When I sing, the birds disappear, the trees shiver, and people cover their ears with a look of terror in their eyes. I don’t understand why. I love to sing. A song can make you feel as if you are floating on a cloud but it could also make you feel as if your heart is about to break. Sometimes songs can make you feel empowered, as if you can accomplish anything.
I have heard the expression, “…couldn’t carry a tune in a basket.” I wonder what that means? Well, it doesn’t matter. I sang in the chorus in school, and I sang in the church choir when I was a child. I even sang a solo once in church. I was too soft, so the choir director motioned for me to sing louder. I thought I was doing great. The louder I sang, the more people began stirring. At the end of my part, I was singing so proudly, and I ended with a smile from ear to ear. As I waited for the applause, I looked up. I saw the seats empty, and the choir director galloping out the door. Was it something I said?
“I’ve always loved to write, unfortunately my best writing has been when I was in crisis. To my dismay, I am not having any problems today so don’t expect too much.” by cm
So another phase of my life ends. We had to sell our beautiful four bedroom home on five acres. One reason was the medical bills that stacked up and the good credit we had at the time. Alzheimer’s had resided with my mother for 12 years by now. Dementia had been diagnosed. No more trips, no more dropping everything and going somewhere. Yes, the carefree phase of our lives had shut the door quickly.
We had entered a new phase. It was one of high medical debt, and maxed out credit cards. There was no end in sight to this new phase either, especially after I fell and broke my shoulder. Five surgeries if the first year alone. My mother had to be moved to a nursing center and I still needed to be with my mom often. She still needed me. I had to be sure that she was taken care of properly. I had to take her laundry home and wash it because her clothes disappeared when they went to the laundry there. Dementia in the first stage was waiting at home for me.
It does sound like I’m whining, but I’m really not. My mom died a few years ago. The dementia is in the late fourth stage, but I don’t mind. Our bills are under control and we now live in a one bedroom apartment. I wouldn’t say that life is good, but for me it is. I still have my husband home with me. I rejoice each day that we are able to communicate and be understood by each other. That is a joy in my life.
In the early years of our marriage, he had to care for me. He did it so lovingly, and never complained. He was there for each medical emergency, and each surgery. Now it is my privilege to care for him. I hope that I can do that with the same love and gentleness that he has done for me all these years. So now begins the final phase of our lives and I will still thank our heavenly father for His Kingdom. The Kingdom we pray for, the Kingdom that will rule over the entire earth. (Rev 21:4) Tells of no more death or tears.