We recently visited my parents in Iowa. They are both dealing with varying degrees of Alzheimer’s. However, outside of the common old-age ailments, both are in great health. We took them in wheelchairs out to the patio of the care center where they now live. It’s hard to carry on an in-depth conversation with them now. Dad says he just doesn’t remember…and Mom can’t quite put a sentence together properly.
So we chatted about non-essential things while I filed their fingernails and patted their soft faces. I told them about their grandchildren and great-grandchildren they don’t get to see very often. Of course, they can’t remember who all I’m talking about, except that they are proud to have so many offspring. The important thing was we were together.
One of the things we do like to talk about is Jesus. That subject always brings smiles. And in the midst of their muddled minds, the awareness of His soon coming is topmost.
I remember them telling me in my growing up years how they had heard the Orson Welles’ tale on the radio that crazy day when people believed his drama to be an actual news report that the world was being attacked by aliens. They, too, were taken in by the report, but were not panicked by fear. Instead, they ran outside, and looking toward the skies, checked to see if Jesus was on the clouds, coming back as He promised…
Another time Mom and Dad told of a wonderfully awesome display of the Northern Lights (aurora borealis). It was so spectacular that they scanned the skies for Jesus.
They still live in that expectation even now, at ages 90 and 88. They are looking for Jesus to come back any moment. It’s an exciting thought, filling them with hope.
Early in my life I learned the passage of scripture that has been alive in my heart ever since: I Thessalonians 4:16-18, “For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words.”
The last words of that passage, “wherefore comfort one another with these words,” just explain it. My wonderful parents, even in this time of foggy memories, clearly remember the promises of the Word of God. And it brings comfort to them just talking about it.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
70 Years of Marriage
Last week we helped my parents celebrate 70 years of marriage. Wow. 70 years.
It wasn’t like all the other times we celebrated. This year it was different.
Last October, my mother fell and broke her hip. She ended up in a rehab center in West Des Moines, Iowa. A few weeks later, my dad was moved to USA healthcare Center in Urbandale, Iowa. He has Alzheimer’s. She suffers from a form of dementia.
The red tap slowing the process of putting them in the same facility was unbelievable. Although there was an empty bed in dad’s room that his center was holding for mom, nothing was happening to expedite the process. Finally, after several months of effort, my brothers contacted the local newspaper and told them the story. Staff writer, Tom Alex, wrote a report that touched the hearts of so many Iowans that state Senator Charles Grassley stepped up. Within the space of about 30 minutes, the “red tape” was unraveled and my parents were given the go ahead to be in the same care center.
Even a local TV news story was videoed and run on the 10pm news.
The news article and TV coverage alerted people who had known my parents for many years and they came to visit. The family had a party with cake and ice cream and lots of noise in one of the social rooms at the care center. As they sat side-by-side in their wheel chairs, mom held dad’s hand and sang “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” I know we wore them out because dad fell asleep while she sang it. Maybe he thought it was a lullaby.
Next day a fancy restaurant where one of the grandchildren works as a chef gave them a free meal. Then supper was free at Ryan’s. Ryan’s knows them from their many years of eating there on Sunday after church. So the “specials” signboard gave them a greeting, “Happy 70th Anniversary Vera Mae and Harry Bougher” (to which dad said, “that’s nice.”) and then in the party room there was a dozen red roses (mom really liked that) and the baker brought in a yummy valentine-shaped cake he had made and decorated for them. The manager and the baker had us take photos of them with the folks.
Someone pulled out a video camera as we shared some warm and some crazy events of the past while we fed ourselves. Twenty-five members of the family were there that night. If you know the Boughers, you know we were not quiet.
When we asked mom to sing again, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” was at the top of the list. I went and knelt between them as she sang (kind of helping her remember the words) and asked if the two of them would sing one of their old duets that I grew up hearing them sing. Dad hasn’t sung for many years now as he really has little voice left. But as mom began, he joined in and although in a very soft voice, he didn’t miss a beat.
I cried.
And to top it off, she sang the song that she was singing when dad first laid eyes on her and announced to his pal “I want a date with her. I think I’d like to marry her.” She was singing in a Kathryn Kuhlman meeting at the “Old Princess Theater” in downtown Des Moines, “Homesick for Heaven.”
This time he didn’t go to sleep as she sang. He just smiled at her.
They were worn out when the brothers took them home. Home to the care center where they can eat together and hold hands whenever they want.
Seventy years. He’s 90, she’s 87.
They have served God, raised us four kids, been blessed with 13 grands and 28 greats. They ministered in song in church, on street corners, at old folks homes, at weddings and funerals. They helped old people and blessed needy folks. I can’t tell you how many people they have led to the Lord. They have lived Godly lives.
They are true examples of servants of the King.
And I thank God for my awesome parents.
It wasn’t like all the other times we celebrated. This year it was different.
