Being Part of the "Sandwich Generation" is Hitting a New Level

I'm 57 years old. My mother was 30 when she had me and I was 31 when I had my daughter. So we weren't exactly "young'uns" when we each had our daughters. 

If you haven't done the math, that makes my mom 87 and my daughter 26. Previous blogs have chronicled the health issues my mom has as well as some of the mental and physical issues my daughter has. I've also recently written a lot about my daughter's move back home.

For those new to this blog, the short version is that four people live in this house - my mother, my husband, my daughter and me. ALL of us have auto-immune disorders, mental health issues, financial struggles, and strong personalities. 

Let me sum up some of the extra challenges I have during this phase of my life.

For most in my age bracket whose parents and/or children still live with them, it's their house. In my case, it's my mom's. I went through a major job loss and career change not quite a decade ago and in the process, I sold my home and moved myself and my daughter in with my parents (my dad was still alive at the time).

It's a very nice home... it's in an upscale community, with a total of 4 bedrooms, 3.5 baths, a kitchen, dining room, a garage, and two attic spaces right off the 2nd floor (so no pull-down ladder). I'm thankful for that. 

However... the only space that's "mine" is an upstairs bedroom (and I sometimes still have difficulty with stairs, even though overall I'm losing weight and getting stronger) and a study full of what my husband and I need for our photography/writing business. 

Previously, I had 3 rooms - a den/kitchenette (so my husband and I could have some things of our own and not in my parents' kitchen), plus the bedroom and study. We had to move the couch from the den to the bedroom and the apartment fridge into the study, so our already cramped space became even more cramped. 

Here's the real fun right now... my daughter has 4 cats. She won't let them go outside unless they are confined because she has some big anxiety issues about them getting hurt. There is absolutely no space in her bedroom to have a litter box, so we built a "catio" outside her window with a cat door as access. This space has space for them to play, sunbathe, and use the gigantic litter box we included. 

Her bedroom and our study are connected by a small foyer with a bathroom in between the two rooms. We have double swinging doors at the entrance of this area.

I have one cat who goes outside as she pleases through a cat door in the living room window. This means my daughter's cats can't go out into the main house because they might use the cat door to go out. So, to give her cats room to run, each night my daughter lets them out of her room, locking the double doors with a barn door lock. 

This means during those hours, I have to fight my way into and out of my study to make sure none of her four escape. I can't just go in and grab a drink from my fridge or work in the wee hours of the morning (my favorite time to work) because of them. It's been a BIG adjustment.

Before I go on, I want to emphasize that I'm thankful she's here. She was in a toxic relationship and she needed time to heal. Our relationship is better than it's ever been with her here again. With my mom's surgery, it's nice to have someone else in the house to take care of her when needed. 

But that doesn't make it less difficult.

So, going on... my mom just had surgery. When she was a child, she broke her elbow, which never healed properly. About 10 years ago, she finally had an elbow replacement. Then she injured it again - and needed a second elbow replacement. This was rarely done (at least then) and they told her nothing could be done if it was injured a third time.

Well, she fell on her shoulder - where the rod was attached. The rod came out of her humerus bone, causing her a lot of pain. She was still able to use that hand (her dominant hand) and had partial use of her arm but the pain made her seek out help.

She finally found a doctor who would tackle this complicated and risky surgery - the only one in our state that would. We both held our breath every time his office called or we had to go in for an appointment, thinking that at any point he would say it couldn't be done.

We were wrong. It was done.

However, when the surgeon got in there to fix it, he said that the old hardware was "rattling around." None of the several options he had planned on were able to be completed within that one surgery. Any additional time under anesthesia could be fatal (and I'm not being dramatic.)

Midway through the surgery, the doctor called for a conference with my brothers and me to tell us the news - and to ask our permission to do the plan he had mentioned briefly but never really thought he'd have to do. 

The only real option was to do the procedure in stages... the first being the surgery that day, which meant taking all the old hardware out. Then he wanted to wait about a month for her arm to heal somewhat (they had to cut a bone to get the lower part out) before doing the second surgery.

What none of us had planned on was the impact this change would make. She was supposed to be able to use her arm within a few days of the first surgery. Now she can't use it at all until the second surgery - there's nothing holding her lower arm to her upper arm. 

