It Takes A Village - Aging Parents -

We all have heard, over and over again, about the importance of a community in rearing a child. I'd like to extend that thought to rearing aging parents. 

Over the past 6 years (and 12 before that), I have been a member of the village caring for aging parents. Scott and I married 17 years ago. He had moved into his parents' home 2 years prior to care for his aging parents. I moved in with my folks shortly after my divorce 17 years ago. Scott and I purchased the home next to my parents, across from his parents, to help care for our aging parents, 15 years ago. So yes, I can write a book on this. 

The past 10 years have been the years of the most need for our parents - 

• Scott's mother's physical and mental health, and then her death. Scott's father's ever-increasing mental health decline, and his death. And then the tumultuous work in dealing with their estate - everything from art to life insurance to dejunking a home and selling it. As well as the turmoil of finding a happy medium with Scott's siblings as they did everything not-together and facing the repercussions of that. Dismal at best - the village never learned how to be neighbors. 

• And then as quick as Scott's parents passed and the estate somewhat settled, my parents took their turn. Dad's aging and his physical health decline and the toll his demands took on my mother and Scott and I. His death, and then Mom's mental health decline. And moving Mom to my sister's, all the work that has taken. And now, dejunking and distributing (or storing) 45 years of living and gathering in a home, and getting it ready to share with a niece, continuing to keep it in the family, as well as trying to help Mom understand and re-understand all of this. Thankfully, the village has been extremely neighborly, even in our differences, we have found center. 

I often feel as if Scott and I have been the Primary Caregivers for most of these years, and I have to remind myself this has been a choice, yet we've had to be diplomatic in doing so, and often we've had to remove ourselves from "ownership," as we've listened to siblings tell us what to do, or what we should be doing differently. It's hard to understand what caregiving of someone aging encompasses, until you've been there. Aging isn't pretty, and the memories we have of our aging parents doesn't always compute into what's present. 

And so here we are, moving to a different phase of our village - the Walker home is nearly ready to be occupied by my niece and her family, Mom is nearly settled in her space at my sister's, and the siblings who've been so involved in making this come to fruition are nearly exhausted. 

Our roles are going to change again - child, to adult child, to adult, to caregiver . . . 

I'm sure I'll write more as I have energy; right now I'm looking forward to a long weekend; doing my best to not use my time-off (for the first time since August) to work on sorting/sentimentalizing/saving/clearing and cleaning the family home (interestingly, not the home I grew up in). I have a project ready and several movies queued, so I won't be pulled eastward to do just a little more. 

And - this is one of the hardest things I've ever done. Emotionally and physically exhausting. I have created companies, been an advocate for the arts communities, I have been a point person for businesses, I have managed companies, I have created courses, I am the oldest child, I am a step-parent, a parent, and being a daughter of an aging parent and all that encompasses is tough. I don't think I'll be running for mayor any time soon. 

The Walker Village: 

    7 children - 4 near, 3 from afar

    Spouses - 4 who have been phenomenal front-line and behind-the-lines

    Primarily 3 grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren

    1 grand-daughter and her family who will be moving into the home

    1 sister

    

    

Feeling Lonely on Sunday Mornings -

 I have been reading Rachel Held Evans' "Searching for Sunday Morning: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church."  I've been reading this on Sunday's, a way to get some inspiration as I sit at home rather than congregating, mostly because of CoVid, somely because I don't want to go to my Church, and secretly, I'm relieved. 

I can only read a few pages at a time, then I have to think about her words for a few minutes to a week, before picking up and moving forward. 

There are a few pieces that do this to me: Terryl Givens' "The Mormon God Who Weeps," and Michael Singer's "The Untethered Soul." Writings that hit deep, leave an impact, and make me think, for days, weeks, months, after reading. 

In Mormonism, congregations are based on geography, not on choice. You go to church with your neighbors (or are assigned), which, hopefully, creates that sense of community, based on location. Now, that's pretty much next-door, neighborhood in Utah, yet in other areas, that could be those in the same town, not necessarily neighbors. And in building community, the Church is saying, "There is always someone you can reach out to help, to serve, to tend and befriend." This also means there is always someone watching you - "keeping their eyes" on you - supposedly. 

And for the most part, this works. 

Yet as Evans wrote about leaving one "church" and searching for another "congregation," one which met her needs, I am angered and frustrated as I read, because Evans could search, she had options. And I don't feel similar.  I hunger for a similar opportunity - to search within my faith for a congregation where I can be/have friends, be a neighbor, share and laugh with like-minded people. In my Church we don't follow a Pastor, we stay and wait for the Bishop to change, basically every 5 years. Yet 5 years is a long time to be unfulfilled, feeling like an outsider, not understanding the leader's direction, purpose, intent - even upon asking. 

