I'm your dad, and you're my daughter

    I'll never forget the day "Uncle Shorty" finally became "Dad" to me. I put it off for years, keeping that part of my heart closed off as deeply as I could. It was Father's Day, several years ago, and instead of the usual "Papa" cards from the kids, I felt a strong desire to also get him a "Dad" card from me. I don't remember what it said, but it was perfect. When he read it, and I finally called him Dad, the look on his face told me I had done the right thing. That smile is forever seared into my heart! Words on a piece of folded, decorated cardstock made him smile at me with love, acceptance, pride, and joy in his eyes, and during the hug we shared, he told me, "I'm your dad, and you're my daughter. You always have been, ever since we got you. I'm real proud of you. I love you, daughter."
     After that day, he never missed an opportunity to call me his daughter, and every time he said it, he got that same proud, loving look on his face. Let me tell you, nothing broke those walls around my heart down faster than that face. He was my dad, and I was his daughter. Even as his mind was gradually stolen by Alzheimer's, he still called me daughter and gave me that smile. I will be forever grateful that God gave me a lucid goodbye, and that Dad's last words to me were "I love you."
     Now, on Father's Day, I find myself realizing that I don't just miss him. I also miss the men he replaced. I know that I resisted letting him fill their place for a reason, and now I am reminded why I was so stubborn. The ache in my heart is so deep that it takes my breath away - I grieve for Dad, knowing that visiting him tomorrow will mean visiting a grave. I grieve for Papa, the first man to ever show me what consistent, unconditional, fatherly love really is. I grieve for Fred, my bio dad, for the man he used to be and the man he has become. I grieve for all that I have lost and for all that could have been. I grieve, and I remember.
      I remember Fred taking me into the Frito-Lay truck when I was just a toddler, telling me I could choose any treat I wanted from the vast array. His voice was so gentle, his eyes so loving, and I knew how much he loved being my dad then.
     I remember staying up all night playing dominos with Papa, talking about anything and everything, or enjoying a comfortable silence. Those late nights are my favorite memory of my teenage years.
     I remember staying with Mom and Dad when Aaron was a baby, waking up to the sound of Aaron yelling 'hey!' when Dad walked by, and Dad yelling 'hey!' right back before coming to get him for some quality Papa-Aaron time.
     I remember the day Fred told me that his home was no longer my home, when I was 7 years old and completely blindsided by losing my daddy only two years after losing my mommy, unable to comprehend that he'd had to choose between me and his new family. 
     I remember the day Papa died, knowing he was gone the moment he let go of my arm and fell to the floor. I still shiver when I remember the bitter cold wind that chilled me to the bone as we buried Papa and Grandma together, when I was 16 and wondering how life could go on when I believed I had no one left to love me.
     I remember helping mom choose the flowers for Dad's funeral, overwhelmed with gratefulness that I had the privilege of being his daughter and being involved in the final days and moments of his life, but also overwhelmed with guilt at all the years I spent pushing him away.
     Happy Father's Day in heaven, Dad and Papa. Dad - you'll always be my dad, and I'll always be your daughter. Your grandchildren and I miss you more than words can say.  Papa - It's been so long since I lost you, and yet you are still with me in so many ways. My kids know what a great inventor and handyman you were, and how much you loved Little Debbies and strawberry pop. You'll always be a hero in my eyes.
     And, though I know you'll never hear it, Happy Father's Day, Fred. I hope you know that there's always a piece of my heart that belongs to you.

