As I write this my head and my heart don’t want to be here.  I’m at home, but I want to be at the nursing home where my dad now lives out his last days in hospice.  We’ve had a tough autumn, my family and I.  We lost my middle brother suddenly in September, and this December my dad fell ill and we are now at the end of his earthly journey. In the wise words of my good friend Kristin, “you’re doing a lot of hard this Christmas season.”  Yep, lots of hard.

But throughout this hard season I’ve come to notice things, both big and small, that I can only describe as “God winks.”  Good news in a maelstrom of bad.

My late brother and I were estranged, so losing him was just the weirdest experience.  My mom is heartbroken – no parent should EVER have to bury a child, even a grown child.  I had to let him go several years ago so, in reality, he already felt gone to me.  Picking up the pieces after his death and planning his memorial service was almost like an out-of-body experience for me – he was my brother but he’d become someone I simply did not know anymore.  But what came after his death could only be described as God placing people in my life whom I needed to know to better understand my brother. He had friends and “framily” who loved him, and this gives me more comfort than I can describe. What could have been an awful experience turned into meeting some of the best people I’ve ever met, having some of the best conversations I’ve ever had, and seeing a completely different side of the brother I lost years ago. 

Isaiah 30:21 says“Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it.’”  Okay, God, I see what You did there.  I see You, and I hear You.  God Wink #1.

The situation with Dad has been its own kind of hard.   If you know me at all then you know my Dad has advanced Alzheimers/Dementia plus a bad heart.  Mom has been his sole caregiver since we noticed the signs several years ago.  Imagine losing your son, then almost like clockwork your husband seemingly goes on a hunger strike.  The reality of Alzheimers/Dementia patients is that they can be very sick but they don’t know the words to say they’re sick or how to articulate their symptoms.  After weeks of declining vitals and no real answers, Dad was sent to the hospital and then, through a series of unfortunate events, to skilled nursing. One of the very first people we met in the nursing facility is a nurse who is also a full-time caregiver to her spouse, who is disabled.  She is basically a mirror of what mom does on the daily.  The very first thing she says to Mom is “you are his wife, we are his caregivers.  We got him and we won’t let anything happen to him.  You need to rest and take care of YOU so that you can be here with him.”  What are the odds that we meet this nurse at this exact time? No odds necessary. I see what God did there.  God Wink #2.

And so it continues.  The month of December was quite possibly the hardest month of my life, but during that brutal time I noticed lots of things and people God put in my path to send a message.

• The CNA whom my father adores (who loves him right back) and who can get him to eat and go to the dining room to watch a little TV or have some social interaction, who goes above and beyond to keep him looking clean and sharp. A literal angel.
• The nurses who park Dad at the nurse’s station to keep a close eye on him and give him comfort when he’s restless.
• The lady who’s husband is in the room next door to Dad, who grew up down the road from us and whom mom has known most of her adult life, who has become a lifeline to all of us to help us navigate the systems we’ve been thrown into.
• The hospice case manager who also volunteers with the ladies at Collier Park and now has added mom to her “roster” to check on and visit.
• The friends and family who, upon finding out both about my brother and about Dad, have reached out to Mom, Doyle or I to check in, provide comfort, or just be a listening ear.

And finally, the beautiful cashier at Jason’s Deli who remarked to me about how speedy and spry Mom is with her walker, whom I ran into again at the grocery store and she said “You love your Mom.  I can tell.  You’re doing good by her.”  Oh my goodness, she has no idea how much that sentence was needed that day because I’ve questioned my own judgement EVERY  SINGLE DAY since Dad went into this facility.  Watching your parents age is hard, but hospice is the absolute hardest thing any of my family has ever done. Moving to end-of-life, palliative care is the ultimate double-edged sword. I know it’s the right thing, but the finality of it shakes me to my very core. And yet, there is peace.  I feel it all around me daily.

But throughout it all – God.  

When my thoughts waiver – God.  

When I need uplifting – God.  

When Mom needs reassurance – God.  

When we need all the things – God.

“And let it be, when these signs come to you, that you do as the occasion demands; for God is with you.” 1 Samuel 10:7 

Let it be.  Do as the occasion commands.  God is with you.  Look for the God winks.  He is everywhere.