The day we returned home from Arkansas, the Lord moved mountains for me. The family Papa stayed with while we were gone confirmed he had digressed beyond our level of care.
There was a fairly new assisted living facility in our town that we checked on before bringing Papa to our house. At that time it was full, with a waiting list.
Now desperate, we called again. The moment my mom called the lady on the other end said, “Well actually we have a room available right now. If you want it, I’ll write your name down and hold it for you.”
We pulled in our driveway at 4:00 p.m. on a Monday, and by 4:15, I was in the office signing the papers. I didn’t want anything to happen to that room.
That night – the last night my Papa stayed with us – was awful. I don’t know if you’ve ever moved a severely dementia patient from one house to the next, but they feel like their whole world has been shook up. Nothing is in it’s place and they suspect all involved!
The next morning I made an appointment with his PCP for the needed evaluation before going to the assisted living place. We got there at 8:00, plead our case for him to be referred and sat in the waiting room for various tests the doctor scheduled.
A sweet friend joined me that day and I consider Pastor Craig an angel in disguise. I don’t know if I would’ve made it without him. He kept my mind on things other than my situation and the mountain that stood before me.
Sitting with Papa in that waiting room felt like the old days of taking my toddlers to the pediatrician. I lost count of how many questions I answered, many of them the same ones. “Why are we here?” “What do they need?” “Can I drive back home?”
The bottom line was, I wanted to sleep soundly that night, and my kids did too. I didn’t want to be pushy, but if it was possible, I wanted Papa in that assisted living place tonight!
It was 3:00 before I made it to the facility with all the required paperwork. I remember the lady looking at me and asking, “Well, when do you want to move him in?”
I said a quick arrow prayer and said, “Well, it’s up to you. We’re ready whenever.”
She said, “Well so are we. You decide!”
I cleared my throat, not wanting to sound desperate and then began, “My husband is actually off today. Would there be anyway we could do it…say…NOW?”
She thought for a minute and looked at the time.
“You mean you can move in all his stuff tonight?”
“Yes ma’am. He only has a few things.”
She said, “Why don’t you move his stuff in tonight and then move him in tomorrow.”
I thought that was fair, but then realized, if I move all his stuff here, then he’ll have nothing to sleep on tonight!
When I conveyed this, she reluctantly agreed and said she’d have the cook prepare his plate for dinner!
So I went home and loaded up Adam’s truck and we moved my Papa in that very day. God truly moved a mountain for me – us!
I sat with Papa at dinner and tried to explain the situation. Things had moved so fast, I hadn’t told him he was moving. If it wasn’t happening today there was no point in saying anything, but then all of a sudden I felt bad for not preparing him better.
When dinner was over, I gave him a hug, told him I love you and that I would see him in the morning.
It took several days for me to recover from the emotions and activity from that day. Just as I knew he was to come live with us, I knew this was also best and also hadn’t caught God off guard. Look how he paved a way for us through the sea! We snagged a room when they were previously booked up with a waiting list, and we got moved in as an emergency admittance.
That night I hugged my kids. I ate dinner. I cried. This life just didn’t feel like mine anymore, but I knew God was with me. He promised He would strengthen me. For now, I had to wait on that strength. I hoped it would come.
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This post is apart of a series called 31 stories of hope for every homeschooler. To see the whole series, click HERE.