Grief is not just a word

Grief. Oh, that word. It's such a small word! Deceptively small, for such a large emotion. The feelings are never-ending, so shouldn't the word be longer than 5 letters? It's been almost three months since Dad died, and I still feel like I'm on autopilot most of the time. I'm not randomly bursting into tears on a daily basis anymore, so that's a plus. I even feel joy, happiness, and other positive emotions occasionally. Most days I think I seem pretty normal to everyone around me. All of these are definitely steps in the right direction, I think.
Yes, all those are good things, but I'm still not OK. I want to be. Oh, how I desperately want to be. This SUCKS. I always thought it was so odd that I literally don't remember the 6 months after my grandparents died, but now I understand it completely. If it was anything like this, it's no wonder I can't remember. I can't even keep track of what day it is, much less create memories that will still be there years from now. Some days, I think I'm back to myself again. I work, I enjoy life, I smile and laugh, I praise my Creator, I love, I pray, I sleep. Other days, I wonder when this shadow will ever lift. It's not that I can't function, it's more like I just don't want to. I'm tired, all the time. I rarely want to fix my hair, or put on my makeup, or pay attention to what I'm wearing. I've only been to church sporadically since he got so sick. That alone is SO hard! I love my church. I love being at the church with my church - holding babies, worshiping, laughing, talking, hugging....I love it all. My friends want me to come back. My husband wants me to come back. My kids, especially my oldest, want me to come back and don't understand why I don't. Heck, I don't even understand it, really. All I know is that I'm not ready. I've tried - I've gone several times, with most of those times ending in tears. So I stay home (thank you, Lord, for Church Online!). I know that one day I will be ready, I will go back. I know that I should be there. I know how important my church is and how much my spiritual life is bolstered by communion with other believers. I know that the longer I shut myself off, the less support and help I will receive from those who love me. I know how much I need that support and love. And yet, I'm just not ready. I hope and pray that my friends will not forget me, that they will realize how much I still love and need them, but I also know that their life is still going on full speed ahead. I know that friendship is a two-way street. I know that my withdrawal doesn't help friendships. So I wait. One day, this too will pass. Because I know that God is ENOUGH for me, I hold on, keep praying, keep worshiping, keep crying out to him, and I wait for the fog to dissipate.
And I know, with all my heart, that it will dissipate. There is life after grief. I know, because I've lived it. And one day, I will live it again. In the meantime, please be patient with me. I'm doing the very best that I can.

Just One Word

Last January, I wrote a blog post about my 'one word' for 2013. If you haven't seen it, check it out here:Yep, I'm crazy.... When I look back on that post and realize just how much our lives have changed since then, I realize that God was so very faithful in showing me just how much "more" he is able to do, even when I have less to give. Especially when I have less to give. I had no idea when I stopped serving in LifeKIDS a year ago that by the time the year was over, I would be thankful for my Sunday mornings alone. When I wrote Alzheimer's is a horrid, cruel disease. last March, I had no idea that less than six months later, I'd be using every ounce of my emotional, mental, and physical energy just to function as we struggled to find Dad a home and keep him safe. I didn't know that I would be writing his obituary by October, or how deeply I would be overcome by depression afterward. I had no idea that as the calendar marked a new year, my emotions would still be so fragile that even attending church would become difficult. It's been over two months since Dad met Jesus, and I still haven't conquered this demon we call depression. Last year, I somehow missed the point of "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more...according to HIS power at work within us" and mistakenly believed that I would be the one doing "more" instead of realizing that GOD would be the one doing "more" in me. As we greet this new year, I am broken, humbled, completely reliant on God's strength instead of my own. And so, with my inadequacies and weaknesses bared for all to see, I realize that my word this year is "enough". But He said to me, My grace (My favor and loving-kindness and mercy) is ENOUGH for you...my strength and power are made perfect (fulfilled and completed) and show themselves most effective in {your} weakness. Therefore, I will all the more gladly glory in my weaknesses...that the strength and power of Christ (the Messiah) may rest (yes, may pitch a tent over and dwell) upon me!!   2 Corinthians 12:9

Enough. God's power, God's grace, God's kindness, God's favor....he is enough for me. His power is most effective when I am weak. All this inadequacy I am feeling, all this absolute powerlessness, makes me strong because I am living by HIS power, not my own. And as I know, he is able to do immeasurably more than I can even imagine, let alone do, myself. He is enough. He is more than enough. Already, in the very first day of this new year, I have seen his favor, his mercy, his love. I have watched my husband teach our son how to replace a doorknob, and by doing so, he also taught him how to follow through on promises and how to show others love in the ways they receive it best. That one simple lesson in home improvement showed just how much my amazing husband loves all of us. I am blessed. I have enough. Just today, we received an amazing gift from Cory's parents that will continue to bless us for months and years to come. We have jobs, we have food, we have clothing, and a home. We have our family - all five people in our house love Jesus and love others, and that makes all the difficult moments a little bit easier to navigate. We have pets, reliable vehicles, cable tv, and lots of love. We have friends who are close enough to be family, a church family we love dearly, and the best extended family we could ever ask for. We're always just one text away from a smile - a photo of our sweet baby niece, a funny joke, an encouraging lift from a friend. We are living under the favor, strength, and power of the Messiah, and that is enough. No matter how long this season of depression and weakness lasts, I will remind myself, every day if I have to, that I have God's power, and therefore, I have enough.

Funeral Etiquette

WARNING: Do NOT read this post if you are looking for a feel-good, happy, thankful post. I am angry, I am hurting, I am grieving, I am irritable. While some of this may be judgmental or catty, most is actually useful advice...

