Home

I've been thinking a lot about "home" recently because I just went home to Bellingham and then I returned home to New Zealand. They both felt like home to me, so I guess in that way I'm pretty lucky - I have 2 homes!

First about my American home:
I spent 2 weeks at my parents' house in Bellingham, Washington, a nice little town of 50,000 on the water near the Canadian border. It was a great town to grow up in, and a wonderful place to raise our 4 sons. It was nice to see the old familiar locations and to remark at all the new developments. We moved away 5 years ago, so obviously things had changed plenty. But overall, I'd still recommend it as a good place to live and I have heaps of happy memories of "home."

Sadly, my dad's health is not very good. He had a stroke July 1 and the right side of his face is droopy. He can still talk and eat but it's not as easy. The stroke has affected his balance too, so he is using a wheelchair when he's up, which isn't often. He sleeps about 20-22 hours every day. With help from my mom, he can get himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed, then he can stand up (with support) and pivot a little and sit himself down in the wheelchair. As you can imagine, it's quite an exertion for both him and my mom.

The most noticeable issue is his right eye. Because that side of his face is weakened, the eyelid is wide open. It gets dried out, and goopy, and worst of all, his cornea gets scratched. So they've started putting a patch on his eye to keep it shut. This seemed like a good idea until we discovered that his eyelid would open up UNDER the patch and proceed to get scratched even more by the patch resting directly on his eyeball. Sheesh. So we tried various solutions including taping it shut first and then putting a patch on. If you've ever scratched your cornea, you know how much it hurts, and when his eye hurts, he's miserable, the poor guy.

I wanted to get him a black pirate eyepatch to go over the white gauze. Especially with the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie showing, I thought it would be very jaunty. The little grandkids would love it! He'd look just like Johhny Depp ... well, maybe not. Alas, my mom nixed that idea.

There's also a struggle to get him to eat and drink enough to sustain his body. Sleeping so much doesn't leave much time for eating, and he doesn't even have much of an appetite. Three bites of a banana is a big meal for him. As you can imagine, he's lost about 15 pounds already and he was already skinny. His legs are like toothpicks.

He is alert and coherent at times. He knew who I was most of the time and knew the other kids and grandkids who were there. He can tell you when something hurts and when he needs to go back to bed and when he's thirsty. But he also gets confused about where he is and what decade he's in. He keeps thinking he's on a trip (to Illinois, I think) and my mom reminds him that he's home in Bellingham. He looks around the familiar bedroom and agrees. But 10 minutes later he thinks he's back in Illinois again. The funniest time was when my mom asked him," Where do you think you are?"
He replied, "In the Marines."
"I don't think they'd let you lie around in bed all day in your pajamas, do you?" she responded.
He looked around the room. "No, I suppose not."

My mom is beginning to take him to physical therapy and speech therapy and occupational therapy this week in the hopes that he can build up his strength. He had a stroke 5 years ago and fought his way back that time, so she's hoping he'll be able to do it again. She is an absolute saint.

Overall though, I had the feeling that this might be the last time I see Dad since I live so far away. So I sure was glad that I came home when I did. It was good to see him while he was relatively alert as opposed to a coma or something like 5 years ago. Mostly, it seemed like we could be at peace with each other. Those of you who know my dad know that he can be a difficult man and that we'd had a contentious relationship. However at this stage, he doesn't have the energy to be mad at me for anything, and he's so harmless and helpless that I'm not threatened by him anymore. All the old animosities seemed to have melted away which felt really good. I'm also really thankful that I had an extra week to sit around and talk with my dear sweet mother. It seemed like I didn't help very much but she sure made me feel appreciated anyway!

As I headed to the airport to return home, I realised how much I'd missed New Zealand. It was such a treat to hear the Kiwi accent when I arrived at the Air New Zealand counter. I was anxious to get back to my husband and my house and my church and the life that we've established there. When I went through customs at the Auckland airport, I didn't get in the line for foreign passports. I got to be in the line for New Zealand passports and residents. It felt good to be home.