Evans mentions searching for a congregation that fed her; where she could be more liberal, be more grounded, have deep conversations and search scriptures and ask questions, and feel safe and feel challenged. Oh my, that would be nice.

A friend, a youth pastor, has been asked to move to an area and start a church, within Evans faith beliefs, however, with a more liberal approach with a more accepting of differences philosophy.  And he asks Evans and her husband if they'd like to go with him. 

And she is beyond ecstatic, seeing this as an answer to her prayers. 

And here I sit, where changing congregations actually means moving from my home. And while the new Bishop is great, the congregation's mentality hasn't changed, and mine has never fit - I have no peers, I have maybe 3 friends, and Scott and I don't find a home in the Church, just as much our fault as anyone's. If people, not buildings, make a Church, where is mine? Who is mine? 

So on Sunday mornings, as I wait for the online Sacrament meeting to begin, trying to be diligent in "attending," thinking this is a time to be a part of the virtual community, I am reminded of the depths of my loneliness and the despair I feel at my lack of options. 

Not happy

Not sad

Just lonely

On Sunday mornings. 

Speed of the Sound of Loneliness -

Feeling rather helpless today, a little frightened, quite cynical, and just a little isolated. This song, in all its beauty, has been on repeat in my mind. 

Written by John Prine, these two versions are my favorites. 

You come home late and you come home early
You come on big when you're feeling small
You come home straight and you come home curly
Sometimes you don't come home at all

So what in the world's come over you?
And what in heaven's name have you done?
You've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
You're out there running just to be on the run

Well I got a heart that burns with a fever
And I got a worried and a jealous mind
How can a love that'll last forever
Get left so far behind

What in the world's come over you?
And what in heaven's name have you done?
You've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
You're out there running just to be on the run

It's a mighty mean and a dreadful sorrow
It's crossed the evil line today
Well, how can you ask about tomorrow
We ain't got one word to say

So what in the world's come over you?
And what in heaven's name have you done?
You've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
You're out there running just to be on the run

You're out there running just to be on the run
You're out there running just to be on the run

You are what you are, and You ain't what you ain't -

Several weeks ago, my sweet baby girl (always will be), after spending a few days with her family and her brother's family at their dad's and other mother's second home in warmer southern Utah, said, 

"Why don't you retire and do what Dad and K are doing? You and Pops deserve to rest, quilt, bike, hike." 

And a knife went through my heart. Although, I've worked through this all, talked with daughter, know it wasn't meant to hurt, it has me thinking. 

Scott and I will never be wealthy - as in second homes, pools, early retirement for me. And I have absolutely no worries about this. Yet I felt like I needed to justify, mostly to myself, that the life Scott and I have is the life I/we want. 

I'm full-filled. Serving others gives me immense joy. I'm not really one to wander; I need a purpose, and this career, this one that I've been working toward most of my adult life, is exactly what I want. 

As well, financially - being able to take care of my family, Scott and me, is what I want. I like seeing my retirement grow; I like watching MY paycheck being deposited; I like being able to have insurance and co-pays and HSA's. I like having paid vacations, even though I have to parse them out and factor in any future vacations. 

My life may look limited - I can't drop and run to tend grandkids - oh wait, they're in school; I can't run to lunch with friends - but I can schedule that; I can't be super-spontaneous, yet all my life I've enjoyed having a schedule, which then allows me the comfort of knowing when I am free to go and do and be whatever whenever. 

So I live in a little house, without room for extended family dinners. Well, that thought gives me tons of anxiety anyway! And there are always work-arounds, including summer swim parties, family dinners at their homes, and one-on-one dinners - which is really what I prefer. 

I don't go to quilting workshops, take painting classes, go on girls' trips. Not my thing anyway. Yet if you want a deep conversation, a walking friend, someone to cook meals to freeze, or a shoulder to cry on - I'm yours. 

I will rest, quilt, bike, hike, if and when the need/desire arises. I may be clunky, awkward, introverted, plain Jane, simple. This is my life. I am what I am, and I ain't what I ain't. 

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas -

I love these 2020 Christmas cards. And for the first time in several years, I'm not sending anything out. I really don't have anything to say, and I have no sweet photos of this year's travels (well, I do, Hawaii with Jenna and kids was amazing, and difficult, and expensive, and memorable - that was 1 week pre-CoVid, which seems like a lifetime ago) - although Driggs, ID and the Grand Tetons are always stunning, Mt. Rushmore was nice, and Durango, CO, was beautiful, while Zion was too hot and too busy to even attempt. 