FUNERAL ETIQUETTE

• No matter how casual the dress code, see-through is never an appropriate choice. No one wants to see your underclothes (or lack of them) while burying a loved one.
• If you’re not sure what to say, just say ‘I’m sorry.’ They may not be the most eloquent words, but the family probably won’t remember what you say to them anyway. Nothing you can say will make them truly feel better, but your words can make them feel worse.
• Carry plenty of tissues and offer them freely. The ones provided by the funeral home are like tissue paper and are not ideal for wiping eyes, noses, or anything else.
• You will be uncomfortable. Deal with it. Everyone else is sitting in the same hard chairs, or standing in the same cold wind, just like you. Funerals are not designed for comfort.
• If someone offers you a funeral program or anything else the family has chosen to hand out, just take it. If you refuse, you look like an inconsiderate jerk.
• Don’t talk during the service. Ever. Nothing you have to say is that important.
• If the deceased person has done you the honor of raising your child(ren) for you, you need to be at the funeral. Here are a few special guidelines, just for you:
• First, show up, sit down and shut up. Honor the person who filled your shoes by respecting the rest of the family.
• Your child is grieving. Comfort them. Do not roll your eyes at your child. Do not expect your child's natural love for you to overcome the loss they are feeling.
• If your child has a meltdown, you should be the FIRST person to get up and check on them. If they don't want your comfort, go check on them anyway.
• Your child just lost a parent. This is your opportunity to step back in and BE a parent, even if only for an hour or two. Consider it a blessing to be there, not a burden.
• If you can't manage to behave appropriately, just stand up in the middle of the service, walk to the casket, and take a bow. You have officially managed to make someone else's funeral all about you. Side note: don't be surprised if you somehow don't find out about the next family funeral until AFTER it's over.
• If you can’t manage to attend, send flowers. Or a plant. Or both. Better yet, do both AND show up. There are very, very few legitimate excuses for not showing up.
• If you don’t like the music, the preacher, the casket, the flowers, or anything else, keep your opinion to yourself. Even if you’re family. ESPECIALLY if you’re family.
• Ladies, wear waterproof mascara, even if you think you won’t need it.
• Wear comfortable clothing. If attending a graveside service, don't wear heels. I've made this mistake. Just trust me; I'm the queen of awkward, and tripping at a funeral is definitely embarrassing.
• If you send flowers, include the name of the person you want to have them afterward. Dividing them up is the first thing the family has to do after the service, and naming the person you're sending to on the card prevents unnecessary bickering at a time when emotions are running high.
• If your name is listed in the obituary, defer to everyone whose name is listed before yours. This greatly reduces the aforementioned emotional bickering.
• If the people whose name is listed before yours in the obituary are being unreasonable and not listening to you, refer to the above statement. Repeat as often as necessary. I promise, the memories of your loved one are the ones you want to hold on to, not the details of their funeral service or the disagreements about dividing up their belongings.
• If your name is not mentioned in the obituary, defer to everyone who is. Always.
• It's OK to laugh. It's OK to be glad to see family members you don't often visit. Enjoy the happy moments, because there will be plenty of unhappy ones too. 
• If you are fortunate enough to be a part of the family lunch hosted by the church, thank those who prepare and serve it. They are honored to host this for you, and your gratitude reminds them what a blessing they are.
• Don't fall victim to comparison. Your relationship with your loved one was not the same as your sister's, or your cousin's, or your uncle's, or anyone else's. You're all hurting. Support one another.
• Wait a week or two after the service and send (or give) a card to someone whose name is listed in the obituary. The first month (or few months) is hard on close family members as life around them goes back to ‘normal’. 
• If you're conflicted about whether or not you should go to the funeral, go. 
• Don't assume that once the funeral is over, the family is fine. As life goes back to 'normal', they are still grieving. If you can do something for a close family member in the months after the death, do it! Take them a meal, plan an outing, take their kids out for ice cream...whatever is appropriate for the relationship you have and the things they appreciate.
• Don't judge. Everyone grieves in different ways, and for different amounts of time. There is no right or wrong way to go on with life after losing someone you love.
• Have a plan. The least stressful funerals for families are the ones that have already been planned and/or paid for. Even if you can't pay for it, make a plan and a will, and make sure your family knows where to find it.

