was time for me to help him to the couch.  I sat there and laid my head on his shoulder, telling him I was sorry for how hard it was at that moment.  He smiled his sweet smile, very slowly raised his head, and said, “Smooth………it………over.”   I’ll never forget those wise words. 
 
8.  Always Pray
 
Dad continued to pray for as long as he could.  His walk with the Lord all of his life was of primary importance to him, and that never diminished even as he was weak and full of pain.  One of my dearest memories of my time there was of his quiet, halting prayers before meals.  He continued to lead us in prayer for as long as he was able.  He rarely asked anything for himself, but thanked the Lord and then made requests for others.  When my niece, Ruth, had a tumor removed from her spine, Dad was heart broken for her.  He would always pray for Ruth, sometimes with tears.  Always thinking of others………..that was my Dad.
 
9.  Be Ready to Go

 

Dad was afraid to die.  This fact puzzled me at times, although I do understand.  It’s just that Dad had such a close walk with the Lord and I was surprised at his fear.  However, as we talked I realized that he was afraid of leaving Mom…….both for her sake and for his………both of them without the other for the first time ever.  He was looking forward to seeing Jesus, but wondering what he would say to his Savior.  Dad liked having everything thought out and orderly, and this dying process was anything but orderly and known. 
 
Finally one night, John spent some time talking alone with Dad…….assuring him of things about heaven and answering his questions.  This comforted Dad greatly, and later that night Dad shared these things with Mom and me.   Our hospice nurse had told us that often a person needs to be released to die, so that night through our tears we told Dad that it was all right for him to go on to heaven……….that we would be fine and most important, Mom would be well taken care of.
 
 
A few days after that conversation, on Dec. 4, I tucked Dad into his bed at night.  I adjusted his oxygen and did  all the other things I had done so many times over that past month as I got him settled.  But this time was different.  I was leaving early the next morning to fly back to Kansas and to my family.  Dad knew it was time for me to go, but I think he was afraid.  Jan and John would be there, but I had been with him full-time for a month and he had come to depend on that.
 
As I leaned down to tell him good night, the tears fell.  I kissed him, and then he asked me if I would come back after Christmas.  I assured him that I would, even as I knew that it was unlikely he would be there at Christmas.  One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was to kiss him that last time and walk out of his room.  I went home to Kansas the next day, and Dad went home to heaven five days later.  Oh, we miss him! 
 
But I am ever so thankful for that month with him and with Mom, and for so many special memories shared and lessons learned.  What a hope we all have, too, as we know that we’ll all be together in heaven one day.  I didn’t get to see Dad again as I assured him I would, but I do have the assurance that I WILL see him again………..for eternity.
 
And I want to thank him for all that he taught me in life, but especially for what he taught me in death.
            

My Favorite Christmas Tree

I love that time when all the Christmas decorating is finally done.  The boxes that now contain our everyday items are stacked safely back in the storage room; the floors have been vacuumed free of all the stray glitter and the small strands of green that have fallen from the garland and the tree; and the extension cords are full of the extra plug-ins that allow the Christmas village and the Christmas greenery to beautifully twinkle.  There in the center of it all, commanding the most attention, is our Christmas tree.  I enjoy sitting on the couch in the living room whenever I can, taking in the sight of our tree and basking in the warmth that it helps to create in my heart.
 
I had always wanted a large, full Christmas tree.  Finally, several years ago, I found the tree……….THE tree that I had always wanted.  It was on sale, so the price was right.  Our other tree was literally falling apart after years of use, so the timing was right.  I bought the tree and for these several years we have fully delighted in its beauty.  Yet as I sit near this lovely tree, I am taken back in my memory to another tree………..another time.

The year was 1979.  Gary and I had gotten married that year and were preparing to spend our first married Christmas together.  I had graduated the year before from Piedmont Bible College.  Gary was still a student there, finishing up his degree in Theology.  We lived in a little house not far from campus, and like most students we scrimped in order to make ends meet.  Our house was full of hand-me-downs from family……….bedding, curtains, furniture.  We had some new items from wedding showers and gifts, but back then there were no gift registries and certainly very few young couples with houses full of the best and the finest.  Gary had made us a simple stereo stand out of cement blocks that we had painted, and we would enjoy our records and our 8-tracks and cassettes in the living room as we sat on our second-hand furniture.  Life was sweet and we were very blessed.