Last October, my mother fell and broke her hip. She ended up in a rehab center in West Des Moines, Iowa. A few weeks later, my dad was moved to USA healthcare Center in Urbandale, Iowa. He has Alzheimer’s. She suffers from a form of dementia.
The red tap slowing the process of putting them in the same facility was unbelievable. Although there was an empty bed in dad’s room that his center was holding for mom, nothing was happening to expedite the process. Finally, after several months of effort, my brothers contacted the local newspaper and told them the story. Staff writer, Tom Alex, wrote a report that touched the hearts of so many Iowans that state Senator Charles Grassley stepped up. Within the space of about 30 minutes, the “red tape” was unraveled and my parents were given the go ahead to be in the same care center.
Even a local TV news story was videoed and run on the 10pm news.
The news article and TV coverage alerted people who had known my parents for many years and they came to visit. The family had a party with cake and ice cream and lots of noise in one of the social rooms at the care center. As they sat side-by-side in their wheel chairs, mom held dad’s hand and sang “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” I know we wore them out because dad fell asleep while she sang it. Maybe he thought it was a lullaby.
Next day a fancy restaurant where one of the grandchildren works as a chef gave them a free meal. Then supper was free at Ryan’s. Ryan’s knows them from their many years of eating there on Sunday after church. So the “specials” signboard gave them a greeting, “Happy 70th Anniversary Vera Mae and Harry Bougher” (to which dad said, “that’s nice.”) and then in the party room there was a dozen red roses (mom really liked that) and the baker brought in a yummy valentine-shaped cake he had made and decorated for them. The manager and the baker had us take photos of them with the folks.
Someone pulled out a video camera as we shared some warm and some crazy events of the past while we fed ourselves. Twenty-five members of the family were there that night. If you know the Boughers, you know we were not quiet.
When we asked mom to sing again, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” was at the top of the list. I went and knelt between them as she sang (kind of helping her remember the words) and asked if the two of them would sing one of their old duets that I grew up hearing them sing. Dad hasn’t sung for many years now as he really has little voice left. But as mom began, he joined in and although in a very soft voice, he didn’t miss a beat.
I cried.
And to top it off, she sang the song that she was singing when dad first laid eyes on her and announced to his pal “I want a date with her. I think I’d like to marry her.” She was singing in a Kathryn Kuhlman meeting at the “Old Princess Theater” in downtown Des Moines, “Homesick for Heaven.”
This time he didn’t go to sleep as she sang. He just smiled at her.
They were worn out when the brothers took them home. Home to the care center where they can eat together and hold hands whenever they want.
Seventy years. He’s 90, she’s 87.
They have served God, raised us four kids, been blessed with 13 grands and 28 greats. They ministered in song in church, on street corners, at old folks homes, at weddings and funerals. They helped old people and blessed needy folks. I can’t tell you how many people they have led to the Lord. They have lived Godly lives.
They are true examples of servants of the King.
And I thank God for my awesome parents.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Kayla's Dress
Susan just called from Swaziland, Africa.
She had a proud mother’s tear in her voice.
And Jean cried as she heard what our granddaughter Kayla had just done.
Earlier today Susan had been called to the clinic to minister to a young mother of two girls—both infected with AIDS. The 10 year-old sister died.
The family is poor, didn’t even have a decent dress to bury the precious child in.
Susan went home to get one of Kayla’s dresses for the burial.
“Kayla, do you have a dress you’d like to give for the girl to wear?”
“Yes, Oh yes, Mommy!”
Kayla went to her closet and took out her favorite and most expensive dress, as well as a fancy bow for the younger sister to wear to the funeral.
The rest of the story? A few months ago some dear friends, Frank and Julie, that own a children’s clothing shop in Baton Rouge had taken the best little dresses off their shelves and given them to Kayla. And now their gift has given again.
And we think the gift will keep on giving Kayla the warm joy of knowing she did a right thing.
It really is more blessed to give...
She had a proud mother’s tear in her voice.
And Jean cried as she heard what our granddaughter Kayla had just done.
Earlier today Susan had been called to the clinic to minister to a young mother of two girls—both infected with AIDS. The 10 year-old sister died.
The family is poor, didn’t even have a decent dress to bury the precious child in.
Susan went home to get one of Kayla’s dresses for the burial.
“Kayla, do you have a dress you’d like to give for the girl to wear?”
“Yes, Oh yes, Mommy!”
Kayla went to her closet and took out her favorite and most expensive dress, as well as a fancy bow for the younger sister to wear to the funeral.
The rest of the story? A few months ago some dear friends, Frank and Julie, that own a children’s clothing shop in Baton Rouge had taken the best little dresses off their shelves and given them to Kayla. And now their gift has given again.
And we think the gift will keep on giving Kayla the warm joy of knowing she did a right thing.
It really is more blessed to give...
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