 

Dallas Alic "Shorty" Standridge

Dallas Alic “Shorty” Standridge, 84, went to be with his heavenly father on October 18, 2013. He was born on April 9, 1929 in Ralston, OK. Shorty married the love of his life, Blanche Virginia Beyl, on October 15, 1954, and together they shepherded and loved five children, ten grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. He was ordained a deacon at Gilcrease Baptist Church in Tulsa, OK. Later in life he could be found at the north doors of Olivet Baptist Church every week, greeting all who entered with a smile and handshake. He was blessed to be able to welcome worshipers even after he began to be affected by Alzheimer's, up until about 6 weeks before his death. Shorty extended the love of Jesus to everyone he met and was a wonderful spiritual leader to his family. Everyone who knew him was touched by his warm smile, his sense of humor, and his ornery side. At Christmas, he enjoyed telling the story of his 'penny sucker' each year, and his children and grandchildren never failed to make sure he had a bag of suckers to share with everyone. When he was a child, his father and uncle had only three pennies between the two of them to provide Christmas gifts for their children. Because three of the children were old enough to understand the significance of gifts, the brothers pooled their pennies and purchased one penny sucker for each of the three so that they would not have to go without. Shorty used that experience as a lesson to always be thankful for what you have, even if it is only a 'penny sucker'.

Shorty will be greatly missed by his family and friends. He leaves behind his wife, Virginia, of the home, his children: Ann Brunken, of Maramec, Dee Lancaster and her husband Bobby, of Tulsa, Shorty Wayne Standridge, of Tulsa, Kay Imhoff and her husband Merle of Tulsa, and Meredith Beyl Been and her husband Cory, of Stillwater. He is also survived by his grandchildren: Richard Sanders and Cherie Johnson, of Terlton, Daniel Lancaster, of Tulsa, John Sanders, of Pawnee, Lacie Lancaster and her husband Brady Bonner, of Tulsa, Danielle Imhoff, of Tulsa, Morgan Been, of Stillwater, and KayLynn and Aaron Creager, of Stillwater, as well as three great-grandchildren: Charlene, Samantha, and Cody Johnson, of Terlton, two sisters, Bonnie and Lois Standridge of Mannford, and many friends and extended family members. Shorty was preceded in death by his 

parents, one sister, one brother, and one nephew. He worked for Rockwell International for 26 years and was an active member of the UAW for 50 years.

The family will be at Olivet Baptist Church in Tulsa on Tuesday, October 22, from 1-2pm, to welcome all who would like to share memories or express condolences, and his funeral service will follow graveside at Oak Hill Cemetery in Mannford at 3:30pm. Mannford Funeral Home is handling the arrangements. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to the Alzheimer's Association in Shorty's honor.

Day 3 - ADHD and Fever

I realize it's actually day five, but I missed the last two days (thank you, my thorn in the flesh) and something in my brain just won't let me skip to match the date. Sooooo.....day three it is!
This morning, my amazingly wonderful hubby had to drive KayLynn & Aaron's dad's house to pick up KayLynn. She had texted me several times through the night and early morning to tell me how awful she felt and how sick she was. Now, if this had been EITHER of my other two kids, I would have sympathized but not worried - they both inherited my allergy problems, so congestion, drainage, and even puking are pretty normal for the three of us. KayLynn, however, manged to avoid that gene. I honestly think I could count on one hand the number of times she's been legitimately sick, and since she's 14, that's pretty impressive. When she was little, my best friend Jenn and I used to joke that our ADHD children were the healthiest kids we knew because the germs just couldn't catch them. Seriously. Everyone else in the house could be miserable with the flu, and KayLynn would still be bouncing off the walls, talking, singing, laughing, playing, and getting in to everything. As she's gotten older, that's been VERY helpful, since she can put all that energy to good use helping to take care of the rest of us.

