And then God Told Elijah to Take a Nap

 

The last ten days have been EXHAUSTING. Not just exhausting for me, but for my mommy, for my sister and brother and their spouses, for my nieces and nephews, my husband and my kids...all the people I would normally lean on...they would normally lean on are all just worn out.

Daddy went into the hospital on Mothers' Day. It's not the first time. But this time I haven't known what to say, how to update. What's wrong? So many things. Congestive Heart Failure. A-fib. An issue with that oxygen tank that a stupid break through case of stupid COVID brought into his life in September. A stubborn ear infection that would not go away. And a body that's getting tired after 84 years of working on a farm, running Texacos, taking his kids fishing and camping, rescuing my mom when she ran out of gas (again), or making sure that the oil gets changed in my car. All this good living...it's a lot.

There's no good way to give an update. How he is. How I am. How "we" are. Somedays he is "good." Yesterday was a "good." He grins when we walk in the room, and tries to make jokes, really not much worse than the dad jokes he's told my whole life. Other days are bad. Just bad. I'm not even sure how I am. Some days I am calm. Eerily calm. And other days I am very much not alright. It's hard watching the same man who used to swim across our pool with me on his back struggle to lift a cup or take steps with assistance. 

This week is better so far but last week was rough. I kept hearing a part of myself in my mind respond stubbornly with "I don't want to" to everything. I don't want to make breakfast. I don't want to talk. I don't want to put on shoes or drive kids to school or show up the places I'm expected. Of course I rebuked that inner toddler, put on my big girl pants and my best brave face and did the things. But, someone very wise told me I should be nicer, more empathetic towards that part of me that just "didn't want to." Of course grown ups have some non-negotiable things that they have to do anyway-kids need to go to school and stuff. But, I could stop shaming that part of myself for feeling tired. I could give her permission to rest and maybe even eat some chocolate ice cream. I could give her ten minutes to actually loose it and maybe even cry. I didn't have to be so mean to her. I could speak to her softly, the way I might a friend. 

I hated that this wise person was right and I also loved that this wise person was right.

On Sunday I started thinking of the story of Elijah in I Kings 19:5-8. How when he was at an emotional "end" God's advice wasn't "Buck up, Buttercup." It was to tell him to eat something and take a nap. My noom health Ap keeps reminding to do some of these self-care things. Drink my water, eat things that are green, blah, blah, blah. But I needed to hear it from God too. He loves the me that is tired and wants to crawl under a blanket much more than I do.

Since draining off fluid, and treating the infection with some IV antibiotics, Dad has been well enough to transfer to a rehab facility, in hopes he can move from place to place once he returns home. The rehab facility turned out to be a beautiful place. Almost "Boogie"...his towel was folded into the shape of a puppy like he was on a Disney Cruise or something. I can visit so we listen to a Gene Watson station on Pandora, and yesterday we shared communion. He squeezes our hands and tells us he loves us. He's one of the most wonderful humans God ever created and none of us ever want to leave his side. Right there is the only place that feels right.

I probably won't post "updates" because the rollercoaster is just so full of twists and turns. I've lost track of what's positive and what's negative. It just circles. However, I will share the things I am learning.

What I've learned from my dad in this stage of his life is what a gift it is to have no burned bridges, no hard feelings, no apologies left unspoken or received. What a beautiful, uncommon thing. I think I took for granted the way my dad could love so many different people so well. Growing up I figured that was just the way people were. I was wrong. It's really not. Love your people well. Make good with the people you might not get to listen to Pandora with in a hospital room when they're 84. Making friends everywhere we go keeps us young. Bitterness robs our life of years and our years of life.

Be kind and patient with the people you come across. We don't usually get to wear a t-shirt announcing to the world that we're one rude comment away from a melt down or that we and all the people who keep us strong are in a crisis. Give people permission to not show up when the voice saying, "I just don't want to" gets too loud. Give them permission to eat something and take a nap.

I know I'm not the only one "going through it."  My mom, and sister, and brother, and dad aren't either. If you're also "going through it"...be kind to yourself. Be empathetic with the part of you that feels so needy, so human, so much not like conquering the world right now. Not only did God tell Elijah to practice a little self care, even Jesus took some time away. He ate, and he took naps. It's ok.