The Joy of Rambling

…on this September morning, with the sudden lack of humidity in the air and the familiar scent of foliage waiting to be released from branches. I cherish the time I’m given to reflect. I love the fall. It is the end of pool cleaning and grass cutting. It is relief. It also brings darkness.

Jim hates the cold and the dark. He has already begun to say, “is it ever warm here?” His feet have recently become chronically cold. He describes his toes as icy and painful. His doctor says it’s most likely Raynaud’s. I wonder if the dementia is playing with his ability to sense warmth in his body. Last night he sat on the edge of the bed and cried. He doesn’t want to do this anymore. I don’t blame him. I can only rub his back and try to comfort him.

Back when all this started I would become angry at his self-pity. I would tell him he could choose his attitude. Sometimes it brought him out of his sorrows, but only for a short bit. His melancholy disposition is not suited for a long, painful trudge toward death. And yet, that is what he is asked to endure.

I am a Christian. I believe in the sanctity of life. Still, it is easy to make a case for euthanasia when I watch Jim suffer. This, however, is not my call.

He will be awake soon and he’ll want to know what we’re doing today. His favorite activity is having people over to socialize. He can no longer engage in meaningful conversation, but he chimes in occasionally with one of his silly jokes. This is enough for him.

My only goal today is to get him in the shower. It’s been a few days and it is most definitely time. I love the satisfaction that comes after I’ve gotten him cleaned and dressed. It’s similar to when the kids were little and I got them in the bath at night before bed. There was nothing better than soaping up those tiny bodies, rinsing, drying and warming them, and finally clothing them in freshly laundered onesies. I can still smell the clean. That’s how I feel after showering Jim. No Onesie though 🙂

As I sit this morning, cherishing the cool air and soft breeze, I am struck by the contrast between my life and those who came before me. Lately I’ve been reading a lot about pioneering women in history, and marveling at their strength and determination. I’m also in a study on the book of Ruth who was a pioneer in her own right. What kind of a woman leaves everything familiar to her, including her belief system, informed only by her mother-in-law’s stories of the land she’s about to encounter? A strong, persevering, fiercely loyal woman. That is what I want to be. I want to see my journey through to its end. I want to reach the other side, whether it be on this earth or beyond, knowing I stayed the course and did what I was called to do. I want to learn to lean on God for strength and guidance. I want to end a better person than when I began. 

These mornings of reflection and prayer, they are my manna. My daily bread. They are where I take courage from God’s Word, listen for His voice and plan my next steps. They are where I’m filled again, sometimes to overflowing, so I can walk bravely into whatever circumstance I’ll encounter. They are my time to renew, refresh and put on a clean Onesie.