Vernon HAS been moved, at long last, but instead of celebrating, I just feel emotional and exhausted. So I will fill you in on the new details about that tomorrow, when I’ll be more ready to process things.
In the meantime, I’ll share a MAKI moment that came up this afternoon.
This is one of Maki’s favorite songs at the moment. (It’s not lost on me how cool it is to have a young teenager in the house who is into music that I also like. I may have 99 problems, but this ain’t one.) As we were listening to the song on the way home this afternoon, I asked him why he liked it.
“Lots of reasons,” he said. “But the words are brilliant. Here, listen to this part. It reminds me of us.”
He turned up the chorus.
I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone Don’t go thinking you gotta be tough, to play like a stone Could be there’s nothing else in our lives so critical As this little home!
Well this will be a simple song to say what you’ve done I told you about all those fears and away they did run You sure must be strong And you feel like an ocean Being warmed by the sun
“It even mentions a little home,” he added. “Just like the one we moved into.”
I hear it with new ears now, to think what he hears. He knows we aren’t doing this alone and that makes so much difference. Maybe its my favorite song now too, just because it’s his.
(I wish I remembered the name of the artist I picked this up from years ago. She never signed it but its been on our walls since I first married Vernon. He was always romantic about the tiny California houses so different to the ones he saw, growing up in England. It’s still on our wall.)
“For it is in giving that we receive.” St. Francis.
I had signed up at the beginning of the year to intentionally show kindness to someone else in the greater community as part of the church’s 365 project. The idea is to have every day of the year committed to. Our date was January 26. Little did we know at the time of signing up that it would be the last day (we hope!) at Vernon’s Newport Subacute home. But I had thought our project would probably center on the nursing home residents, as we have such access to them, and they are so easy to give to.
I wanted the kids to be involved…and even Vernon, if possible. So the trick was how to make this a family affair. The kids and I could make mini-paintings as gifts for some of the patients, but when I realized it would be Vernon’s last day, it seemed that we should give them out in his name, as a sort of farewell gesture. I don’t know how much the residents got attached to Vernon in his time there or even if many of them will even recognize his absence later, but it seemed appropriate to mark the passage, and say goodbye in the midst of our little ‘kindness project.’
As usual these things involve more than just the immediate family. Pattie at the SC Art Supply donated the thick foam board, and when Sandy dropped by in the evening, she was promptly put to work. It was a busy day and I sort of forgot to start the project till about 9 o’clock. Oops. No rest for the creative, I guess.
Between the four of us, we hashed out over two dozen. odd little paintings. We meant it as a kindness to others, but whenever the kids and I do artwork together, its always a special time—and good soul therapy. If we had stopped right there, we would have already been fulfilled.
We weren’t sure how it was all going to work, but we had also bought a carton of safari animal toys. Some, I know, have a hard time seeing, so maybe they would prefer a little toy they cold hold and feel instead.
In the end, I think we could have brought anything. What delighted them most was having a sweet little child skipping around the lunch room and singling them out with her attention. The choosing of the cards and animals gave her an extra purpose.
Maki, a little shyer about handing out gifts, found an equally important purpose in keeping his dad company whist his sister flitted around the room.
In my mind, I had thought perhaps we could wheel Vernon around from room to room, so he could say goodbye on his own. But he was in a bit of a confused state again today so it worked out best for him and Maki to just chill out on their own anyway. He was still involved in the message. This is what was written on the back of each painting:
And they ARE special. We will miss seeing them. I doubt that our family’s little giving project made a dent in anyone’s lives. But there were some extra smiles.
And that made a small dent in their day. We were smiling too.
There is a Chinese proverb that says: “Every smile makes you a day younger. ” If so, I can’t think of a place that trick of nature would be more appropriate than a convalescent home.
As I watched Vernon work on a simple jigsaw puzzle today, I thought about how nice it would be if there were carved guides on the tables before us (or even picture boxes) as we attempt to piece together the bigger puzzles in our lives. Vernon’s had indented guides on the cardboard frame, but he wasn’t seeing them. He just felt the edges, kept turning them around and around until they fit. It was only a picture of the numbers 0-9, with only a handful of pieces, but he had to struggle his way through it, not understanding what the final image would be.
I thought about our situation, how so many of the edge pieces have fallen into place over the past months, hemming in the bigger picture. The frame is there. But sometimes all I can see is the huge pile of mismatched shapes, the forest instead of the trees. I can’t feel the invisible guides and there is no picture—not even a box. But that doesn’t mean the picture doesn’t exist. Its emerging with every piece that fits into another.
Today, “the Three Muses” paid a Visit to Vernon. Here they are putting together another cardboard puzzle. Sometimes, we need a little help to solve these things. Fresh eyes, extra hands.
All three of these ladies are special friends of my mother (and therefore, me.) Nancy is a Physical Therapist who has been occasionally looking in on Vernon’s progress and offering knowledgable suggestions to me for several months. Lois, I have mentioned before, is like an aunt to me and is also a nurse who has been helping me make sense of the care Vernon is/is not getting from a medical perspective. And Marcia, such a dear lady, has provided her unique support all along the way. Vernon was treated to their company all at once today. He was all smiles and conversation with them. Of course they were all charmed, and why should’t they be?
As I have mentioned before, the biggest gap I’ve been puzzling over lately is where to get Vernon placed next. I know he has generally improved, but I still feel that physically (and perhaps mentally) he should be further along than he is. I don’t think he’s being given the chance to really work at his recovery. It’s something I struggle with inside myself as I wonder: Am I just holding the bar too high? Will I ever be satisfied? Will ANY place be good enough? But asking those questions is pointless, because no one was signing up to take Vernon’s complicated case anyway.
