Happy birthday, Sarah Jane

Sarah Jane. My eldest child. My first daughter. My wonderful daughter. Born 32 years ago Monday. How in the WORLD can she be 32 YEARS old? Aren't I only 32 years old? It's weired. It's surreal. But, it is real.

When I learned I was expecting a baby, I was tha-rilled. I hoped so hard that it would be a girl. I can't figure out why, except that I never had a sister and always wanted one, so I guess I thought a girl baby would be the closest thing. And, it turned out to be so. Of course, this was in the days before ultrasound was a common thing and we got to wait and be surprised. Consequently there was a lot of yellow and green baby gifts given before babies arrived in those days. But, I digress.

One day, when Howard and I were talking about names, (I still remember where this conversation happened. On our front porch steps of our house), he told me if we had a girl, he wanted to name her after his grandmother, who had died a couple of years before we got married. I thought, "oh, that is so sweet"! Just one more reason for me to love a man who was so thoughtful. "What was her name, honey"? "Sarah Jane". "Sarah JANE?!" I immediately flashed back to being 12 and remembering a girl I went to school with who's name was Sarah JANE. I. Did. Not. Like. Her. She was mean and unkind to me. So, asking me to name a child of mine Sarah JANE was not something I was crazy about. So, I (diplomatically, I thought) said, "How about Sarah, but not Sarah Jane"? I thought that would satisfy both sides. Giving Grandma Catlin the honor of naming a child after her, but not making me have to remember the mean girl every time I spoke her name. But, no. It would be Sarah Jane or nothing at all. Later, as I saw the family group sheets and pedigree charts, I realized how common Jane is in the family. I got over it. Sarah Jane came. And I'm so glad. Now, I can't imagine her named anything else. Janer, for a nickname her dad sometimes calls her. She's the best.

Sarah has many of the characteristics of the classic first born. She is very much a leader. She is uber-responsible, thanks in no small part to undoubtedly an unfair amount of responsibility dumped on her by her mom and dad to help with the younger siblings. She is SO organized. She loves to organize. It's a talent. A gift. A compulsion, maybe? But, how can you not love that about someone. I WISH it was a talent/gift I had. She got that from her dad, as did her sister Erin and brother Nathan. It skipped David and I'm not sure yet about Michael. Again, I digress.

She is smart. She loves (again, like her dad) English. She majored in it in high school. She is well read. I don't know how, with 5 kids how/when/where she finds the ability to read like she does. She's pretty. She's crafty. She's a talker (she might have gotten that from me). She's a good cook, I think. Not a baker, Erin got those genes, but she makes good meals. She is funny. But, then, most of our family is funny. If you don't believe that, just ask us...we crack ourselves up sometimes. I'm sure many others don't quite appreciate how funny we think we are!

She's a teacher. Naturally. College trained, yes, but a natural teacher. She's a good mom. A mom who stresses that she's NOT, and that she's screwing up her kids because she has imperfect days. She tries really hard and takes her motherhood very seriously. She loved teaching. She set it on the back burner while she took on a more important job...raising children. And, I think she's doing a pretty good job at it. Tyler gets some credit for that, too, by the way.

She's kind. She's thoughtful(again, a Howard thing). She's generous. She has a pretty well defined sense of right and wrong. But, she isn't judgemental. She has a strong testimony of Christ.

I guess the gush fest should end now. I can't help it. I'm unbelievebly well pleased in the person she has become and continues to become. I'm one of those people in this world who happens to believe that family members are put together for reasons and that one day we'll know what those reasons are. Maybe not in this life, but one day. I still haven't quite figured out why I am the mom and my kids are the kids in this mix. Some days I feel like Sarah should have been the mom. She seems so far ahead of me in so many ways. I have learned so much from her. It's like she should have been the mom to ME.




Happy birthday, Sarah. I love you.

Wow!

I'm home. And, man, there IS no place like it. I don't think I've ever been so glad to see my own house before in my life.

Let me tell you what happened. (Because I know you're all just dying to know!):)

I arrived in MI on Thursday afternoon. Took A.S. to dinner. Didn't say anything. While I had her at dinner, U.D.'s son and daughter-in-law arrived and took U.D. to dinner. Returned to their apartment and visited. Planned to tell on Friday.

Friday AM, I spoke to the social worker with the Commission on Ageing and she agreed to meet me at 10:00. I had an appointment at 1:30 to take A.S. to look at an assisted living center. The social worker was lining up another one at a different place. I got there about 10:05. She was already discussing it with her. U.D.'s son and daughter-in-law arrived. Somehow, someone, finally got around to letting it be known that U.D. had made plans to move out into a smaller apartment (alone!) and she would need to be going to A.L. Well...she wasn't having any of it. She was angry (understandably, I think), but irrational. Refused to go anywhere, in spite of the fact that she knew notice had been given for them to move out by June 1 (3 days away). She just said she wouldn't go and that was supposed to be that. It was heated. The social worker called the place she was trying to get placement for her at and they heard the ranting and raving and swearing and they said, "no, thanks". Eventually, U.D.'s son, Jerry, his wife, Liz and I left with U.D. and went to the doctor's office to pick up a letter that stated she is unable to care for heself. We returned to the apartment and met with the manager. While talking to him, A.S. was seen opening the garage, opening her car and gave every appearance that she was about to drive off.

