67 years ago today Henry John Blann and Eva Isabel Robbins were united in marriage. That began an adventure together that would take them to Africa and back three times, the birth of four children and subsequently 17 grandchildren and 23 great grandchildren. They lived in Indiana where their four children grew to adulthood and then lived in Pennsylvania, New York, Pennsylvania again and Maryland. Eight years ago, in August of 2001, they moved to Florida to be near me, their daughter, who had offered many times for them to make this change so that I would be able to care for them as they aged into role changing. That is, when the parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent.
Theirs was a wonderful marriage of giving to one another, protecting and honoring each other. My mother prayed for years that God would take Dad home first. She felt that he so depended on her that if she were to go first that he wouldn’t be able to make it without her. God answered her prayer and took Dad home to heaven 4 months ago. She had no idea of the grief and loneliness that she would face as a result of that answered prayer. I have realized more than ever in these past four months how much my Dad actually protected and cared for her. His encouragement and support at times when her perfectionist nature would threaten to consume her were what she needed to balance things in her mind. As his dementia increased, that became more my role in her life.
She has just recently begun to talk about him and repeat memories that she has. These are usually triggered by sights she recognizes as we ride in the car. She will begin to cry and then apologize. This is the point when I remind her that it is normal and healthy to cry. Her dementia has increased greatly since Dad’s passing and I am sure that this is partially as a result of grief. How could one not greatly grieve the loss of someone that you have spent your whole life with – the other side of yourself?
Dementia has robbed me (and all those who have loved my parents) of the bright, wise and sharp-witted minds of these two special people. I am thankful beyond measure for the years that I did have with them and the benefits that I have reaped because of that blessing on my life. While my mother is more like a little girl at most times, her sweetness and her loving and caring nature continues to show through in many ways. Those who care for her daily have obviously come to love her. Many have made comments to me regarding her sweet nature. She continues to minister to others through her Christ-likeness. I asked her the other day about something that a nurse told me she had done (a kind gesture for another resident) she didn’t remember at all about doing it. I guess that it just comes naturally at this point! ☺ Oh, to be so naturally kind and compassionate that when I no longer have a clear mind that I would respond in kindness without thinking as Mom does.
I am blessed, as are my siblings, to have been loved, nurtured, disciplined, encouraged, rebuked, loved and encouraged (duplication not by accident) by these two imperfect people who strove for Godly perfection throughout their lives.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
METAMORPHOSIS
Metamorphosis – a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.
This is a story that has been bubbling in my mind and heart for over three months now. It has been four months since my beloved “Daddy” had a “change of form”, so to speak. A couple of days after he passed away, my sister, her husband and I were standing in my kitchen. Rosie glanced out the glass door of the kitchen and saw a large, beautiful butterfly on the screen of the porch and pointed it out to me. I glanced at it and under my breath, without thinking, whispered, “hi Daddy”. I told no one of my reaction for a few days fearing they might think that I had flipped my lid or was seriously screwed up in my theology.
A few days later I shared this experience with my sister who probably tried very hard not to raise her eyebrows at me. It puzzled me as to why I reacted this way and I wondered as to what possible meaning it could have…this spontaneous reaction of talking to the butterfly and addressing it as “Daddy”.
One thing that helped me feel a little less spooked by my reaction was one of the grief booklets that I read. The following paragraph spoke to me and helped me understand that my reaction was quite normal.
“Many who grieve report unexplainable experiences that suggest a feeling of connectedness with a loved one who has died. Some understand these to be normal perceptions that occur for a time following a death, while others believe them to be magical or spiritual occurrences.”
When I read that, I felt a little better about what had happened and realized that this was not an unusual occurrence and I wasn’t losing my mind but still I wondered about the significance of it or if there was even any significance. A few weeks later I was driving with my daughter and at a stoplight I noticed that the car in front of us had a butterfly on the license plate. As we drew closer I discovered that it was a Florida specialty plate for Hospice. I was stunned. I had no idea at this point that the butterfly is used as a symbol by many hospice societies world-wide. I have no idea if the hospice facility where Dad was at the end uses the butterfly or not. It was not something that I noticed at the time we were there.
The loss of my father after years of caring for him and for my mother has had a profound impact on me. I have struggled at times with guilt…well, lots of times. I have second guessed myself and the decisions we made and continue to make on behalf of Mom. The roles are definitely reversed…I have become my mother’s Mom. She has even introduced me at times as her mother. The last time she realized her mistake and corrected herself. Getting off track here – back to the butterflies!
The whole butterfly thing intrigued me. At every turn I kept seeing butterflies. I even ordered a new pair of shoes on line and they came with a butterfly picture. What was I supposed to be learning from all of this? I started spending hours researching.
Like the butterfly, hospice is a symbol of transformation. They help people make the most important transformation in life, and help them find hope even in the process of dying. That was definitely true for our family. Hospice helped us in the education of what was happening and what to expect to helping make Dad’s last days as comfortable as possible.
Butterflies have been a part of many legends. They are symbolic and carry significant meaning in many cultures. In many Native American Tribes butterflies are a symbol of rebirth, regeneration, happiness, and joy.
Butterflies have a multi-stage life cycle; beginning with a larvae stage and ending with the spectacular metamorphose into a colorful winged adult form. Some people think of this cycle as similar to the human life cycle. The concept is that we are born into this world and leave this world, metamorphosing into a new and beautiful spiritual world, free of pain and suffering. I have the assurance that my Dad, whose heart belonged fully to his Savior and Lord, Jesus, did, in fact, metamorphose in to a new life and a new body.
