Grandma and the Christmas Rush

Grandma got gypped this Christmas.

Rebeccah and I were with the Wagner side of the family on Christmas day this year. As we opened gifts, I was worried. Worried that my brother wouldn't enjoy his gift, or that other gift surprises would be spoiled before opened. I was worried, but my brothers and sisters are gracious and appreciative. They're the kind of people who put "give money to the poor" on their Christmas lists. They felt blessed just being able to breathe. I think my Grandma did too. But I'm not sure. That's why I think she got gypped.

The Wagners shared some fun times over the week...We talked and shopped and opened presents and sang songs and read the Christmas story and prayed and played soccer and got angry with each other over a game of Settlers of Catan. I helped my dad prepare a property for rent and threw away a whole slew of computer parts from years past (including four Mac Plus computers from the late eighties!) that have been gathering dust.

There's always too much to do, right? I remember a number of times coming into the house and blowing right through the living room, minutes later realizing I hadn't even greeted the woman lying in the recliner silently. I'd return to give her the customary kiss, then explain that I had some important "act of service" or "Christmas gift preparation" I was right in the middle of.

My Grandma turns 97 in just a few weeks. She's pretty feeble, and it appears she can't see or speak all that well. She just sits with all of her limbs propped up with various pillows and looks off into the middle distance. And if we have the good grace to sit in her field of view, she looks at us. She doesn't say much, even when I sit and just ask her how she is.

Sometimes I sit and just give Grandma a few strokes on her arm. But before a minute is up, I give up, and get up, just to go do something more interactive. See, I want to know I'm making an impact. I want to get something for my trouble. I want it to be a two-way street. And I want the response to be interesting. And that's the problem.

Grandma isn't able to do that anymore. And I realized that I'm not really concerned about her. I'm helping her and all these other people because it makes me feel better about myself, more significant, worthwhile.

When I did take a moment just to sit with Grandma just because she matters, I realized that maybe she wanted to communicate a different way...maybe she just couldn't speak or didn't want to. So I asked her to smile if she wanted more water. She smiled. I sat with her a few more minutes, letting her sip water through a straw. But another activity presented itself...another need...and I was off. To care for myself.

This is the challenge of caring for the old. It's also the challenge of caring for those who feel alone and those who are disabled and those who hurt from past abortions or abuse. Caring for these people means I won't get a warm feeling at the end of the encounter. I won't feel like I've successfully changed their circumstances or made them feel better. In many cases, I can't heal them. In my Grandma's case, I couldn't figure out what she needed, beyond a sip of water. For all of these, the best I can do is take time to share their burden for a few minutes or hours. But many times, even if I've spent hours (or many years!), I must leave them in the same state they were in before (at least visibly). And if I really came to the interaction for the feeling of significance I would feel at the end, I am leaving disappointed. I am leaving empty-handed.

My brother Jonathan wasn't going to be home for Christmas. I asked him if he was going to spend the day with friends. He said he was planning to visit the folks at the convalescent home. Just listening and being there. Breathing with them, taking the time to let them communicate in whatever way they can. Letting them know they are significant. Worthwhile.

My mom sits with her mother a lot these days just trying to get her to eat and caring for her needs. At least one person is spending quality time with Grandma, but I'll bet the sight of young people running to and fro doing so many "important" things made Grandma feel a bit ignored this Christmas.

I think Jon had the right idea. I'm hoping to visit Grandma again soon. But this time I'll spend a few more minutes just sitting with her and letting her direct the time on her own terms...with smiles and murmurs...or silently. In those moments, I'll let her teach me how to bear burdens and fulfill the law of Christ (Gal. 6:2). It's not by off-loading the burdens and feeling significant because I've done something important. It's sharing them without taking them over, without calling their successful resolution ours. Many times, it's sharing them for long periods of time. Letting Grandma feel her feelings and work through the unique challenges of growing blind and mute and feeling largely useless and largely ignored. I can help with the ignored feeling, a bit, and maybe that will give a little strength to metabolize the other feelings too.

But even if I can't help, if I can't do anything to make a big difference for her, I think I'll sit with her anyway.

Comments

[Carolyn]

What a sweet story, Steve! You show such insight into the heart of the situation with your grandmother. I learned a lot from reading this--especially about the way we all want to solve things and make them better, often just so we'll feel good. I wondered, too, if your grandma would enjoy being read to? Just a thought...Blessings to you and Rebeccah!!

[Leslie]

Thanks for sharing this. I'm sure your grandmother just loves knowing that you're near her, even if you can't communicate with each other very well. I think I would just want to know that someone was near and loved me.

Thanks again for sharing something so personal. It's good to remind the rest of us to spend time with the poor or elderly or hurt.

[Shane Vander Hart]

Thank you for your transperancy. This is a great reminder for us all.

[marcy]

Dear Steve: I think this is about servanthood. And I think you are quite a servant. Yes, I think those of us who care for the elderly learn this. And I bet your grandma did enjoy being around all of you, even if she weren't the center of attention. I know the older I get, the more I enjoy the young ones.

Many blessings to you! Thanks for taking the time to write this!

[sande duncan]

Hi Steve,
My dad died two years ago. He was 89 years old. He had Alzheimer's, couldn't hear very good and wasn't able to communicate much. When I would visit him there really wasn't much I could do but sit with him, tell him about my day or.... scratch his back. When I would scratch his back, he would be so happy. I would try to scratch his back or gently rub his shoulders and upper arms whenever I was with him. I also would gently comb his hair. My mom is still living at age 89. She is very ill but she also loves to have her hair combed. It seems we all need the human touch. I think the elderly don't get that enough. Maybe your grama would smile if you asked her if she wants a back scratch or her hair combed.

[Eva Dow]

Great reminder Steve. It is at the heart of the Father to love those who can not necessarily demonstrate it back. Thanks for sharing very personal insights. They were a blessing to me.

[Jan]

Thank you for the gentle reminder of the importance of interacting with the elderly. Just being there with a loving touch, a listening ear or simply quiet purpose can make such a difference in their lives...and we learn what is most important in serving them and not ourselves. Your words brought back sweet memories of my grandparents' later years and how much I treasured the times I spent with them.
Best wishes for a wonderful 2008.

[Santiago]

Interesting how such an important ministry is one that doesn't bring much glory to the minister. We can say that we are ministering in the name of the Lord when our ministry brings many accolades, but how the judgment teaching of Christ's that Matthew recounts in chapter 25 doesn't talk about high-profile ministries.