Jerry ran over to her and hopped in the car and a heated argument ensued. Liz and I went over, too, but stayed pretty much out of the fray. She shouldn't drive. Ever. She doesn't think that's so. Realizing our hands were tied because she NEEDED to be placed in an assisted living facility, but with her refusing (or being unable) to understand, I felt I had no choice but to call the police. They came (they were familiar with her; they had been called before). After talking to her, they called the paramedics. She was taken away by the men in the white coats, literally. She was upset. That's an understatement. She was taken to the hospital and transferred to another hospital for a psychiatric evaluation. She's still there, but is supposed to be discharged on Monday.

At the hospital she said that she thought it was 2004. Dementia. She was pretty upset in the ambulance, I guess, because they gave her Haldol. Strong stuff. By the time she got to the psych ward, she was so relaxed, she signed herself in. But, because of the circumstances, she was unable to sign herself out.

So, while she was safe and secure, we proceeded to pack and move U.D. on Saturday and Sunday. On Sunday, we got a curve thrown at us because U.D.'s other daughter-in-law, who seldom even visits her, told her husband U.D.'s son that she would call the police if we proceeded with moving A.S.'s things because she said we were making her homeless. Of course, we had ever intention of finding a place for her, once we had the hospital's recommendation as to what level of care she needed. It was a DRAMATIC day, to say the least, but we got through it. She never called anyone, as far as I know.

But, with her stirring things up, all the things I intended to dispose of, (15 bras, probably only 2 or 3 that still fit, 20 pairs of shoes, only 3 of which she ever wears, 13 slips, umpteen pair of panty hose and upteen more pair of knee highs, untold # of nightgowns and slippers, and on and on and on and on...)I decided to keep and just put in storage along with her furniture we were keeping until we were able to know where she would be placed.

So, originally, the plan was for me to come home on Tuesday. Here's where the story gets more interesting...

On Friday AM, right before I went to the apartment to meet them and the lady from the Commission on Ageing, I got a call from my brother. My sister-in-law, Pam, had had some sort of attack and was enroute by ambulance to the hospital. They live in Louisville, KY. Gary said it didn't look good. And it wasn't. It was determined later in the weekend that she had a pulmonary embolism and she had suffered a massive assault to the brain. On Monday AM at 3:57, Pam died.

I diverted my return plans and went to KY on Tuesday and was with my brother and nephew until yesterday, when I came home. Pam's brother and wife from MD and sister and husband from MI and daughter she had given up for adoption at birth from FL all had arrived by Tuesday. A private viewing was held and we all visited and said our goodbyes.

So, there it is. The whole long weekend in a nutshell.

Without a doubt, Friday til Tuesday, were the most stressful, sad, emotional 4 days of my life. However, they were testimony building ones. I had prayed and prayed that I would be guided and led to know what needed to be done. Truly, that happened. I had no intention of calling the police, but it seemed very clear to me, at that moment, that that is exactly what I needed to do. In retrospect it must have been. The hospital says she needs to be not just in an Assisted Living facility, but a memory care facility. I never imagined that. I thought Assisted Living would do. When I got the call from my brother, I just prayed over and over, like a mantra, "make me equal to the task that lies before me this day". And, I guess He did. I got through it. I wanted so much to drop everything and run to my brother's side. But, he understood why I couldn't, until Monday or Tuesday. I could NOT have done this alone, and with Jerry & Liz helping, it all came together. A.S. isn't the only one who has issues. I think it's not going to be very long before U.D. will need to be assisted, but for now, I think he's ok where he is. The people we worked with, from apartment manager to social workers to nurses were all very kind and understanding. I stayed a few nights with Howard's sweet, SWEET aunt Ora, who was a steadying, Gospel filled influence when I so very much needed it. Tender mercies were delivered in a myriad of ways, from assistance to me at the airport to a very understanding apartment manager.

I didn't know when I left HOW this would all work out, but I knew it WOULD. And it did. I'm grateful to know that she'll be taken care of. I'm sorry it's going to cost such an unbelievable amount of $$ to do that ($3500/mo). I pray for my Uncle Dick, who has been pretty overwhelmed by all of this. I pray, too, for Aunt Shirley, to be able to come to a level of acceptance and understanding about what needs to be. And, I pray for my brother and nephew to be strenghtened and comforted at the loss of their wife and mother. While they know Pam has gone to a place where she is free of suffering (she had been sick for a very long time) nonetheless, it will be hard for them as they try to piece their life together without her. I am so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father that doesn't always give us what we want, but gives us what we need when we need it the most.