day twenty-eight: sweet

I haven't been very sweet lately. I've snapped at Suzy, avoided people, and haven't been very kind in general. I get this way when I get stressed, busy, tired, etc. I get so focused on getting everything done - including our projects for this blog - that I forget to relax...and I forget to be kind to those I care about.

Today was a good reminder. I took some sugar-free candy to homebound church members in nursing homes. I went to see Frances, who is a lively lady recovering from a fall and extended illness; Jody, who can barely speak apart from a few grunts or moans; Mary, who can't hear it thunder; Florence, who often doesn't know where she is; Charles, who thinks he is a college administrator who travels the country; Ethel, a precious little old lady who is always so kind and thankful; and Diane, who usually doesn't know who I am.

In each case, I offered some sweet treats: chocolate, hard candies, butterscotch. But nobody wanted any! At best, I got a disinterested shrug and an acquiescent, "OK. I'll take some." None of them really cared about the candy.

What they did care about was the visit. Each of them was so pleased to have a visitor, and to spend just a few moments chatting. I was thinking that the candy would be a good way to show them I cared. But just showing up meant more to them than any gift I could have brought. And they all kept saying something along the lines of, "You are so sweet to come."

I guess today's culinary care didn't depend as much on the "culinary" part, as long as the "caring" was there. And even though I wasn't feeling all that sweet, it's hard not to be with these senior adults.

day nine: home-bound

Today, Suzy made a casserole (recipe below) for a homebound member of our church, Hubert. She was in the kitchen for over 4 hours, the baby strapped to her, dancing and playing with him as she stirred and chopped. She cooked two meals for Hubert (one to have tonight and one to freeze) as well as our own dinner.  Suzy works constantly to be a great stay-at-home mom, and much of what she does is for me.

JoAnn's Chicken Casserole
16 oz. French style green beans
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can water chesnuts, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 box Uncle Ben's wild rice, cooked according to instructions on box
Meat of 1 rotisserie chicken, pulled
1/2 C. mayonnaise
1 small jar pimentos
3-4 celery stalks, chopped 

Mix all together and put into oven-safe casserole dish. 

(Suzy added a topping, too: Melt one stick of butter. Crush about one sleeve of Ritz crackers and mix with the butter. Put the cracker/butter mixture on top of the casserole.) 

Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

The casserole, with some Sister Schubert rolls.

En route in the car.
Suzy's Grammy makes these casserole carriers in all different patterns. If you want one, let us know!

But as much as I adore Suzy for all that she does and all that she is, Hubert's devotion to his wife puts my love for Suzy to shame.

Hubert's wife passed away about 5 years ago after a long bout with Alzheimer's, during which he took care of her in their home - the home to which he is now confined, a home that he doesn't want to leave. And even though she's gone and has been gone for half a decade, his love for her is still very real. When he speaks of her, his eyes wet with tears and his verbs move back and forth between the past and present tense, calling her into the present only to lose her to the past once again. Almost 62 years of marriage can do that to a person.

Every time I visit Hubert, I'm both inspired and disheartened. I believe in love all over again. The devotion and adoration Hubert still has for his wife is pure and beautiful. He has her so close to his heart that when I walk into his house, I almost expect to see her in the home she loved, sitting in her favorite chair.

We all want to love someone the way Hubert does...but if we did, the pain of losing that person would be crippling. And, for Hubert, it almost is. He is heartbroken. His warmth and kindness are still evident, but there is an emptiness that permeates who he is.

Hubert in his home, sitting in his wife's favorite chair.
He's puppy-sitting a dog some friends rescued while they are on their honeymoon.

This little guy was very excited...

...but he calmed down for a little belly rub.

Sadly, all I can offer Hubert is a home cooked meal in the home to which he is bound.

I always hate to leave Hubert (although this time it was a little easier since he had the company of a cute puppy). He is so lonely, and I know when I walk out of the door he'll be alone again. But not really...

As I left his home and drove back to my own, I realized that Suzy is not just another person...she is a part of me. We are bound together by an invisible but indivisible bond.

And the same is true with Hubert and his wife. She might not be in her favorite chair anymore, but she is at home - with God, yes...but also with Hubert, within his heart.