Gary worked several jobs in order to provide for us in the midst of attending classes.  I worked full-time in the school library, and took a class or two on the side.  I remember how we budgeted $25.00 a week for groceries………..how excited I was when Gary’s mother gave us lots of venison and taught me how to cook it……..and the pumpkins that she brought us and helped me to prepare and freeze.  I remember going to see my parents and how touched my Mom was when she heard Gary say, as he looked at her roast, “Look!  There’s beef and it’s not ground!”  We all laughed, and of course Gary and I were given the leftover roast to take back to our little house in North Carolina.  I remember the time that my cart of groceries was stolen in front of the grocery store as I went to get my car, and how devastated I was……….and how the manager of the store let me take my receipt and get the same groceries at no charge.  God always provided!

On our first Christmas I knew that we could not afford a real tree………or any tree, for that matter.  I didn’t make it a big deal, but in my heart I was a little sad.  I took out a small oval wooden stool, and on it I placed the tiny artificial tree that my college roommate and I had shared during our dorm years.  It really was comical to see our little Charlie Brown tree perched in our living room, hardly noticeable as it attempted to adorn our room.  Any gifts that would be placed around it would soon dwarf this miniature tree.  We laughed and we determined to treat this tree as special as if it was huge and ornately decorated.  We were young and we were in love, relishing our first Christmas together as husband and wife.

Yet Gary knew my heart and he knew that a tree, a real tree…..and a taller tree…….would thrill his new wife.  One day I came home from work and routinely began to hang up my coat and think about preparing some supper.  I stepped into the living room in the dusk of evening and something caught my eye.  I could not believe what I saw!  There, perched in the corner, was a Christmas tree!  A real, live, honest-to-goodness Christmas tree!  I gasped and then ran to Gary, hugging him and thanking him as he smiled in delight. 

I didn’t know how he did it, but I did know that this tree was going to be beautiful.  I wish I had a picture of it now.  I would probably smile if I saw it.  I don’t remember how we decorated it, but I’m sure it was fairly sparse and simple.  Yet to me this tree, in my heart, has always been our most special tree………..my favorite tree for sure.  Not because it was huge and full……… not because it was gorgeously decked out with beautiful matching ornaments……….not because there were tons of gifts underneath.  None of those things was true about this tree.  This tree was special because it showed the heart of my husband and it demonstrated his love for me.  Despite his class schedule and all of his demanding work hours, and regardless of our lack of money, Gary somehow managed to buy me the tree that he knew would make my eyes shine brighter than any lights or ornaments ever could. 

I think of that simple tree every time we pull out our Christmas tree and get it all beautifully decorated.  I think of the love that it symbolized and the sacrifice it embodied.   I’m thankful for thirty-three years of marriage to this man who quietly goes about showing me, and showing our children, how much he loves us.  We’ve gone through a lot of Christmas trees in those years, but none holds as dear a place in my heart as that first special tree.  

The Very Special Birthday Gift

This past Thursday, Nov. 8, was Aaron’s birthday………number 28, amazingly enough!  When I went into his room to check on him and make sure he was up, I found him watching a video.  I said, “Aaron!  Today’s your birthday!”  And he replied, in his rather flat voice, “Yeah.”  But he had a smile and he rubbed his hands together, and I knew he was happy with the fact that today was finally THE day.  The countdown was over and he could now enjoy this special, once-a-year day that belonged only to him.
 
I returned to his room later to urge him to shower and get ready.  He was immersed in his video, watching…………the credits.  Yes, when Aaron watches a movie he watches every single part of it, from the very beginning to the bitter end.  This includes those credits that we usually pass up or watch briefly, at best.  Not Aaron!  He watches until the very last tiny word passes off the screen; and then when the black, blank screen appears, he is finished.  He held up his finger as I spoke to him, a sign that he is engrossed in what he is doing and that I needed to be quiet and wait my turn.  Rolling my eyes, I walked away.  His shower would have to wait until the important credits were finished.

 
I also noticed that on his desk next to him was a dinner plate full of some sort of crumbs.  I soon learned that the “crumbs” were actually pieces of peanuts.  He reached down and picked up the jar of peanuts that Dan and Wendy had bought him the night before……….and it was empty.  Yep, he was starting his day off with a bang by eating an entire jar of peanuts!  
  
Finally, he was clean and ready to begin his wonderful day.  He let me take his picture under our old family Happy Birthday banner that we hang up on each birthday, even though having his picture taken is not his favorite thing to do.  He then followed me around the house, talking as usual about whatever popped into his ever active mind.  Such as:   “Mom, something last night was so much funny!  I was reading my Handy Answer Science book.  Have you ever seen a picture of Isaac Newton?”
  
