Spillin' the Tea at 503

Today’s theme seems to be equal parts sweetness, practicality and celebration.

For lunch, Nanna and Big Guy polished off the leftover BBQ ribs from Monday night (Trish cooked) –  and I have to say, they enjoyed every bite like it was a brand-new meal. Big Guy added a tall glass of chocolate milk to the mix. I mentioned to him that he and Oliver – my grandson – share the same love for it.

And speaking of Oliver…

Happy 5th Birthday, Oliver!
It feels like just yesterday he was learning to crawl around and now he’s a little man with a love for chocolate milk that rivals Big Guy’s. Full circle moments like these always make me smile – from one generation to the next, sometimes it’s the simple things that connect us. And then there’s baseball – I think he just might share his Pop’s love for the game, as well his Pop’s team. Last week, he took in two MLB games with his Mom and Aunt Stefia in Baltimore, where the Orioles were hosting the Yankees – Pop’s team! As he was heading home to New Jersey with his Mom, he told her “Actually Mom, I think I want to be a baseball player.” A few moments later, “And I want to be a Yankee.” I love that kid and I love this picture … this is what pure joy looks like!

Back to reality …

This morning also brought a delivery: two oxygen machines. They’re here “just in case,” and while it feels a little sobering to have them lined up, it’s also reassuring. Life with Nanna and Big Guy at 95 and 91 is a delicate dance of faith, laughter and preparation.

So today we mark the moment: ribs for lunch, chocolate milk for the boy(s), new oxygen machines for peace of mind and a birthday that reminds us how precious (and fleeting) each year really is.

The past two days have been pretty good – no major blow-ups, no significant problems. The nose picking continues and Big Guy started scratching in various places a few days ago – sometimes vigorously. His skin is so thin and easily bruised – he’s leaving marks. Yesterday, we were visited by two nurses – both came to talk through our next steps for hospice. They were here for two hours making sure we understood – Trish, Anne, Mom, Dad, me – what hospice entailed. Things like who pays for what, nurse visits, frequency of visits, social worker and Chaplain availability, medication. It was a lot of information for us to wrap our heads around and we’re sure to have a ton more questions as we get deeper into it. While here, they also changed the dressing of his wound on his left arm and noticed that although it was healing, there might be some fungus growing underneath all of the bandaging. They cleaned it and dressed it and will be prescribing some meds to take for a few days to clear it up. It could be the source of the itching, as well.

Anne has been helping him shower every other day while he has his arm wrapped up. He’ll be able to take care of this with less assistance when the dressing comes off (he’ll still need some assistance); however, until then, he needs the extra help in the shower. And there’s no one better than Anne to help with that, having years of experience working with elderly residents at the St Mary’s Villa in Moscow, PA. In the future, we’re looking to have a nurse visit on shower days – as part of hospice – to ensure he doesn’t fall or hurt himself.

The weather is dipping down into the mid-80’s these days – cold by nonagenarian standards! So, sweaters are a necessity!

Most days, Dad stares quietly at the table or drifts off into sleep, forgetting the little details of what’s happened earlier in the day, the night before, the day before. He has no knowledge of the government shutdown, the Secretary of War issuing new directives to our Nation’s military leadership, a burned Mormon church in Michigan. But in those quiet pauses, there are flashes of connection – a smile at a joke, a sip of Amaretto, a spark of recognition when we remind him of something familiar. Of course, he is particularly amused as we regale moments of his past when he said something funny, snarky or sarcastic! Those small moments carry so much weight, reminding us that presence matters more than memory.

For the life of me, I don’t know how Anne provided the care she did for Mom and Dad for seven months on her own. But, I thank God for the gift of family – from the littlest ones celebrating birthdays to the elders who guide us with their love and presence. I pray God grants us health, laughter, patience and the strength to walk together in faith each day.

Until next time …