It's the little things that make life so difficult. She can't open a jar of medicine to take a pain pill. She can't carry anything because she had to switch from a rollator walker, one that has a seat that she used to carry items, to a cane. She can't make a cup of coffee in the morning as she can't open the creamer she loves. 

Plus, there's so much more that she either struggles with or can't do now.

Currently, my business is practically dead. This is a wonderful thing because she needs someone around all the time, but it means one more month of taking money out of what was supposed to be for retirement. 

The hardest thing for me is how I'm always torn. If I'm helping her, I feel I should be working. If I'm working, I feel I should be helping her. I have to arrange for someone to be here when my husband and I are gone to a physical therapy session (the result of when we were rear-ended and my car was totaled) or a doctor's appointment. It's really difficult to go to the YMCA to work out. I've even had to miss church.

This challenge multiplies on the many days my back is hurting. One example is when bending over to help her dress, as there's a lot of strain on my back. 

Like I did with my daughter, I also want to emphasize that I'm glad I get to be here for her. The other option would probably be some type of rehab center, an incredibly expensive option where she would be miserable not being able to be at home.

Even though I'm thankful I get to have my daughter back home and I am able to take care of my mother when she needs me, it's just plain ol' hard. I don't know how those of you out there who do this kind of thing with much, much more intensity - like having several children with disabilities, or having both parents going downhill fast, or fostering children who have come out of rough situations - make it.

I guess we all just have to live day by day (sometimes minute by minute) and do the best we can. At least that's what I'm trying to do.

 

An Email to the Pastors of My Church About True Community

A few things you need to know before you read this. 

One - I've purposefully left out names in this post.

Two - I wrote it during the individual portion of our church's weekly early morning prayer time. I still debate with myself whether I should have done it then, but I also know that if I wait on something like this, it either won't get done or I'll forget aspects that were important at the time. 

Three - It has taken me a while to post it. I wanted to really think about whether it should  be posted - and to give those I sent it to time to react. Before you read it, I want you to know that both of my pastors came to me separately and apologized. They each acknowledged that they dropped the ball on this and they would work on ways to hopefully make this less likely to happen to others in the future.

*****************************************************************

This might not be the best use of time for prayer - and this wasn't my intention when I came this morning - but what our speaker this morning said touched on something I've been debating on bringing up.

You both know how much I love this church. I also think you both know that I was pretty much dedicated to never going to church again just over a year ago (other than to Deaf Church, and that was to practice sign language more than being "at church"). While covering the K-Love Fan Awards Weekend last year (the weekend before first coming here), God did a work in me and I had a desire to find a church. I had no idea where to start but when I googled it, this church's name jumped off the screen at me. When I watched a video of a service I pretty much knew.

It took maybe 15 minutes for me to fall in love when I first came June 2, 2024. This church ticked off almost every box that I had prayed about in the past (before I gave up on church). There wasn't a doubt that I was supposed to attend this church.

And I was right. It is an amazing church. I believe that God is doing great things here. 

But I recently had something happen that made me have to fight a battle on whether I could stay or go back to where I was before - being so hurt that I couldn't get past it and giving up on the idea of church again.

I think you both know about my daughter moving back home - I've shared about it in several prayer requests. Well, she doesn't have anyone who could help her move and other than at church, my husband and I don't know many in the area (one issue with freelancing). The few friends we have are either older or live far away. We couldn't afford to hire anyone. Those in my family have various health issues that kept them from helping. 

On top of that, a few weeks ago my husband and I were rear-ended and my Santa Fe was totaled. I had planned to use it extensively during the move. The wreck caused my back issue to get worse as well as it causing other, new physical issues. My husband, who was driving, also got banged up also with back and neck issues.

I've known for a while that it was going to come down to only my husband, my daughter and me to do the move. My daughter and I have back issues and can't pick up anything heavy. We also both have issues with stairs (and the attic where most of her stuff was going to go is at the top of a long flight of stairs.)

So, mostly the entire move was on my husband - whose back was also hurt during the wreck.

I shared this with my small group, fully expecting help. After all, I thought that was what small group was for. 

Only one replied, but later had to cancel. 

I happened to share it with a friend at church, who shared it with her small group, and she had one in her group volunteer to help for a little bit. The one who canceled from my small group ended up being able to help with one load the last night we had to get everything out. 

But other than that, nada. 

Oh - I shared this with the worship team and a few others I know at church, practically saying I was desperate for men and trucks. 

