Going to Church

ow that I'm (almost) my sister's guardian, I'm making changes with her visits home. For instance, she can't be here for long periods of time (i.e., more than 30 minutes!) unless I am. That means each time she comes home for the weekend, she comes to church with us on Sunday. Twice.

At first, Sis was so opposed to going to church with us that she refused to come home for weekends when she was told she'd have to go. But then, at Uncle's funeral a few weeks ago, my husband got to spend a couple of hours with her, just the two of them, and he told her all about the Gospel. When she found out that's what our church is about, she suddenly was happy to go.

We were raised in an ELCA Lutheran Church; now, we go to a Reformed Church. Many Reformed churches come from a Dutch background, while the Lutheran heritage is more German and Norwegian, so the hymns Sis and I grew up on are different than the ones we're singing now. The first service this week, I noticed Sis quietly tried to sing along with the hymns, but they were all unfamiliar, and she can't read music. (Her I.Q. is 42--I'm pleased as punch she can read words!) Then, the last hymn was one she knew: O Come, O Come Emmanuel. And she let the whole congregation know she knew it! What a joyful noise to the Lord that was! It was beautiful! She hugged me after the service and told me she loves our church.

Mornings are the toughest time of day for Dad. His head generally hurts worst upon waking, or sometimes it is what wakes him. So, they haven't gone to church with us in the morning. But this week was the second time they came with us to the evening service. I think they had an idea that our religion was a cult or something, because they really avoided going with us for a long time. Mom finds it strange that my husband doesn't like crosses or pictures and statues of Jesus; he finds it strange that she seems to think the Second Commandment doesn't apply. But, they know now that our church is a good one, and this week, I think they were truly blessed by the service.

I know I was. There is nothing like hearing the Law and Gospel preached by a man of God. Amazing!

Low-Sodium Cooking

ad had a new problem a few weeks ago: his feet and ankles were swollen like elephant legs. He went to the doctor, got a 2-week supply of a diuretic, and was told to lower his salt intake and not to eat ham or canned soup.

What had I been serving for lunch every day the previous two weeks? Canned soup and lunch meat sandwiches. Oops.

What did I cook almost every evening meal with? Either canned cream of mushroom soup, dry onion soup mix, or chicken or beef broth/bouillon. I was appalled when I looked at the sodium count on those items! I've been killing Dad!!

So, I went to the store, determined to find some ingredients that I could cook with that wouldn't be horribly high in sodium. Low-sodium cream of mushroom soup: still too much sodium. Low-sodium dry onion soup mix: yeah, um, that one doesn't exist, at least not in the grocery stores in Big Town.

That meant it was time to find new recipes. Google, here I come!

So many recipes call for the canned and boxed items I'd been using that the first step was to find substitutes for those. And I found a wonderful site that has been very helpful in teaching me how to make homemade cream soup, chicken stock, and beef stock, for which I can monitor and control the amount of sodium that goes in. The site is Home Ec 101: Real skill for real people with real lives (what you wish your mama taught you).

From this site, I've learned to make:

• Bechamel sauce--a creamy white sauce that is made from butter, flour, and cream/half and half/milk. You can vary the recipe by adding chicken stock, vegetable stock, or fish stock and adding things like mushrooms to mimic cream of mushroom, cream of celery, cream of shrimp, or cream of chicken soup. I've learned that if you're careful with the re-heating process (heat it on low on the stove from frozen), it doesn't separate, and so it can be made in large batches and frozen.
• Chicken stock--chicken stock takes a lot of cooking time, but not a lot of effort, to make, so I made large batches of it and freeze it in 1 or 2 cup portions.
• Chicken soup--her homemade soup is delicious, and once you've made the chicken stock, very easy and quick to prepare.
• Dumplings--my husband loves chicken and dumplings. He prefers the firmer, almost pasta-like dumplings, and I always made the fluffy, biscuit-like dumplings. I found on the Home Ec 101 site that adding egg is what changes the consistency.

So now, I will be able to post some things about cooking from scratch.

Oh, and Dad's feet and ankles are back to normal! Yay!

Revelation

his week, I've had a revelation for relieving my stress taking care of my parents. I've been playing with them.


Not making fun of them or anything like that. But playing cards. They were big card players in their day, and when I was young, they'd go to someone's house at least a couple times a month to play cards. For many years, Dad hasn't wanted to go places. He's been depressed, but they couldn't find the right combination of meds to help him. Mom doesn't drive, so when Dad stopped going places... her social life almost completely cut off.

I never got into playing cards much as an adult, but my daughter is visiting from college this week, and she loves to play cards with her friends at the dorms. So, she's been teaching me and my son games over the past year, and this visit was no exception. And Mom, in turn, taught her how to play their favorite card game, Whist. (My son had previously learned when my brother was visiting a couple of weeks ago.)

