Choosing My Nursing Home

This is a follow-up to my last post entitled “Don’t blink” I started my blog to raise autism awareness and encourage people to interact with people who have special needs. So the way that post was received took me by surprise. I received a lot more feedback than usual. Many people told me it was their favorite post to date. I decided I’d take another stab at blogging about parenting, in general. Thanks again to those who have encouraged me.   

Last week I accompanied my dad to a pre-op meeting. He is going to have some knee surgery. He has a terrible cold and his knee is bothering him so I convinced him to sit on a bench while I went to retrieve the car, saving him a few steps. He was reluctant to let me, afraid to inconvenience me, but I was able to persuade him to allow me to save him the extra exercise, which he did not need.

As I walked away, I wondered how many times my dad had gone out into the cold to do something for me, or how many hundreds and thousands of steps he had saved me over my lifetime. I wondered how many kind deeds he had done for me that I could remember and how many that I will never even know about. Why did I offer to save him those steps? Because I love him. If you have good parents you will understand. We love our parents because they taught us what love is, by loving us first. If asked to describe the devotion involved in a child/parent relationship, I’m certain I would never be able to put the depth of love and commitment into words. 

My mom and dad are in their eighties and have been parenting me for almost fifty years. That’s a long time of putting someone else’s needs first, counseling them, encouraging them, and praying for them. My dad can’t do as much as he used to be able to do. He used to be able to work on hydraulic elevators, and fix almost anything that was broken. He cannot do those things anymore. I’ve seen him struggle to finish much more simple tasks lately. My dad, my hero, a man of steel, sometimes needs me to do things for him now. So, I will be there for him, the way he was there for me. I will let him sit on a bench while I go and get the car. I will help him take care of my mom. I will do many of the things for him that he once did for me. I will put his needs before mine. 

Putting others’ needs first: isn’t that what it’s all about? The golden rule?  ...whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets (Matthew 7:12). It was Jesus who spoke those words. If everyone lived by the golden rule, there’d be no need for any other rule. My mom and dad taught me that rule. If we were to all teach our children that one thing, we could change the world in one generation. Think about it. 

I hope my husband and I have instilled the Golden Rule well in our own children for many reasons, one being: they will pick our nursing home. (haha)  We’ve had a sort of joke around our house for the past few years with our oldest two sons. When we aggravate them, they sometimes say, “Be careful, I get to pick your nursing home.” It seems a long way off, getting old enough for a nursing home. But in reality, time flies. Our lives are compared to vapors in James 4:14.  As I said in the last post, “Don’t blink.”

As my parents become elderly and I’m living my middle-aged years, my oldest children have become young adults. Yesterday morning our oldest son called home to ask his dad for some advice about a car that wouldn’t start. I wondered how many of those phone calls I have made: “Mom, what’s that recipe for…..?” and “Dad, come quick! There’s a raccoon in my chicken house!” As I listened to my husband’s side of the phone conversation, I could hear how willing and happy he was to help our son, as best he could, over the phone. It’s like coming full-circle for me. My husband and my dad are both very wise men. I’m switching gears here and no longer talking about their ability to help with engine repairs or unwanted varmints. Although their knowledge of mechanics and their shotguns have come in handy over the years, their Bible knowledge and wisdom is what really matters. Our oldest called home a few months ago to ask his dad’s political opinion on an issue. Shawn didn’t give him a short answer, but helped him reason it out himself. After they talked, my son wrote this in a blog post: “My dad is the smartest man I know. He’s not a doctor, lawyer, scientist or professor. Ironically, he didn’t even finish college. I’m talking real-world-experience-smart. He’s always pushed me to make hard decisions and trained me to learn from my own mistakes—mistakes, by the way, that he encouraged me to make on my own. This life is a learning experience, and my dad’s my favorite teacher.”  

That blog post, written by my son, touched me and made me realize that our son sees his own father the way I see mine. I wish everyone had the kind of dad I have. I wish everyone had the kind of dad my children have.

My wonderful parents

My folks will hopefully be with me a few more years, but years go so quickly for me lately. Is getting old scary? If I live to be their age will the reality of my life ending be terrifying? My parents seem tired but they don’t seem terrified. Their influence will live on in the lives of their children and grandchildren. They have a lot of things to be proud of. The apostle Paul wasn’t afraid of death. He said “to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Why wasn’t Paul afraid of death? Because he knew what waited for him after death. The apostle John tells us that we can KNOW we are saved (1 John 5). If I am sure I will spend an eternity in Heaven then what’s to be afraid of? 

time flies and books from heaven

We are working hard on figurative language. The phrase we are actively targeting right now is “time flies” and I think we have mastered this one. I have been saying it in appropriate situations for days now and then explaining what I mean. Tate used it himself in a sentence tonight when he told me he had played on the i-pad during recess today and “time flew” then he went on to explain that he meant time seemed to go by fast for him when he was playing on the i-pad. I love it! He is catching on to some new figurative language. We are having fun with it. He both generalized the phrase and changed the tense from “flies” to “flew.” VERY COOL!

Tate told me he had not been able to use the i-pad at school today at the time he normally does. He said that his schedule today was changed around and it would be different again tomorrow. Tate loves routine but needs to learn to be flexible so changes in his schedule are good therapy. I asked him if the changes bothered him and he said “no worries.” He has been saying “no worries” a lot lately. I think he got it from his wonderful RR teacher. I have heard her say it. It reminds me of another phrase he often uses: “No big deal.” His speech teacher from Kindergarten taught him to say that when was close to a melt down over something small. I remember being skeptical it would work but it did help him. When he says “No big deal” or “No worries” it is similar to one of us taking a deep breath or counting to ten. Sometimes, he says it and still breaks down because he cannot always control his anxieties. Self-monitoring and self control are emerging with maturity; although a few years later than his peers. 

Tate doesn’t usually share much about his day so I am very thankful for a note that comes home with him this year. It helps me to start conversations with him in the evenings about things that went on at school. However, this evening I have not needed the note to prompt anything. Tate was a regular chatter box tonight. Apparently, his para had given him some crunchy peanut butter and crackers today. Tate believes his para hung the moon (OH… I should definitely introduce that phrase to Tate soon!) and his para has been very successful at getting Tate to try some new foods. I guess crunchy peanut butter will not be going on my grocery list though. Tate said “You KNOW I only eat SMOOOOOOTH peanut butter.” Then he went on to say the only crunchy things he likes are cereal, toast and waffles.  There are a lot of sensory issues that often accompany autism. A limited diet is also often a problem for those with autism.

In Bible class this evening Tate was much more engaged than usual. He had a random question toward the end of class: “So, when is God’s birthday, anyway?” I answered, “God doesn’t have a birthday.” He continued, “Why is that?” I responded with “God does not have a mom and He wasn’t born.” Tate said “Was He created?” Why questions were not asked for years because Tate has autism. He has to start with this one? Haha. He has actually been asking why questions for a while now but they are not frequent, nor are theological questions so the whole evening was amazing. The funniest thing Tate said tonight was “Hey, do you want to read one of those books from heaven?” He meant a Bible story book.  I have a shelf full in our classroom at the church building and since they are at the church building then Tate put two and two together. They are books from heaven. 

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