7D

God, I was not ready for that news. I have known it in my heart for a long time but to hear it said out loud was crushing. Mom has been evaluated by hospice and declared a level 7d of Alzheimer's. This is out of stages 1-7, levels a-e. There is only one level to go. Is it bad for me to pray she never gets there? Is it wrong to hope that before the level where she is all but a vegetable, she will find herself safe in the arms of Jesus, free of pain, healed? That is what I want for her-relief and release. She still knows us, can still smile, can still communicate a bit. I can't imagine more of her being gone. Please, no more levels.

Remember

I had another dream about you last night, mom. I am trying to get it down here as quickly as I can before I forget. We were at your "place", out back, on a deck, overlooking a pretty river/pond. I asked why you and dad never came out there. You did not answer me. You were alert, talkative, upright, dressed nicely-we were having a nice conversation. You said something sad, can't remember what. I told you there would not be days like that in heaven and that you only had a little time to wait. You hugged me. We stood there and were friends again-communicative ones. It was great. Then I switched gears to a space dream as I often do. I bet Freud would have a good time with that. I was backstage of some play creating huge sun fireballs-it was so unrealistic but so real at the same time-just like you being whole. I thank God that I can still interract with you lucidly in my dreams. It is a sweet gift, mom, and someday in heaven-there will not be dreams. It will all be real. I love you.

Faith, not sight

When we walk by faith, it means we live and act like God is real. He is there and will keep His promises, provide, come through, act, answer our prayers, even if we don't see it or experience it-especially if we don't see it. Faith, not sight. So I give money I don't have in my bank account. Dumb? Or faith? I go minister to someone when I am barely holding it together, trusting the Holy Spirit to give me the words I just cannot come up with on my own. Lack of preparation? Or faith? I send my daughter into a hostile country, with deathly transportation, to live in a village with disease-in a very disease-ridden household, in the middle of nowhere-but God is there. Foolishness? Or faith? If faith is the conviction of things not seen, why do we always have to see first, then act? Why don't we jump off the cliff more often, fully expecting God to catch us? What would life look like if we did? Dang exciting!!! THEN we would "see" God-in His full glorious action-AFTER we leap-THEN we see!!!! Like Frances Chan said "we live in such a way that even if God does not come through, everything will work out." NO!!!!! The ONLY way for it to work out is if God comes through. If He does not, we have not risked-and that is sight, not faith. God, enable me to live this way. Grant me opportunities day by day to jump off the cliff. And yes, I am aware of what I am asking. I am asking for a scary life-in the world's eyes-I am asking for uncomfortable situations and the anticipation of things I cannot see, and uncertainty in everything this world is about but You ARE certainty-I AM. You are able to keep me from falling, to present me blameless, to meet all my needs, to fill me up, strengthen me, cause me to stand, uphold me, bless me, keep me,hold me up by your hand, pour love into me so I have some to give to others, keep Your promises, prove my trust. Give me a heart of risk-to not demand to "see"-to not live as if I can possibly plan it all out and have it all fall into place apart from You.

ATX forever

Back to Austin for about the 20th time at least since we moved over a year ago. As we wind our way around 71, I get that same old longing deep in the pit of my stomach-a longing for home: the cedar smell, the brown slowly turning to green, the limestone appearing. Then we hit Lakeway and it all comes back to me: the views, the beauty, the food, the folks, the fun, our life. I have to remind myself that my life is "hidden with Christ in God" and not in Austin, Tx. It is hard. I love this place so much-it is so much a part of me and me of it. It resonates with me in so so many ways unlike any other place I have lived. We enter Steiner and it always gets quiet. Home, but not home anymore. Part of my heart is still here but not as much. So many memories leap out at me from behind trees, cul-de-sacs, bends in the road, houses of people we know, trails we walked, places we biked and swam and had coffee and wine and ice cream. Memories of our sweet life here-thank you, God-our life of growing up and innocence, like Christina said-before all of "it" happened. I drive around town like I still own it-know all the back roads by heart-take my friend down my favorite street, Rosedale, where all the storybook houses are-where I lived so much of my life for so many years-yeah, I know this place: Pacha, Austin School of Classical Ballet, Feats of Clay, Phoenician Bakery, Half Price, Upper Crust. Upper Crust. I walk in, smell the coffee/bread/cinnamon combination and my eyes flood with tears. Will I always long for this? SO many memories: laughing with my girls-making people stare at us, devouring cupcakes before ballet, spring rolls with my sis and my niece and nephews, meeting friends over coffee, people watching, tortilla and lentil soup with Rachel before ballet, doing school with both girls. A homeless man with huge plastic sacks of cans rides up on his bike: yes! Typical Austin-I love and miss my homeless friends so much. Knew so many of them by name. On to Central Market-I walk into the produce section and want to just do a happy dance all over the place: so many varieties of fruits and vegetables. My peeps-healthy, hippy, Austinites all over the place. I smell the apples-used to smell them all-every species. I hand pick my strawberries and text Rachel that I am in this place we know and love so well. She texts me back to shut up because she craves it! Down the bulk isles-remembering how I used to love choosing treats to take home to the fam on a Friday night-I would drop Rachel at ballet, go to CM and pick up yummy dinner and treats and go home for family movie night. One of the best memories in my head. The last time we passed our house, Rachel said "mom, I would just give anything to go in there and watch a movie all together like we used to on Friday nights." Me, too. I drive down the drag-look at all the funkyness and realize why I feel so out of place where I am. I am funky. I am weird. I love uniqueness and strangeness and distinctiveness and my lovely city has all that. I remember the Continental with Cindy, playing ping pong and laughing so hard-and the Snack Bar and Matt's (membah?). Ate at Torchy's Tacos this time-a new place. Items on the menu like fried avocado tacos, Trashy Trailor and Nookies-creative. I love that. Driving out of town, on our way home. We stop to drive around the lake-by our favorite 2 mil. dollar houses-the lake has all but disappeared and I stand and stare. So many memories there,too. Our boat, Oasis, drives around the lake-Christina and I with the windows down, hands out, bellowing out praise music-watching the sunset. I think Rachel was away at camp for the first time and we were lonely. We take a few pics for posterity then head off over Mansfield Dam. I said "Christina, I have 2 memories of that dam and I bet you have the same 2". Yep, she did. Back through Lakeway and onto 71 again. We are quiet. My heart is heavy. Christina falls asleep and I try to blink back the tears at leaving.