A few weeks ago, my step dad was in his last days of life.  We had to hire private in-home care.  The first gal that showed up was 6 ft tall and buff.  There was something comforting about that because my dad was 6’5’  in his prime, though he had shrunk a bit over the years. The first thing I told her was to follow his lead.  We weren’t in a hurry, and he had a lot of pain.

Her first task was to take him from his recliner to his bed.  She informed him how to follow her lead.  They seem to start out okay. This was my first rodeo, so I assumed she knew more than I did when it came to this scenario. (it’s not like you get this kind of thing down after two rodeos though.) 

She put him in the wheel chair and got a head start to roll him up the ramp.  His body looked like he was on a roller coaster ride at Disney Land.  I gasped in shock.  She took him to the bedroom and abruptly stripped him.  He was devastated.  Again, I gasped as I quickly turned my head to honor his need for privacy and my own need to not leave images that can’t be erased.  I shouted, “My head is turned.  My head is turned!”.

I reminded her to let him lead the way and not to rush him. He was just a few months shy of 90 years old.  She wanted him to stand up so she told him on the count of 3 he needed to stand.  He was adjusting himself to the edge of the bed.  She said, 1, 2… and he said WAIT!  She said, “There’s no waiting and started to jerk him up. 

 I grabbed her arm and firmly said STOP!  I told you to do things in his time. You listen to him! He will tell you when he’s ready.

The next shift an amazing, high quality young lady came to help.  She was wonderful but not available again.

The following gal we caught pilfering through the garbage cans, I believe trying to find any left over meds in disposed syringes.  Though we felt suspicious we didn’t want to jump to conclusions and had her back a second time.  She smelled like alcohol and was obsessed with taking the garbage out instead of caring for my dad. We didn’t invite her back.

Having each care giver come to the house was exhausting. I had to retell his story every time.  I had to educate them of his pain points and my moms needs. They were just as much there to keep an eye on her as she has stage 4 kidney disease and brain cancer.  

Though my parents needed help, we were trying to set up a support system for my sister and I as we were doing our best to care for our parents in the comfort of their home. Being the Cindy that I am I had to operate in my super power and create a duplicatable system so I didn’t have to baby sit the babysitter, if you get my drift.  

I sat down to write a to-do list but this is what came out instead.  It wasn’t about tasks but about an attitude, a position of the heart.  When I showed Mike he said, “Wow!  That’s beautiful.  That’s not a to-do list that’s a mission statement.”

I shared this with my dad’s  Hospice team.  They shared it with their whole staff.  I shared it with the caregiving company, and they shared it with all their employees.  I’ve been told several times that every care giver should read this, so I’m sharing it here.

To share the details of this month, my dad passed away on November 3^rd,   just three weeks ago.  My mom flew up to stay with us on November 19^th and ended up in ER on November 22^nd with a major abdominal surgery the next day, Thanksgiving Day.  She has not quite returned to us mentally yet.  I’ve been with her daily, waiting for her to return to me.  This makes me even more grateful I wrote these words just 30 days ago because they defined the boundaries and expectations of anyone in the position of caring for either of my parents. These words redefined expectations of myself in this role. I didn’t expect to have to use them again so soon.  God is so gracious, isn’t He.  In these moments, in the thick of the fight, I didn’t have to define anything again. Thank you, gracious Abba..

I can’t revisit past days that I had opportunity to honor my parents.  I’ve failed at it many times in the past.  Heck, I probably have failed at it today.  I’ve learned that the commandment to honor my parents certainly blesses them but has much more to do with the growth inside of me as I fight to love deeper, to hear them and understand what honors them, to learn from their wisdom of living on this earth much longer than I have. It normally doesn’t line up with my sometimes impatient moments and direct personality and perspectives, which are uncomfortably similar to the first paid caregiver or the third paid caregivers’ habit of doing something to see what’s in it for themselves.  

In the moments I wrote this the words were simply reflecting the shift that was happening within me.  I wept a lot. I was deeply humbled and repentant as I saw the unattractive similarities between the paid caregivers and myself.  In other words, it was a good day. There aren’t many things better than a good dose of truth from Holy Spirit.

If you hung around long enough to read the ditty I wrote to the care givers, here you go:

“Hello, this is Bill, my dad. He’s lived 90 years of life and our goal is for his last days to be as lovely as possible. 

Eunice is his wife, my mother. She was a nurse for over 30 years and has grace, joy and patience we can all learn from as she cares for her husband to the best of her ability.

As we serve them both let’s strive to equal her pace in his care as she guides us in honoring him with the dignity, kindness and gentleness that he deserves. 

When we do her chores, mop her floors, do the dishes and the heavy lifting we prop her up for her greatest position in loving him. 

Our job here is to make him the star of the show. 

We are here to serve him with her guidance and to make both of their lives easier in each moment as they must say a temporary goodbye soon.

It is not their role to make our jobs easier for us or quicker for us. It is not their role to learn your system or mine. Their role is to teach you and I how we may serve them with excellence. They set the pace and the tone for each moment.

As their daughter, this is a great honor. I’m inviting you to come and experience the beauty with me and learn about love and grace by witnessing it firsthand.”

Exodus 20:12“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.

Has anyone else ever noticed that 26% of this verse says to honor your father and mother and 74% of this verse is about what happens to us when we do!!  Cha-Ching!

There are rich undertones to this Scripture.  It’s a very simple Scripture.  Sure, there is obedience involved and I’ve certainly strived for that obedience but there’s much more. Sure, cultivating honor by practicing gratitude is key but there’s still so much more. 

This Scripture doesn’t mention that we are to qualify our father and mother before honoring them.  There is not one parent that would fully qualify.  I know my pride and brokenness alone would and have disqualified me as a mom.  This richness only occurs when we pursue intimacy with the Jesus that clears our broken views and allows us to see as He does. What a view it is.  The brokenness falls away in response to His goodness and honoring becomes a grace gift from Him, flows through us and is presented as a beautifully wrapped gift to our father and mother in response to being in His presence. Honoring comes from the overflow of being in His presence.  It can’t be mustered from sheer will, not at the heart level, though we can partner with Him and cultivate and harrow the field with gratitude and obedience. Those things may prime the pump for the outpouring, but His gift of new eyes is simply a gift and other worldly.  Isn’t it like Him to require use to offer something that we are only capable of offering if we receive it from Him first.

This resounding, paralleling message is the receiving of grace and forgiveness only being possible because He first sent the gift of Jesus so we can receive those gifts…. Whew! It’s so simple isn’t it but so hard to wrap our minds around, as our logic wreaks havoc on grace.  Just ask Him.  Ask is a big word with only three letters.  It should have more letters in it because it’s a locked and loaded word.  Just ASK!