A little over a month ago, my friend Talar (who is a nurse and hospital case manager) gave me the number of her friend at another Newport Care Home. She recommended his help as well as his facility. I have been texting and talking with him since then. He’s been patient in answering all my questions, and I’ve learned a lot more about the system. It has been encouraging to have someone so knowledgeable help us out at our level. He was also willing to take on Vernon as a patient. I’ve met some of the physical therapists at this new place and I really like their approach. Still, a lot of things had to come together: insurance, timing, paperwork, available beds. Like Vernon turning the pieces in his hands, I turned this problem over and over and it just didn’t resolve.
Yet this afternoon, it finally fell into its slot. Vernon has been approved for the move and he will be transferred on Monday to this new care home, only a few miles away from the current one. This weekend, which marks week 35, and the beginning of Month 9, Vernon will start the next chapter of his recovery. Together, we’ll figure out the next steps from there….
Vernon was feeling well enough to enjoy the show, again pronouncing that he’s “always really liked Elvis.” (I haven’t been able to verify this yet.) This picture is hilarious. I’m not sure what Vernon was going for, but it works.
Here is a little segment of our Elvis, performing Paralyzed. Somewhat fitting, I must say. But even if this wasn’t a dancing crowd, don’t think for a moment that he wasn’t a hit.
Moving right along. The anger of the previous week has carved a way for a new sadness to move through. A light blanket of it seems to be hanging around the last few days, waiting for the quiet moments to make itself noticed.
Last night, I took Maki to see The Imitation Game, which we enjoyed very much. (We both loooove Benedict Cumberbatch.) I think we realized we were looking to each other to take Vernon’s place as Movie Date in our lives, at least for the time being. The film was SO British, and it was set in WWII, which was a period of great historical interest for Vernon. I found myself crying in parts that weren’t actually meant to be sad, thinking of Vernon, how he might have enjoyed it, thinking of a great mind that might not be used in its former field again, thinking of Maki growing up and becoming a new sort of companion, one with whom I can watch more grown-up movies and discuss them afterward. It’s all so bittersweet.
But I admit the Bitter has recently been dwindling a bit longer than it has over the past many months. I had been so busy in reaction mode, I hadn’t been able to stop long enough to even miss Vernon’s presence at home for long. This week will mark Month Eight. We’ve moved into a new home without him. I’ve painted all the walls without him. My bedroom has never had him in it. It’s MY bedroom, not OUR bedroom. His clothes have not been unpacked. (I’ve mentioned this a bit before, I know…but its starting to sink in more as we settle into our new environment.) I washed the spare car in order to sell it and save money on monthly insurance fees, knowing he won’t need a stick-shift, let alone a car of his own for a very long time, if ever.
The marathon (not a sprint) concept that was bandied around so much in the early days is finally sinking in. I’m tired. I feel as if I have huffed and puffed to the top of a hill, hoping to take a little break while I enjoy the view, only to realize in the vast landscape spread out before me, I still can’t see the end of the road. Where I thought I was many miles in, with a pretty good pace, I come to find out that it’s only been a mile and there are at least twenty-five more to go.
That said… our family continues to be sustained and built-up. And I know the second wind comes…and the third, and fourth, and fifth, ad infinitum…
And one of the resetting tools I have found is Gratitude. This has been a powerful lesson, not a mere Hallmark Card quip.
In this very week, we have been blessed again and again. Let me count (just some)of the ways…
The Severson’s coming over to build pantry shelves and spray-paint outdoor furniture in happy colors.
Maki taking it upon himself to update my phone’s operating system.
Kat making delicious soup to send home with Justine after babysitting her one overcast afternoon.
My dear friend Andrea (who also babysits Justine) taking it upon herself to load our freezer with homemade meals, organize my new pantry (thanks again, Joe!), unpack the office (which I hadn’t even touched)
AND if that wasn’t enough…surprise me with the vintage coffee table she knew I had been coveting for a long time.
Beautiful winter light…my favorite season in Southern California.
Getting to hold Baby Autrey.
Finishing the painting of the rooms…the last done with company: my dear friend Nicole came down from LA to make the job so much more enjoyable.
Sharing her with my friend Sandy.
A couple of nice walks. Good conversation.
A movie date with Maki…
….which brings me back to the beginning. Sort of. Except I’m not feeling as blue as I was. See how that works?
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.”—Philippians 4:8
I took the kids up today to see Vernon. Justine was all ready to play doctor in her dress-up uniform. And Maki had loaded the iPad with music to share. But we were stopped at the door with the telltale signs of a patient in isolation.
Thankfully, Justine was allowed to go in as long as she suited up.
Maki’s already a pro at this sort of thing.
We were told that if all goes well, Vernon should be back to normal by Thursday.
In the meantime, Dr. Justine made sure his vital signs were fine.
And took a short video.
Maki did his best to keep the conversation going…
but it wasn’t long before we had to admit it just wasn’t a good visiting day for Dad.
So we left him to get his rest.
Here is the meta video of Justine interviewing her dad on camera. She’s certainly been picking up some skills.
A special cover of Vernon's fav song 'Waterloo Sunset' by friend and singer/song-writer Ian McGlynn. All proceeds support Vernon's recovery! Donate what you can and download a beautiful song in return.
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