Yes, Aaron, I’ve seen a picture of Isaac Newton.  With that, Aaron laughed and then continued, “He looked like he was wearing a wig.  Did people back then not have real hair?!”   So we conversed about the fact that people have always had real hair and why they wore wigs, and on and on about hair and wigs and people “back then.”

As we drove to meet his group at Quik Trip, Aaron talked about things that he always talks about…………the funny shaped house, the bulls in the field, and the candy-cane striped cement dividers in the dentist’s parking lot.  And cappuccino.  “Mom, what is cappuccino?”  I answered that question briefly, and he said, “Last night I saw some at Braums.  It looked like a greenish dark color.  That’s nasty!”  So I assured him that it was his color blindness that caused cappuccino to be a greenish dark color, that it was really not greenish dark, and that yes………he would like cappuccino if he ever tasted it, greenish dark color and all. 

After Aaron returned from Paradigm, we picked Gary up at work on our way to Cracker Barrel, where we met Aaron’s special friend, Rosie, and her mother, Louise.  This was the first time that Rosie had joined us for Aaron’s birthday dinner.  Aaron had been so excited that she was coming and had talked about it for days.  I had told Louise not to get Aaron a gift, but several days earlier she had told me that Rosie really wanted to get something for Aaron.  So  Rosie brought a gift for Aaron………a spiral notebook, some ball point pens, and some Mike and Ikes.  And a birthday card, signed by Rosie.   So sweet………so simple………….so special.  I wasn’t sure what to expect with the two of them together, but it was so funny to see them sitting right beside each other, yet not talking.  Aaron spent the majority of the evening talking to Gary, while Rosie talked mostly to her mother and me.  Rosie likes to wear caps and to pull them over her eyes, but occasionally she would push the cap back and show her pretty, dark eyes.  On this night she had on a bright and sparkly pink hat. It was a nice evening and it was good to have the opportunity to get to know Louise better, and for us to see our special adult children together.  Their friendship is something that we are both learning to treasure and to understand.

Soon the night was over, we were home, and Aaron’s gifts were all opened.  He ends these birthdays much like he ends a movie.  The plot has been planned and carried out, the action has all taken place with the major characters involved, the credits are finished, and off he goes to his room…………carrying his gifts and moving on to the next event.  He never seems greatly  excited about most of it, though we know that he is by the way that he plans it and the way that he talks about it for weeks beforehand.  We had to urge him to thank Rosie for the gift that she gave him.  If you go by his outward reaction, he didn’t seem to be very thrilled with it.


But don’t be fooled.  Last night, when he came down to play Skip-Bo with me, he was carrying one of the pens that Rosie had given him.  He reached over and removed the usual pen from his notebook in which he records our Skip-Bo wins.  “Mom, I want to start using Rosie’s pen now in my Skip-Bo notebook.”  I told him that this was fine and he said, “Well, that old pen was almost out of ink anyway.”

I knew it wasn’t almost out of ink, but I didn’t say a word.  I left Rosie’s pen laying on the notebook.  Beside her pen was my discarded wrapper from a fruit bar that I had just eaten.  And without saying a word, Aaron reached over and moved the wrapper away from Rosie’s pen.  Then he said, “Don’t put trash near Rosie’s pen.”

And there you have it.  Rosie’s pen is a very special pen, because Rosie is very special.  You don’t put trash near Rosie’s pen.  There was a small glimpse into Aaron’s heart.  I won’t read too much into it, but I do know that Aaron has never cared about any other pen to that extent.  I value this little look into how he feels about his special friend, Rosie, and how much he treasured the gift that she gave him.  He won’t express it verbally like you and I would, or be able to write it in a pretty poem or story.  With Aaron you must be alert to these simple, brief moments in which you see into his heart and his thoughts.  It passes in a moment, and I know better than to ask probing questions or to seek more explanation from him.  I am satisfied with that moment, brief but profound.

I am thankful that Aaron has a special friend, a girl, with whom he has formed a unique connection for some unexplained reason.  Can any of us explain these things?  There is so much that Aaron will never be able to experience in this life, so having this friendship now is indeed a warm spot for him.  It’s a touch of normalcy in a world in which Aaron is usually anything but normal.  I’m glad that we invited Louise and her sweet daughter, Rosie.  I’m glad that Louise had the wisdom to let Rosie buy Aaron that gift.  I’m glad for what the little pen showed me about Aaron and his connection to Rosie. 
  