However, if I had sent out a card it would say, 

We made it - from head to toe (truly)! And while we met our out-of-pocket deductible way back in July and our HSA is empty, and we're facing a few more procedures in January, our health is good, our marriage is great, and our home is beautiful. We have healthy children and grandchildren; CoVid has affected us all in too many ways to count, yet our bounce-forward buttons still work. 

We've lost loved ones. We've been frustrated with the medical and political world, yet we've chosen to put what we can change as our priority, and what we can't change, well, we're learning to let it go. 

We missed our international trip to Portugal this spring, but we've put a few miles on our cars getting to know the world that's within a day's drive. We're planning next year's trip, and although it is state-side, we're grateful for extra vacation days, extra miles, and the opportunity to see what we've neglected to see, and Scott's doing a great job of gathering family history information to make this trip every bit as adventurous as an international one. 

We've enjoyed CoVid drive-bys to our children's homes - dropping off goodies that have some sort of  laughable CoVid message. We were able to be with a grand-daughter who was married and have an honored role in her ceremony.

We had the pleasure of hosting Ihor, from the Ukraine, stuck here in Utah for work because of CoVid, for several months, and this fall we've had Zach, from So Dakota, here attending BYU (but not wanting to socialize because of the virus); he'll be coming back in January. So even when we can't venture too far from home, the world has come to our doorstep, thank you Airbnb and the friendships we've made because of being hosts (although we're ending our tenure with them, there's always a spare bedroom - well, will be in May). 

We've learned to negotiate lawnmower noise with Webex home-office meetings, and I've gained a deeper appreciation for not only my work-space, but for the caregivers who put their lives on the line every single day. I'm grateful to have been able to be a small support to them, as well as for Scott's support of me. 

My 2020 motto, Be The Change, has hung on our front porch as our public statement, although I've learned that being this change comes from within and then outward to my home, my world. 

We've laughed, we've loved, we've argued, we've yelled, we've painted and played, and restored a 1962 Grand Prix - the life we have far surpasses our dreams - guess this year has been just fine after-all!  

Merry Christmas to all - Ronda & Scott

Diamonds and Stones -

On Monday I had a feeling to check in on a patient I hadn't talked with in a couple of months. I went to her chart to get her phone number. A big red box, marked "deceased" popped up before I could even get to her number. She passed away in September, and I just learned. 

As well, a patient in the hospital, who has been at death's doorstep for a week, was finally allowed, by his family, to pass. 

Tuesday I received a call from a hospital asking for some support for caregivers as they had a traumatic death in their emergency department the previous evening. And they needed to vent. 

Last night at 3:40am, I made the mistake of checking my phone. My sister had sent me a text earlier in the night about a friend dying. The friend was my patient. 

When I woke for real, I had a group text from a client's brother stating that his sister's tumor was cancerous, yet she was healing well from her surgery. 

Just a few minutes ago I received notification that another patient had passed away, yesterday morning. 

And that's just a few of the deaths and imminent deaths I've been a part of this week. 

Some days are diamonds, some are stones. 

What a week, what a damn f'ing week. 

The Need for Chaplains -

 I love my job/career/life-choice as a chaplain. I cannot imagine doing anything else. I love serving my patients, their families, and the caregivers who are dedicated and committed to giving the best care they can to those they likewise serve. 

It's been a busy several months - caregivers were on adrenalin highs for several months, as was the world, with a multitude of initiatives and ways of showing support. And yet as caregivers tire, so does the public, and now we're dragging, exhausted, without evening applauses and caregiver parades, no healthcare provider discounts (and I tell you, they made a differences), and we still go home to families who are likewise burnt-out and dragging. I have cried more than once in the past month - who chaplains the chaplains? 

I spend as much time with caregivers as I do patients and their families. This is a fundamental part of my job. In fact, not only do I serve at my facility, I also am doing my best to support caregivers system-wide, particularly at the site where many of our toughest CoVid cases go. 

Enough said, and yet there are still institutions (people) who think chaplains are not necessary, that in this day when religion is waning, there is no need for religious rituals and conversations. However, when someone is in a health crisis, they are likewise in a spiritual crisis (not religion, although people rely on the beliefs, or non, of their religious and spiritual perspectives). "Oh God" can be a curse or a prayer, and I've seen this over and over again, and a listening ear, a quiet moment, a nod, permission to share, is so very very necessary.