Oddly enough, though, when KayLynn does get sick, it doesn't affect her the same way it would any of us. If she has a fever, she's amazingly normal. Calm, coherent, focused, and she'll even sleep (a little) without medication. The first time she ever had the flu, I knew that she was sick when she remained lying down on the Dr's office waiting room couch for the full ten minutes we waited, then walked calmly back with me. If you have a child with ADHD, you know how remarkable that is! It was such a strange thing to watch - when the ibuprofen/tylenol I gave her brought the fever down, she was just as energetic as ever, despite her body's obvious cues that she needed rest. As the fever rose, she became calmer, more focused, less whiny, and was able to give her body the rest it needed. At that time, her pediatrician told me that fever itself is not bad for her, as long as it's not too high, so he suggested I just keep her well hydrated and resting, and only give her medication to lower the fever if it rose above 101. DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor, nor am I vouching for this advice for everyone. But it did (and still does) work for us. Now that she is older, we let her help set the tone of when to take Tylenol or ibuprofen, and she generally will choose not to take it unless her 'feeling bad' hits a certain threshold. We have learned that she seems to recover from viruses more quickly than the rest of us, as long as she takes a full day or two to actually rest - and sometimes that means letting her remain unmedicated while she's feverish, then ensuring she is properly medicated (with her Concerta and her Clonidine for sleep) after that, to make it possible for us to monitor her activity and make sure she rests. Once the fever is gone, she becomes her usual bouncy self, so the Concerta is vital to allowing us to be successful at getting her to rest. We can get her started on a good book, and anime show, a computer game, or something similar, and then she is more than willing to drink more fluids, eat like she needs to , and REST her body as her brain remains engaged. Sure, one of us needs to stay with her, even though she's old enough to stay alone. If we didn't keep her focused on caring for herself, she'd forget to take medication when she needs it, forget to drink to stay hydrated, forget to eat, and even get distracted and decide to act out a game or start dancing, without remembering that she's sick, until she passes out or suddenly throws up. According to this story in ADDitude magazine, http://www.additudemag.com/adhdblogs/4/5192.html, I am not alone!! And this isn't the only article I found discussing this issue. It seems that fever may, in fact, impact the ADHD brain in a positive way - allowing the ADHD symptoms to subside or decrease while the fever is present. I'm praying for scientific research on this soon - if we can figure out WHY our kids' brains are different when they have a fever, maybe we can find a way to pinpoint a new treatment. How exciting would that be?!?

Day Two - Babies, babies, babies!

We've all heard about birth plans, right? In our medically advanced country, we are encouraged to choose our childbirth style within days of discovering that a fetus is growing in our bellies. Natural childbirth? Scheduled C-Section? VBAC? Epidural? Hospital birth or home birth? Doctor, midwife, doula? Water birth? If you're already a mother, will your kids get to watch? What about your family and friends? Will you film the birth? Take pictures? If it's a boy, will you circumcise him? What about immunizations? Will you breastfeed and for how long? The options are endless. What we don't usually imagine, however, is seeing our newborn baby on oxygen.

Approximately 10% of newborns require assistance to begin breathing at birth. While most infants begin breathing very quickly, a condition called birth asphyxia occurs when a baby's brain and other organs do not get enough oxygen before, during, or right after birth. Birth asphyxia occurs in about four out of every 1,000 full term births, more frequently in preterm births, and can have many causes - umbilical cord problems, the mother's blood pressure, or a very long or difficult delivery, to name a few. Until recently, this would have had no relevance at all when discussing ADHD. In December of 2012, however, a Kaiser Permanente study revealed that birth asphyxia is associated with a 26% greater risk of developing ADHD, regardless of race or ethnicity. This is a HUGE breakthrough for me personally! For years, I've wondered if this had ever been studied. My KayLynn, whose ADHD is severe, had a difficult birth and was on oxygen for about an hour after delivery. From the day she was born, I knew there was something different about her, and she has always been my most demanding, difficult, impulsive, and unpredictable child. She climbed before she walked, rarely slept more than four hours at a time even as a toddler, and never seemed to slow down. She was diagnosed with ADHD a few months before she turned four, which is practically unheard of, and yet no one who knows her would deny that the diagnosis is accurate. While I am sure that her difficult birth is not the cause of her condition, I am also sure that the amount of time her brain was deprived of oxygen did contribute to its severity. No birth plan could have changed that or predicted the crazy wonderfulness that is our life now.
Just like seeing our sweet baby on oxygen is something we don't want to imagine, domestic violence during pregnancy is a sight we wish we could ignore. Unfortunately, one out of every six pregnant women has been a victim of intimate partner violence. Domestic violence is more common than any other health problem among pregnant women, and in many abusive relationships, pregnancy can trigger an increase in violence. As a result, many battered women do not receive adequate prenatal care. These women may be manipulated by their partners into not seeing a doctor, convinced that they don't need or don't deserve appropriate care, too frightened to seek medical attention, or  too ashamed to run the risk of a doctor discovering their situation. Domestic violence is motivated by a need for power and control, and as a result, pregnant women are reluctant to leave their partners out of fear that they will be unable to support themselves and their baby. Even if her abuser refrains from physically injuring her while she is pregnant, the victim is often subjected to financial abuse, deprived of adequate nutrition or basic needs, or berated and emotionally battered on a daily basis. The effects of domestic violence during pregnancy are heartbreaking and can have devastating effects on both mother and baby.  The number one and number two causes of women's death during pregnancy are domestic homicide and suicide (which is often tied to abuse). If you are in an abusive relationship, whether you're pregnant or not, please get help! Leaving is not easy - and neither is sharing a child with someone who has hurt you - but both are healthier and better for you AND your child than staying in a violent relationship. Take it from me, it IS possible to break the cycle and become a survivor instead of a victim!