I knew how hard it would be on me (who would try to do too much and strain my back even more than it already is) and my daughter (same issue). But mostly I knew how hard it would be on my husband, literally carrying the bulk of the load, going up and down the stairs with multitudes of boxes and small pieces of furniture. (Thank God there wasn't a lot of big furniture). 

For a church that I know loves people and loves to serve, why wasn't there anyone who would help us? I assumed that my small group would help... I even thought they would come full-force and really help us knock it out. 

I know that I have a lot of crap that I deal with - and share. For a while I've been wondering if (1) those in my small group are tired of hearing it and so they dismiss what I share or (2) if they don't believe me and think I'm making all this up for attention. 

The lack of help for the move made me wonder even more if this is true.

I'll be honest - I'm hurt. I'm frustrated. And I thought about leaving. However, I know that God has us here so leaving isn't an option. 

I've been planning to share all this with you since the move (about 2 weeks ago) but I've been holding back and trying not to share about my life for the reasons above. However, about a week ago, I told our marriage counselor about what happened and he encouraged me to tell you.

I still love this church. I used to love my small group. I'll be honest again - now I have a hard time trusting them. I feel that they don't have my back - and, as I said earlier, I thought that was the main reason for small groups to exist. 

Like the speaker this morning said, I know our church isn't perfect. I know the individuals who make up the church aren't perfect. I definitely am not. 

But this was rough. Having my daughter move back in with us is an extreme change. The physical move messed us up physically and emotionally and adjusting to her being here is an adjustment like no other. My husband and I basically lived in 3 rooms before - a den/kitchenette, a study (which is filled with all of our photography equipment as well as big desks for the large monitors we need when editing), and a bedroom. Now we live in 2 rooms - a bedroom/den (we moved the couch in there) and the study. My dresser is in the landing at the top of the stairs as is our bedroom/den. It hurts to climb the stairs, so I hang out at my desk way more than I should.

Even though it's a huge change, there were no other options and we will do anything to keep her from being homeless. I feel that that God is going to use this time to bring her to Him. But even knowing that, it's still really, really hard.

Most likely there were really good reasons for people not helping. I know everyone is busy and many also have physical issues that prevent helping. 

I don't want pity and I'm working hard to not feel like a victim in all this and the other things that keep happening in my life. I just wanted to be acknowledged. I forgot to mention that not one person even said they couldn't help. Not one asked if there was another way they could help. Not one took me aside to listen to what I was going through. One person at church did tell me last Sunday that my email went to his spam folder and he just happened to find it, so I take it back - there was one... but it was 2 weeks too late. 

Like I said before, I know I share a lot - and I have a lot going on where I need support and prayer. Am I not supposed to share all this? Am I supposed to keep it in and just pray and hope by myself? 

In Matthew West's song, "Truth Be Told," there's one verse that says "There's a sign on the door that says, 'Come as you are,' but I doubt it... 'cause if we lived like that was true, every Sunday mornin' pew would be crowded. But didn't you say Church looks more like a hospital? A safe place for the sick, the sinner, and the scarred... and the prodigal like me." 

I feel this church is one of the closest I've seen to the hospital in this metaphor. But instead of treating everyone, it only treats some. Thinking more about it, I am supported - when I'm growing in my faith journey - not so much when it's a personal, real-life matter.

You know about this blog - "Spotlight on Stigma: Welcomed but Not Accepted." On it, I try to be honest in all the crap I deal with, in all the good, in the struggles and in the victories. But one of my main tenets is to be real. That means sharing what's really going on in my life - good or bad. 

That's who I am - that's one of the things I feel God has called me to do... to be vulnerable so that others know they can also share their hurts and questions as well as victories. I don't want to have to change who I am to fit in at church. I really thought we were more than that.

By the way, my husband feels the same way.

We love you guys and we still love our church. The joy I had playing guitar with the team last Sunday was real. But so is all of this. We refuse to let something like this get in the way of what we feel God is doing. We just don't know what to do with those feelings.

*****************************************************************

Okay... when editing this months later, I decided to add the following - and THIS happened. 

*****************************************************************

Remember my note at the beginning about my pastors coming to me to discuss it? They could have easily ignored it, put the blame on someone else, told me it was my fault, or a myriad of other options. Instead, they saw it as an issue and said they would work to fix it. 