This article, from one of the organizations I have my certification through shares a perspective examining the words stating there is no need, yet likewise validates the need, for healthcare chaplains, now more than ever. 

Count chaplains in, not out! Now more than ever, chaplains are needed on healthcare teams    _____   "Our role is to care for anyone -- patient, family member or professional and clinical colleague -- who is suffering, feeling overwhelmed, hopeless, and alone." -- Eric J. Hall _____ As the leader of a national chaplaincy organization, I am baffled by the opinion that chaplains are becoming irrelevant. This statement during this pandemic when chaplains have become more necessary than ever is simply a cover to remove chaplains from employment.   A discussion I had with an administrator indicated that because people are not going to "church" there is a diminished need for chaplains. It's true that many churches across the country were growing empty even before COVID-19 caused them to close their doors. But the flight from organized religion does not mean people are throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Many faith communities doing online worship and tracking their viewers are seeing significant number of "attendees" who they can tell are not members of their community. Thus, lots of people who have not participated in worship before now are seeking it out. We saw the same phenomenon post 9/11. Large numbers of people turned to faith and religious practice in the time of uncertainty to find connectedness and meaning. So where do these people find that connection and community today? Chaplains fill that role for many.   As chaplains working in emergency, trauma and other healthcare settings across the country can attest in this time of COVID, people in existential crisis long to make sense of what's happening to them and their loved ones whether they have God or a religious tradition to guide them or not.   I want to address the misconception that chaplaincy is only a valid ministry in the context of faith, and that as organized religion declines in importance, chaplains become less relevant to healthcare systems and therefore a resource that can be eliminated from the budget. This is not the time to count chaplains out. Now more than ever, leaders in healthcare should count them in!   If they have learned anything from the experience of our hospital systems overburdened by suffering and death, health care leaders must surely see the value of treatment protocols such as palliative care and hospice when curative care is deemed futile. Dr. Diane Meier, director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care, makes this point when she says, "Our first and foremost job is to identify and relieve sources of suffering. And particularly in the COVID-19 environment, where all available treatments are experimental and variably accessible, our first obligation is to provide psychological, existential, and spiritual support to people who are understandably terrified."   I direct the Healthcare Chaplaincy Network. For us, professional chaplaincy is about "caring for the human spirit." Our chaplains work alongside first responders and EMTs, integrated in hospice and palliative care teams, and collaborating with doctors, nurses and other medical professionals in ICUs across the country. Our role is to care for anyone -- patient, family member or professional and clinical colleague -- who is suffering, feeling overwhelmed, hopeless, and alone. When the human spirit is assailed by too much sickness, too much misery, and too much death, our chaplains are there to offer comfort through presence, listening, and support, sometimes joining in with our prayers and often with our tears. We are trained to wade into the midst of human suffering, to recognize spiritual distress in our fellow human beings, to promote healing even when there is no cure, and to affirm the value of life even in the face of certain death. This is what we mean by "caring for the human spirit." And this is why, now more than ever, chaplains are needed on healthcare teams that are providing curative care, palliative care, or end of life care. Chaplains should be counted in, not out!   For administrators wanting to cut the costs of doing business, I say do not cut your chaplains! Take a lesson from hospice, in which spiritual care for the dying is federally mandated, or from palliative care in which it is a best practice the world over. If you are looking for ways to increase emotional support for your frontline clinical staff or seeking to address burnout among your physicians, hire more chaplains! We are trained to do this work. Many of us have indeed been preparing our entire professional lives to rise to the challenge of such a moment in time as the one we are facing right now.   Count chaplains in, not out. And then count on us to work side by side with the other professionals on your teams, providing care for every needy human spirit we encounter. If you would like help finding professionally trained and certified chaplains to join your teams, email me at EJHall@SpiritualCareAssociation.org and I will put the resources of the HealthCare Chaplaincy Network and the Spiritual Care Association to work for you. The needs are critical and the solution is at hand.   --Eric Hall Reverend Eric J. Hall, DTh, APBCC, is President and Chief Executive Officer of HealthCare Chaplaincy Network, Inc. and the Spiritual Care Association. He is also Chancellor of the SCA University of Theology and Spirituality. Hall also serves as pastor of the Eastchester Presbyterian Church and the Lincoln Academy for early childhood learning. Formerly, he was the founder, President and CEO of the Alzheimer's Foundation of America. He can be reached at EJHall@SpiritualCareAssociation.org.   * See https://www.pewforum.org/2019/10/17/in-u-s-decline-of-christianity-continues-at-rapid-pace   ** See https://acphospitalist.org/weekly/archives/2020/04/08/3.htm