But we're making our way.
Here's a bit of a picture gallery of the first week.
Saturday Grampie held his favorite picture of his four children, watching the Oregon Ducks put a whooping on their cross-state rivals (the Beavers). When I asked him why he was holding it the way he was, he said, "I want them to watch with me."
Grampie's appetite has been hit and miss. I can't figure him out. He used to have such a huge appetite and made sure our kids were 'clean-platers', too. But these days, he refuses after about a bite, or just plain won't eat at all. Sigh. I feel like I'm the mother of a 6'8" baby and I'm trying to get to know him. Today he refused to talk to me all-together. His refusing took the form of him snapping his eyes shut tight whenever I spoke to him--like if he couldn't see me he also wouldn't be able to hear me. And let me tell you, that man can be STUBBORN: there was a whole lot of squeezed closed eyes today. I just left him in his recliner and went back to my sewing machine. I mean, if he didn't want to eat lunch, what would it hurt in the long run?
And after Beve got home, all was forgotten.
He's definitely NOT a baby, as you can plainly tell. This is the Hoyer lift used to move Grampie. In theory I can use it. In reality, once he's settled in the sling, he's REALLY heavy. It takes two people to navigate it. The aides who've worked with it for years are still getting used to moving someone as large as Grampie, and even Beve likes J or me to help guide him. But it's pretty slick when it works, and Grampie actually enjoys it, which is helpful for everyone.
But we're laughing and enjoying it and have a huge sense of God's presence.
Grampie's presence, the presence we couldn't really prepare for no matter how much we prepared, is real now. It's bigger and taking up space in every part of our home. But that's how God meets us too. I realized yesterday that I have to develop a new routine to my mornings, for example. For the last decade, I've gotten up, grabbed tea and sat quietly in my living room for as long as it took to awaken, talk to God, read, meditate, enter into the day. Now my living room is Grampie's space--completely and totally. And his aides have been busy with him there for two hours by the time I get up each day. So today I grabbed my tea and went back to my room, sat in my cozy bed and met God there. It was exactly where I needed to meet Him for such a day as this, especially this day when Grampie would close his eyes against me and I'd find the (internal) humor in it. That's Holy Spirit humor, I think, because I know the frustration was itching to rise. I could feel it.
There we are. Pressing on.
And God meets us.
And it's good.