They aren't perfect, but I love them even more because of that. When church leaders acknowledge that they don't know it all and don't do it all right, I can trust them. My church isn't perfect either.  

Uh, oh. What?! Did I just say my church isn't perfect either? If I feel I can love my pastors more because they aren't perfect and don't know it all, how can I not give church members the same grace? 

Whoa! Light-bulb moment!

This is something I need to think about. Yes, I still feel the church should have helped. Yes, I wasn't wrong in feeling hurt when my church dropped the ball. But there may be much more in this than I realized.

I Simply Don't Understand What God is Doing (or Isn't)

I wish so much I wasn't affected by my circumstances. There are some who seem rock hard in their faith. Of course, there's a chance they aren't either - they are either good actors or who haven't had a lot happen to them in life. 

Anyway, I wanted to write this post a few days ago, but I never had a moment to sit down and write. I'm glad I didn't because there's been a twist that I didn't see coming.

My adult daughter just moved back in with my mom, my husband and me. I won't lie... it's been a really rough transition. There's no extra space to put anything. I already felt my space was full - now it's overly full. 

Add to that, my daughter's cats live in her room and a "catio" (a small enclosure with a top on it so they can go outside safely.) At night she lets them out of her room to play in the adjoining area that includes my study/office. I now have to babyproof that room so I get to my desk to work only after picking up a pile of papers they knocked on the floor or a book that was knocked off the shelf. So far nothing has broken, at least, but it makes it even harder to find places to put things safely.

The cats are also incredibly sweet and loving - which means they cry for me if they hear me working during the day and want to be held when I wake up in the middle of the night and try working for a while to get sleepy again. 

These are just some of the adjustments I'm having to make - and it takes me a while to get used to new routines.

But that's not why I'm writing this post though it is a factor in why I'm so discouraged at the moment, which is why I mentioned it.

My daughter has been dealing \with various mental and physical, as well as relationship issues, for the past few years. During the few months she's lived here, she's already improved. She finally feels able to start working - part-time at first but hopefully it won't take long to move into something full-time so she can get out on her own.

Earlier this week she found her "perfect job." The interview went so well that they offered her a job on the spot. It was really good money, great potential for advancement, and they would accommodate the physical and mental issues she still deals with. 

This is something I've been praying for - and asking friends to pray for - for years now. She and I were both excited when that prayer was answered.

But here's the first twist... it's at a new establishment - a drag queen lounge. 

What is so sad to me is that she is adamant that this is the first place she's ever felt totally accepted. Isn't the Church supposed to be that? I'd like to go into that more, but that's for another post.

Back to this one... I've been torn since she got the job. I don't understand or necessarily agree with that lifestyle, though I won't judge where another person is and what they believe. My personal belief is judging won't help and this group in particular gets way too much of that as it is. I feel my job is to pray, love, and let God convict and lead someone out of that lifestyle, just like any sin.

I'd like to go into that more, but that's also for another post. 

Back to this one again... would I consider this an answer to prayer? Would you? 

I don't know, but of course, I was happy for her. How could I not be? She has wanted for so long to get back out in the workforce but would have a hard time working in most typical environments. She wants to start earning money to help with expenses now which would also help my husband and me as we were already struggling financially.

She's been on cloud 9 since the interview, even though she came down with while strep throat the day after. 

What happened a few hours ago was devastating.

She opened Facebook to see a post from her future boss, the one who hired her, sharing how she and the rest of the leadership team had been scammed. They were fronted the money from an investor to pay for start-up costs but there's now it's been cut off. There's no more money. Her future boss and team hadn't wasted it. They didn't steal it. The investor was apparently not a real company. What she said doesn't make sense but my focus isn't on what happened with the company. That means nothing to my daughter. 

All she wants to know is why, when she finally got a job that ticked off all the boxes for what she wanted, after not being able to work for so long, did it fall through? She cried and cried for hours and still hasn't gotten over it.

So what do I do with this? Is this now an answer to prayer - that the job would fall through? It's not exactly the kind of job I would prefer her to have. 

I don't understand why she found a job she would love - that would help pay her bills as well as bring back the sense of independence she lost for several years - and then lost it.

I don't understand why my business has dried up... again. So far this month (it's the 12th), I have no, nada, zip income.

I don't understand why my husband can't find a job.

I don't understand why a way to earn a large amount of money fell through when it looked so promising.