Mom was fascinated watching us play cards Sunday afternoon. She didn't even take a nap! She didn't want to play the games we were playing, but she didn't want to miss out on watching us. So, I suggested we play Whist and let her in on the fun. We've played every day since, and I have been a lot less stressed out this week! My husband has learned to play, too, and let me tell you, he and my dad make a formidable partnership!

I used to work upstairs with Mom and Dad, cooking, cleaning, taking them to appointments, paying bills, and whatever else needed to be done. After our evening meal (is it dinner or supper?), I would immediately go downstairs, to "get away". But I'm finding staying up there for an hour is good for us all.

Sit, Ubu, Sit

ne of the things I don't understand about my mom is that she doesn't like to sit down. Take mealtime, for instance. I do all the cooking; Mom and my son set the table. And when it's time to eat, she won't sit down until I do. She walks from the table to the kitchen, looking for something to do, and finding nothing, she walks back to the table. Repeat til I sit down (at which time, she realizes she didn't fill her water glass, so we wait).

My husband often studies during the night while the rest of us are sleeping, so he has fewer distractions. I get up to help with breakfast every morning, but he rarely sees that ritual. One morning, he did, and he asked if she always does that.

Yes, I nodded. Makes me want to tell her, "Sit, Ubu, sit. Good dog."

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Adventures in Eldersitting--Overnight Travel, Part 2

o, if you read Part 1, you know how things are going. We went 2 hours from home for a funeral, with the plan to stay overnight--and I forgot Mom and Dad's meds. My Husband, the doll that he is, drove all the way home to get them. While he was gone, my cousin ferried us all to her house. When we got there, I asked my son and my cousin's husband to bring in Dad's oxygen machine, because Dad had used all the oxygen in his two portable tanks.

Big mistake.

When Hubby and I loaded the machine into the van, we hoisted it in without removing the tubing that connects the main machine to the secondary machine that fills tanks. When the guys removed it from the SUV at my cousin's house, the tubing got bumped just right, so that the fitting that connected the tubing to the machine broke.

None of the kings horses and none of the kings men (nor any amount of super glue or gorilla glue) could put Humpty together again.

The main oxygen machine still worked, but required that Dad be sitting within 40 feet or so of a plug-in. The cemetery was right behind the church, but not that close. So, now what?

My cousin and I called some friends of theirs who own a welding shop. They thought they might be able to help, so we went over. Unfortunately, the oxygen tanks used in welding don't have the same type of fittings that medical oxygen tanks do; nor did they have any means to fill a tank.

So, I called the hospital in that town. Yes, they had an oxygen tank we could borrow, but they suggested I call his home medical supplier, because Medicare only allows one company to bill for oxygen supplies. When I called the supplier, I was told they couldn't do that, and we'd have to pay for it ourselves. But, we could go to their sister company an hour away to get a replacement part.

We left a little early for the funeral so we could stop at the hospital to get the tank. We paid a $25 rental fee, and left a $100 deposit to ensure we'd bring it back. We all cried through the funeral and the interment. Then, after we ate with the family, I said goodbye to my Husband again as he drove the hour to the sister home medical supply company. They lent him a tank to get Dad home, we returned the rented tank to the hospital, and all was well.

Interestingly, the hospital sent back Mom and Dad's $25 check. That was pretty sweet of them.

Repetition

t's funny listening to Mom and Dad talk to each other sometimes. Neither of them can hear very well. Dad's voice has changed so much that the gruffness makes it hard to understand. And Mom always thinks she's talking louder than she actually is.

One day, I heard them discussing a magazine.

Mom: Do you want this?

Dad: No, but the grandson (speaking of my son) might.

Mom: What did you say?

Dad: The grandson might.

Mom (looking around quizzically): I still can't understand what you're saying.

So, I step in to try and help.

Me: He said "The grandson might."

Mom: I can't understand you either.

Me (after trying a couple more times, then gesturing to myself): My son... He might like it.

Mom: Oh, yes, OK.


Then this morning, they were talking about going out to eat at a restaurant that gives Veterans a free meal on Veteran's Day. My husband and I aren't going to be home that day, so I suggested Dad might want to take Mom out for a meal. I asked if they were planning to take my son with them for dinner or go at lunch time while he's in school. First, Dad corrected me, saying that he'd be eating dinner while my son is in school, but they could take him along for supper (welcome to Rural America). Then Mom joked and said, "We'll take him with us for supper and make him watch us eat."

Dad didn't hear her. So, I got to watch the exchange again.

Finally Dad heard what she said. Then, he quipped, "That's when he'd grow a long arm." He knows my son well. :)

Happy Veteran's Day, and to all who have served or are serving our country, many, many thanks!