Da Mamas... We've Got This

My 4-year old G-boy watched with interest as I smeared make-up on my face.  

"Why do you wear all that stuff?"  he asked.  

"Because I am old."  I replied grumpily.  

"You're not old.  You're still stretched."

"Huh??"  I asked.

"You're still stretched, like me.  Grandmother is old, because her skin is all bumpy.  But you are still stretched." 

Dear Lord, I love that boy.  

And just a few days later, I understood exactly what he meant.

I stuck my head in my mother-in-law's bedroom to check on her...

... just in time to catch her rolling her boobies up into her bra.

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My Mama didn't quite make it to the end of her self-imposed 90-day trial in assisted living.  When I went to pick her up for her hair appointment a few weeks ago, she looked at me wearily and said, "Okay, I give up.  I'm ready to move back home with you.  I'm tired of being surrounded by old people. They're boring."  

We moved her back in that very day.  

Knowing that my mother-in-law was living down the hall, made my Mom's decision a little easier.  "If you're gonna be taking care of one old lady, you might as well have us both," she said with a grin.

And it didn't hurt that my brother-in-law had taken up residence upstairs.  There is nothing boring about Jack.  

That's right, folks... I am now living with the Dickman, his brother, and our Mamas. Unscripted Reality TV at its very best.  Honey Boo Boo ain't got nothing on us. Motley Crue, indeed.

I know it sounds crazy.  

And I'll be the first to admit:  there is no small amount of cray-cray under this roof. Hardly a day goes by without tears being shed.  

Occasionally the Mamas even shed a few themselves.

But there is also plenty of laughter and hugs and exquisite moments to treasure. Most of the time, it feels like a blessing.

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Shortly after Dora moved in, I walked in on the Haney Bros having a deep discussion about the stages of Alzheimer's and what to expect as the disease progresses.  I heard Jackie say that he was praying hard for his Mom to somehow find peace amid all her confusion, and he didn't understand 'why' God wasn't answering his prayers.  My heart squeezed a little at the pain in their voices, but I already knew what Jack was soon to discover...

God is all over this place.

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My G-babes came to see me a few days ago and brought their parents with them. I was in my Happy Place, my face buried in the neck of my 4-month old G-boy, when I glanced up to see this...

And then, this...

My precious daughter-in-law rubbing Da Mamas' feets with oil.

This young Mother of my Five Favorite Babies, Wife of My Son, Sweet Daughter of Jesus... had carefully packed her oils into her diaper bag just for a purpose such as this.

Tears rolled down my face as I watched her hands, swollen with rheumatoid arthritis, gently and lovingly rub the tired old feet of our Mamas. 

I don't believe I've ever seen a more selfless act of caring and love.

God is all over this place.

He is teaching us patience and humility.  He is challenging our perspective.  He is softening our hearts.  And he renews our strength every day by using us in ways that amaze and bless our spirits.

Oh, yeah.   We've got this.

Every Purpose Under Heaven...

Summer is almost over, y'all.

And as sweet as it has been, I must say... I long for a season without flies. Did you hear that, you pesky flies? Your days are numbered.

Texas summers ain't for sissies. They are hot. They are sticky. They are sweaty. And they bring herds of flies and swarms of mosquitoes as big as your fist because, you know... everything is bigger in Texas.

I'm ready for fall. For crisp mornings and breezy evenings and golden leaves and just... ahhhhhh, fall. The only thing wrong with fall in Texas is the epidemic of football-itis that afflicts almost every male in the state. Texas football without its rabid fans is like, I dunno... something without something. 

Thankfully, just about the time my Irritable Ball Syndrome begins to rage out of control, along comes winter.

Non-Texans are always surprised to discover just how harsh a Texas Panhandle winter can be, with below freezing temps and blizzards that can turn streets into chaos. Chaotic, mainly because Texans do not believe gigantor drifts of snow should deter them from getting in their vehicles and driving to Allsup's for a can of snuff. Or to Sonic for a Vanilla Diet DP. Whatever. 

Texans are Badass. Until we're not...

SNOWPOCALYPSE - 2013

Just about the time we start to have thoughts of sharpening our axes and going all Lizzie Borden each other... along comes spring, drifting in sweet and subtle and full of hope. Except when it's not, because spring is pretty much the bipolar season of Texas, with the constant threat of tornadoes and dust storms capable of drying out every single orifice on a body. Not to mention hailstorms of biblical proportions, because, you know... everything is bigger in Texas.

Suffice it to say, seasons come and seasons go.  But in our big ol' corner of the world, the changes are uniquely distinct and transformative.

It takes a special kind of person to endure the diverse seasons of Texas. We're extra strong and super tough. We learn how to make snow ice cream after blizzards; we never stop believing rain will come after the drought; and we can negotiate insurance reimbursements for hail damage like a boss.

Much in the same way we adjust our calendars and rearrange our closets to accommodate the changes in our seasons, it is also the seasons in our lives that change our hearts.

I can say with all honesty, there have been seasons in my life that I enjoyed more than others. The carefree season of my childhood, the angst-filled season of high school years, the heady season of newlywed bliss, the exhaustively joyous season of young motherhood followed by the roller coaster season of managing teenagers. And then... the Dastardly Season of Menopause. A season worthy of cursing indeed, except for the fact that delicious G-babes happen to pop up about the same time as hot flashes and chin hair. 

Without fail, every season of my life has been filled with blessings and challenges, sunshine and storms.  

But this season may just be the toughest of them all...

This season of caring for our frail, elderly Moms. Precious little ladies who deserve all the respect and dignity we can give them; parents who never wanted to be a burden to their children, who fervently wish they could roll back the years and return to the strong, vital, capable women of their youth.

Every day of this season is different.

There are honey-filled days of laughter and love followed by days of incredible pain and stress. It's uncharted territory, and we don't always get it right. Some days we are the knuckleheads who leave home for a quart of milk, only to find ourselves stuck in the snow. Some days, we get caught in the storm... pummeled by the hail and rain.

Even though we're Texas tough, we could never get through this season all alone.

And we've never been alone for a second.

My brothers and their wives are Solid Gold. Together we are a mighty team of ambassadors for our Sweet Mama.

And those Haney Boys...

Just when the Dickman needed him most, his brother put his life on hold and moved back home to help with Mama Dora. 'Cause that's what family does.

There is never a day that we feel like giving up. There is never a day that we doubt we will get through this. Because even on our very worst days, our track record for getting each other through is exactly 100 percent.

Still... it's hardest on the fellers. Boys are hardwired to fix things. They want to charge in like white knights on their fast horses and conquer the enemy. Whether it's mowing a lawn or changing a light bulb or unclogging the sink, boys never stop trying to be their Mom's Hero. It is particularly painful for them to watch their Mamas grow old and weak, yet not be able to 'fix' them.  Frustrating to know all they can do is help carry them through.

These Cooper and Haney boys are mighty precious.

Mama's Boys, every one.

But today, I want to give special thanks for my brother-in-law.  I want him to know how grateful we are for the unselfish sacrifices he has made, for the peace of mind he has given my husband, for the patient love he shows his Mom. Jackie Dean's heart has always been three sizes too big because, you know... everything is bigger in Texas.

You can't live in Texas and not be changed by the seasons. You can't go through the seasons of your life and not be changed, as well.

The only constant through it all is love. The kind of love that loads all his worldly possessions into a U-Haul and moves back home to be his Mama's hero...

For a season.

(I love you, Jaco Villa.)