Hello, Four Somethings. Nice to see you again.

My online friend, Heather, hosts a monthly blog link up.

I am an infrequent, but always welcome, participant.

Reading through my post from nearly a year ago, I was a tad bit (hugely) depressed to see that I was looking forward to a remodeled house almost a year ago.

Guess what my “Something Ahead” could be today? You guessed it. A remodeled house.

You may not be surprised to learn that my marriage has seen better and easier days than these we have now…but I digress.

Something loved…

It’s true it was inconvenient, and many in other parts of my state suffered enormously. I am not minimizing that in any way.

But it was breathtakingly beautiful.

Something read…

In this case something said because I FINALLY finished the audio of Brene Brown’s I thought It Was Just Me, But It’s Not.

She is brilliant and I love her words. (For those who may wonder, YES, her politics are too liberal for me, but I can easily set that aside to dig in to the wondrous information she has about humanity.)

In the book she says something along the lines of, “Shame always results in fear, blame, and disconnection.” I am digging and reflecting with a huge desire to make sure those things are no part of my relationship with my grown kids.

It’s hhhhhhaaaaaarrrrrrrddddd.

Something treasured…

I am homeschooling well for the first time in a long time…

I took the time to write out my real goals for my daughter and our life as a family. As I thought and prayed, I realized the absolute most important thing was to ensure my daughter was tired at the end of the day.

Our nighttimes were getting stupidly hard, and the real reason was she was understimulated during the day. Painful to acknowledge, but that became the focus of planning the rhythm and routines for our schedule.

We have not yet reached perfection…but we are on our way to much better.

I treasure that.

Something ahead…

There were some $%^$&**y things that happened in January that I am still recovering from. Caring for aging and infirm parents is not for the faint of heart.

But I am close to having a routine for them that delights me. YAY. Infrared saunas, massages, balance board therapy, the gym, the salon, lots and lots of walks, and lunches out. I told my mom, “I don’t want you to never again see a sunset because you are sitting in your chair watching Fox News.”

Just over the hill from their home is Lake Palestine, where the sunsets are beautiful.

My now non-verbal mother still has a poet’s heart. I am constructing a team dedicated to infusing beauty into her days.

My once-brilliant jurist of a father, as it turns out, has a deformed tongue that resulted in a lifelong case of sleep apnea. The sleep specialist walked me through what happens, explaining that his brain cells are dying from lack of oxygen while he sleeps.

That makes so much sense.

We are hoping to fix that problem and stop that decline by the end of next week. I am constructing a team dedicated to movement and stimulatiion and fuller days.

I am hiring a tutor once a week for my precious little peanut, who isn’t little anymore. This will anchor our week and help her learn to interact with more people.

And, of course, someday I may have a remodeled kitchen.

Lots to look forward to!

On Life

My mom has one of those diseases.

You know the ones. Those that when you see it in someone else, it makes you go, “I don’t ever want to be that person.”

The ones that cause pity to boil up from the little-thought-about depths of our humanity.

Some days I cannot believe this is our life. Her life.

My mother, who spent our entire childhoods oversharing, cannot talk. She is fed by a tube. She has no use of her right hand and painfully little use of the left.

Communicating is a grueling process of pointing at letters on a laminated printout of the alphabet. I say I want to get a high priced, eye gaze technology communication device for her, but the paperwork sits unattended.

There are always a million plates spinning.


I often don’t like reality.

I prefer hope.


I want to believe that if I find the right vitamins and do the right therapies and hire the right people my parents might get better.

Everyone looks at me like I am nuts, and I am beginning to think they are right.


Lord, I really want to live a life that honors YOU, but I admit I also want a bit of the miraculous to spill onto my mundane.

There is so. much. mundane.


In the span of ten days, as I am trying to create a thriving routine for both my special needs daughter and my special needs parents, people have had car problems, kidney problems, the stomach flu, tooth aches, seizures, electrical problems, allergies and an impending snow storm.

I need to take a moment and say, “Back off, Satan. You are not welcome here. You will not reign. YOU DO NOT WIN.”

The enemy of my soul desires my destruction and if he cannot have my destruction he will take my discouragement.

He cannot have it.


I start again tomorrow. Praying for progress and peace.

Searching for beauty. Trying to grow. Making things I can control better while accepting the things I cannot control might very well get worse.