Another grief booklet reads, “Search your own memory for an image or object that was special to your loved one, or that helps you bring your loved one to mind……find a way to hold onto that special “icon,” and let it bring you comfort and joy.” For me, it is the butterfly. As I look back to the day that I saw the butterfly on the screen, my conclusion is that God knew how much I had just gone through and what I was facing in the days ahead. It was such a sweet reminder that Dad is safely with Jesus and that my Heavenly Father is watching over me, guiding me and loving me as I continue on in my responsibilities of caring for my Dad's beloved wife that he struggled with leaving behind.
Psalm 30:11,12
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, that my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever. (NASV)
Praise God, my Dad’s mourning in the loss of his mind and body has now turned into dancing. He is in the presence of Jesus and he is singing and dancing in his new body and with his new mind.
In all my researching on this subject, I discovered that a very common practice with Hospice facilities is to have a butterfly release as fund-raisers and as memorials for loved ones who have passed on. We are having a family memorial for Dad over the Thanksgiving holiday. There will be almost 50 immediate family members present to celebrate Dad’s life. I’d love to do a butterfly release at that time. I think that it would be a beautiful and fun experience.
This is a story that has been bubbling in my mind and heart for over three months now. It has been four months since my beloved “Daddy” had a “change of form”, so to speak. A couple of days after he passed away, my sister, her husband and I were standing in my kitchen. Rosie glanced out the glass door of the kitchen and saw a large, beautiful butterfly on the screen of the porch and pointed it out to me. I glanced at it and under my breath, without thinking, whispered, “hi Daddy”. I told no one of my reaction for a few days fearing they might think that I had flipped my lid or was seriously screwed up in my theology.
A few days later I shared this experience with my sister who probably tried very hard not to raise her eyebrows at me. It puzzled me as to why I reacted this way and I wondered as to what possible meaning it could have…this spontaneous reaction of talking to the butterfly and addressing it as “Daddy”.
One thing that helped me feel a little less spooked by my reaction was one of the grief booklets that I read. The following paragraph spoke to me and helped me understand that my reaction was quite normal.
“Many who grieve report unexplainable experiences that suggest a feeling of connectedness with a loved one who has died. Some understand these to be normal perceptions that occur for a time following a death, while others believe them to be magical or spiritual occurrences.”
When I read that, I felt a little better about what had happened and realized that this was not an unusual occurrence and I wasn’t losing my mind but still I wondered about the significance of it or if there was even any significance. A few weeks later I was driving with my daughter and at a stoplight I noticed that the car in front of us had a butterfly on the license plate. As we drew closer I discovered that it was a Florida specialty plate for Hospice. I was stunned. I had no idea at this point that the butterfly is used as a symbol by many hospice societies world-wide. I have no idea if the hospice facility where Dad was at the end uses the butterfly or not. It was not something that I noticed at the time we were there.
The loss of my father after years of caring for him and for my mother has had a profound impact on me. I have struggled at times with guilt…well, lots of times. I have second guessed myself and the decisions we made and continue to make on behalf of Mom. The roles are definitely reversed…I have become my mother’s Mom. She has even introduced me at times as her mother. The last time she realized her mistake and corrected herself. Getting off track here – back to the butterflies!
The whole butterfly thing intrigued me. At every turn I kept seeing butterflies. I even ordered a new pair of shoes on line and they came with a butterfly picture. What was I supposed to be learning from all of this? I started spending hours researching.
Like the butterfly, hospice is a symbol of transformation. They help people make the most important transformation in life, and help them find hope even in the process of dying. That was definitely true for our family. Hospice helped us in the education of what was happening and what to expect to helping make Dad’s last days as comfortable as possible.
Butterflies have been a part of many legends. They are symbolic and carry significant meaning in many cultures. In many Native American Tribes butterflies are a symbol of rebirth, regeneration, happiness, and joy.
Butterflies have a multi-stage life cycle; beginning with a larvae stage and ending with the spectacular metamorphose into a colorful winged adult form. Some people think of this cycle as similar to the human life cycle. The concept is that we are born into this world and leave this world, metamorphosing into a new and beautiful spiritual world, free of pain and suffering. I have the assurance that my Dad, whose heart belonged fully to his Savior and Lord, Jesus, did, in fact, metamorphose in to a new life and a new body.
Another grief booklet reads, “Search your own memory for an image or object that was special to your loved one, or that helps you bring your loved one to mind……find a way to hold onto that special “icon,” and let it bring you comfort and joy.” For me, it is the butterfly. As I look back to the day that I saw the butterfly on the screen, my conclusion is that God knew how much I had just gone through and what I was facing in the days ahead. It was such a sweet reminder that Dad is safely with Jesus and that my Heavenly Father is watching over me, guiding me and loving me as I continue on in my responsibilities of caring for my Dad's beloved wife that he struggled with leaving behind.
Psalm 30:11,12
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, that my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever. (NASV)
Praise God, my Dad’s mourning in the loss of his mind and body has now turned into dancing. He is in the presence of Jesus and he is singing and dancing in his new body and with his new mind.
In all my researching on this subject, I discovered that a very common practice with Hospice facilities is to have a butterfly release as fund-raisers and as memorials for loved ones who have passed on. We are having a family memorial for Dad over the Thanksgiving holiday. There will be almost 50 immediate family members present to celebrate Dad’s life. I’d love to do a butterfly release at that time. I think that it would be a beautiful and fun experience.
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