And I’m glad that now I know to keep my trash away from Rosie’s pen!
  

Remembering Willene

Gary and I had been dating for several months that autumn of 1978 when he invited me to join his family for their annual Thanksgiving gathering.  Everyone piled in to Jay and Teetle’s house in Winston-Salem, North Carolina……….dozens of them!  It seemed that there were people everywhere, in every nook and cranny of that house on Carter Circle.  I walked in to the talking and laughter, overwhelmed with the introductions and the people that I was meeting for the first time – people that I knew in my heart would someday be a part of my life.  It was a warm, inviting atmosphere because Gary’s family is some of the warmest, kindest people I have ever known.  Yet on that day I didn’t know anybody, really, except for Gary – who tried to stay close but somehow wasn’t close enough as I tried to remember names and to connect whom belonged to whom in the confusion of names and relations. 
The person that I was most nervous about meeting finally stood before me……….a rather tall woman, with those long Edmonds arms and with a rather inquisitive look in her eyes.  I’m sure she was as curious about me as I was about her.  We were introduced, and then I reached over and hugged her.  I realized instantly that this was a surprise to her, and I felt embarrassed as she rather stiffly returned the unexpected hug.  As the day went on, we had more time to casually talk and I’m sure to watch each other at a distance.  I don’t remember much more about that busy, full day of new people and so many names and faces to assimilate.  But I had finally met my future mother-in-law, Willene Crawford.  That was the beginning of building a relationship with this amazing woman.



Willene and her mother, Rachel
Willene and her dad, Edgar

Willene had endured a very rough childhood, full of hurts over the early, tragic loss of her father, Edgar Edmonds, and the subsequent remarriage of her mother to a man who turned out to be an abusive liar.  She had a hard life for many years, but when I met her she was married to Homer Crawford, and she was settled and happy.  After Gary and I were married, she became Mom to me.  I soon learned that she was a woman with a very giving nature, and to whom family was her world. 

Willene Edmonds
 

Our first little house was full of items that she gave us to help us get started…….from bedspreads to curtains to canned goods and pumpkins.  Yes, pumpkins!  I’ll never forget the fall weekend that she came to our little house in Winston-Salem from her home in Tennessee with a car full of pumpkins.  We scooped out pumpkins, cut up pumpkins, boiled pumpkins, mashed pumpkins, and froze the end product in dozens of freezer bags.  Gary and I enjoyed pumpkin anything and everything for months……….pumpkin muffins, pumpkin bread, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin cake………….and the memories of that weekend were woven in to every bite. 

I loved Willene’s cooking and once asked her how she came to be such a great southern cook.  Her answer was simple – “Practice, practice, practice!” she said in her usual rather brusque tone.  Yet with all these years of practice, I’ve never accomplished her simply delicious art of mountain, southern cooking.  The last time she came to visit us here in Kansas,  she made biscuits – a treat we always looked forward to with watering mouths.  Her biscuits were perfect!  Of course, she had no recipe……….so as she dumped her ingredients into the bowl, I would stop her and then I would measure each item and write it down.  Still, though I seldom make biscuits, the times I have made them never do justice to the flaky, delicious biscuits that she produced.  Maybe it was her touch more than anything………..and the fact that I’m not practicing the art of biscuit making enough!

Homer died when Gary and I had been married for five years, and I was pregnant with Aaron.  That was such a sad time, another blow in Willene’s life of disappointments.  She moved back to Bryson City, living in Mama Rachel’s old house with Sandra and Mama Rachel right beside her in Sandra’s new home.  It was a good arrangement.  She was able to come see us after Aaron and Andrea were both born.  We were living in Colorado Springs where Gary was stationed at Fort Carson.  We had a small house in town, with not a lot of room for two babies and three adults…………but it was so much fun to have her come.  I never worried about things being perfect when she was with us because Willene was so laid back.  A perfect house didn’t matter one bit to her.  Time with family was what was valuable to her, and the times that she was with us were so special.

She came to Colorado in January of 1987 to spend several months with me.  Gary had been assigned to training that previous October en route to our new duty station in Germany.  There I was, with 2 year old Aaron and 4 month old Andrea……….and a house for sale in the middle of a Colorado winter.  My parents came out for awhile to help, and then after Christmas Willene came to stay indefinitely.  What a blessing and a lifesaver she was to me!  It was so wonderful to have her companionship and her assistance during that long, snowy winter.  By this time we were very comfortable with each other.  We talked and talked; we shopped; we ate out when we could; we cooked a lot; and she and I loved on her grandchildren.  She dearly loved those babies and she enjoyed every minute with them.  She even tolerated my new mother ways of doing things, and never tried to undo any of my decisions.  I did smile, though, when I’d see her sneak Aaron a little sip of forbidden soda or a little bite of candy. 

