Difficult things

As I get older, I find myself more and more in situations where I must do things that are difficult. They may be unpleasant, unwanted, yucky (a highly technical term), or just plain hard. There are myriad more adjectives that I could use here, but I think I've made my point.

Yesterday's difficult thing was both difficult and wonderful at the same time. Emma and I went with my mom to see my grandma and grandpa, who are both currently in residence at a senior citizens' rehab facility. Grandpa, age 91, is recovering from hip replacement surgery; and Grandma, age 89, is recovering from double pneumonia and the flu. Thankfully, they are both doing remarkably well.

The difficult parts:

1. Not a big fan of nursing homes. I'm not quite sure why. But I remember in high school when I sang with the Madrigals that we had to do some performances at the local nursing home, and it always gave me the creeps.
2. Grandma and Grandpa's room was hotter than Hades. For real. It was like standing-on-the-face-of-the-sun hot in there. Mom was sweating, I had to roll up my sleeves, and Emma was about to die (she is very hot-natured, so she had little pink cheeks). *Note to self: next time we go back there to visit, wear short sleeves.*
3. I got stopped by a couple different older people who wanted to talk to me.
   A)   One woman asked me if I drove, to which I answered yes. She said "they" left her there and won't let her leave, to which I replied at least she has nice people there to take care of her (one of those nice, scrubs-clad people happened to be walking with her down the hallway). She said that "they" don't take care of her at all. Thankfully Emma had zoomed past me at some point during that exchange and had gone into my grandparents' room, so I said I was sure that wasn't true and excused myself to go "catch my daughter," even though I knew she was fine. My heart broke for that woman.
   B)   This man chatted with me as we were on our way out the door to leave. He mumbled something, then he said he was thirsty and needed water. I wanted to stop and get him a drink of water. The fact that he was just wandering around the entryway alone, asking a complete stranger for a drink of water, broke my heart too.
4. I was sitting next to Grandma on the little couch while Mom was across the room showing Grandpa the DVD of photos of their recent bathroom remodel, which G and G have been unable to see in person yet. She asked me what they were watching, and I told her. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes and she said that she felt like they were missing everything. Heart torn in two.
5. Grandpa has become a very quiet person. He used to talk to anyone and everyone about anything and everything. Now it's hard to get more than a few words out of him at a time. And he has a hard time hearing me because my voice timbre is so high. It's practically impossible for him to hear Emma say anything. So I don't talk to Grandpa very much anymore. And that makes me sad.

The wonderful parts:

1. Grandma's huge smile and happy greeting when Emma and I walked into their room for our surprise visit.
2. Pushing Grandma's wheelchair ~ not running her into anything, thank you very much ~ and having the opportunity to help give her a reminder of her "normal" life and why she's working so hard in rehab to get better.
3. The smiles on people's faces when Emma walked through the lobby. She made some hearts very happy just by her presence there.
4. Being able to help my mom take care of Grandma and Grandpa, even if only for a little while. She has so much on her heart and on her plate right now, and being able to help take even a tiny bit of that away was great.

I'm sitting here trying to figure out a concise, clever way to wrap up this blog post, but nothing is coming to mind. So I think I'll leave you with the words of my favorite hymn, for no other reason than I love to sing the song and it always gives me comfort...

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

It is well (it is well)

With my soul (with my soul)

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Chorus

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more.

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Chorus

And, Lord, haste the day, when my faith shall be sight.

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll.

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend.

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Chorus