We’d scurry around to clean the house when the realtor would call to tell us that he was headed over with a potential buyer.  Then we’d pack the kids in the car and head out to the mall or to Target to kill time until it was safe to go back to our house.  She’d watch the kids while I shoveled yet another deep snow off the driveway and sidewalk, or when I had a military event to attend.  And when our packers came in April of that year, she was right there keeping the kids occupied and helping in whatever way she could.  She rejoiced with us when our realtor called to tell us our house had sold on the night before we were leaving Colorado!  She adjusted along with us as our trip out was delayed for several hours while we rushed through a hurried house closing, and never minded one bit when Gary took me to buy a new dress with some of the money we received at our closing.  It was a sweet, happy, but yet exhausting time.  I can only imagine how tired she must have been, but she never complained. 

We drove two cars across country as soon as our business was done in Colorado, heading out late in the day.  Gary drove our little S-10 pickup with Aaron happily chattering or sleeping beside him.  I followed in our Ford Tempo, with Willene sitting in the back watching over Andrea in her car seat.  Willene helped so much as she took care of Andrea’s every need, and as she helped keep me awake as I drove.  We were in awe together of the enormous, full moon that was in the sky as we drove across Texas that night.  We spent the night in Fort Smith, Arkansas before making our way to Bryson City, North Carolina that next day…….worn out but so happy to be home again.  Gary and I had time there, and time in West Virginia before he left alone for Germany in May.  The kids and I stayed behind until August, splitting time between NC and WV.

Willene adored her grandchildren, and in 1990 was thrilled to meet Andrew for the first time when we came home from Germany for 6 months before returning for another three years.  She came to Germany to spend some time with us, too, and what fun we had traveling over the country and showing her sights she never dreamed she would see.  She was able to come to each place that we lived – Alabama, Colorado, Germany, Kansas, and Arizona.  She loved our visits to Bryson City.  Days there were full of family, love, and many good times. 

Willene and family with Mama Rachel
 
Willene taught me how to do lots of crafts.  She loved to make things and she was very gifted in that area.  Before leaving for Germany, she taught me how to make rag baskets.  After we were settled in Germany, she would send boxes of fabric rolls that she got at the outlet where she worked.  I made and sold those baskets in craft stores there in Germany, as well as rugs and other crafts………….all because she cared enough to take the time and make the effort to see that I had what I needed.  She loved sending us all sorts of things from the outlet where she worked………bedding, towels, blankets, and so much more.  And there were boxes for the kids that would come, full of clothes or toys or goodies.  She was an awesome Granny, even though she was far away.

 
As her health declined and she was on dialysis, she never let it get her down.  She forged ahead with her life, even coming to visit us here in Wichita several times, dialysis or not.  She would continue her treatments here.  One day in February of 2007, she drove herself to her dialysis treatment, but she became sick there and had to be transported to the hospital in Asheville.  She had surgery and then she continued to decline.  Gary and I went to see her several times, and in April of that year we brought her for a day visit to Sandra’s for the last time.  Gary and I brought Andrea and Andrew to see her that summer as her condition continued to grow worse.  We received the call to come home in October of that year.  Gary and I drove all night to get there, going straight to the hospital in Asheville. 

I was shocked at the sight of her laying there in that hospital bed, unconscious and struggling to breathe.  This strong, independent woman was finally nearing the end.  She had accepted Christ and was ready to go, but none of us were ready to let her go.  We stayed at the hospital all day, and before leaving that night I leaned down close to her ear.  I told her that I loved her, and I told her that she was the most wonderful mother-in-law that a girl could ever ask for.  I hope she heard me………..I hope she knew my heart.  For though we always said “I love you” after every phone call or visit, I wanted her to know that she truly was an amazing woman and a precious part of my life. 

She passed away that next morning.  It’s been five years, and she is missed as much now as ever.  We laugh and smile when we talk about her, and the kids have many special memories of times with Granny.  I’m so thankful for that!  “Practice, practice, practice,” she told me.  But you can’t practice to be what she was.  She was the real deal, honest and straight-forward, blunt to a fault……….and with a heart as big as all outdoors. 

We miss you, Willene.  We miss you, Granny.  I miss you, Mom.