I don't understand why I continue to struggle so much financially no matter how hard I work.

On the flip side, I also don't understand why, after decades of wanting to do so, I'm finally playing guitar again - and on a worship team and with my husband.

I don't understand how I have found a church that I love after years of saying I'd never go to a church (other than Deaf Church) again.

I don't understand all the amazing opportunities with photography and writing I've gotten over the past few years... and that I was actually able to author a book.

I don't understand how I met a man who loves me the way I am - fat, with mental and physical health issues, etc - and he asked me to marry him even though he had sworn to be a bachelor all of his life.

I don't understand how I was able to birth an amazing, complex, talented daughter after years of infertility.

Right now, I'll admit that I'm doubting who God is. But how can I give Him praise for the wonderful things that happen and then deny Him for the bad? Are both part of a plan... or is all this meaningless?

It's one of the greatest questions mankind has - and I'm positive of one thing - I won't come up with an answer.

I'll just keep going, and hoping, and trying my best to trust God...

... no matter what He is doing - or isn't.

 

Grateful in Everything?

I am a calendar person. Even though I moved from paper planners and wall calendars with big boxes to a Google calendar years ago, I still keep a regular monthly calendar near my desk where I can easily see it.

The main reason it's important is so that I can see the dates easily. I don't use it for scheduled activities or my to-do list. Other than the birthdays and anniversaries I include (because they don't change), each new month is a clean slate.

In the past, I have used this calendar in several different ways. One year I was pushing fitness - so I had small holographic stars I added each time I did anything physical beyond my normal routine. Another year I used it to keep up with my mood. That year I used sad, happy, and flat emoticon stickers on each day.

Last year I wanted a break from the thinking that went into the simple task of checking off each day - but I still wanted it to be colorful. I decided to use one-inch, differently shaped holographic stickers to mark the passage of time (and be able to see today's date at a glance.)

However, several years my calendars have been filled with 12 months of between 28 and 31 squares each saying ways I'm grateful. 

I've accomplished this task of noting how I'm grateful different ways through the years. I've kept the typical lists. These tended to be random... I'm grateful for my big, cozy desk chair; I'm grateful for my nice cameras; I'm thankful for my mom's support. Essentially these almost always involved people or things. 

In my husband's and my bathroom, we currently have a white board where we write what we're grateful for whenever we feel like it - sometimes every day and sometimes once a month. When it's full, we erase it and start over to make space to put something new.

But there are those years I've done it by utilizing my wall calendar. This is one of them.

Every morning as one of my first tasks at my desk, I think back to the day before and find something I'm thankful for about that day. These range from big (like the day I first saw my first published book) to what many would consider insignificant (that I had nothing scheduled and got to stay home all day).

Sometimes I have to really think about what to write. It's not that there was nothing to be grateful for... instead, sometimes not a lot happened the day before and it takes a minute to come up with what to add. Mostly it's that, due to the brain fog I have from some of my health conditions and meds, there are days it takes a while to even remember all that happened the day before. (Well, that's embarrassing to admit - but this blog is about sharing both the good and the bad.)

I didn't mean for that to be the perfect segue, but it is.

Let's go to today. It's 6:38am. I got to my desk around 6:15am after not being able to sleep any later due to pain I'm dealing with. (By the way, it's rough when laying down doesn't relieve your pain - your bed is supposed to be one of your most comfortable spaces!)

As I said before, when I first sit down at my desk, I get my calendar off the wall and check off the day before by filling it the square in with something I'm grateful for. 

Yesterday was one of those "nothing special" days. I didn't complete any great projects; I didn't have an amazing interaction with a friend; I didn't get booked for a shoot that could help pay the bills this month. It was a day of catching up on emails, doing some chores, going to PT, etc.

Like I said, "nothing special."

Then I remembered that I worked out and swam at my local YMCA for the first time in months. Swimming is one of the hardest things to make myself do - but I'm always in a better mood after I go. (I know that makes no sense, but such is the life of one with mental health issues.)

I had found my grateful aspect for that square.

As soon as I finished and put it back on the wall, I thought of another I could have added. I didn't think about it first because it's not uplifting, not displaying a great moment that happened.

It relates to the pain I mentioned earlier. I have back issues along with other health conditions that can cause pain off and on (like fibromyalgia). In addition, I still have issues from my car accident three months ago and my falling twice on concrete about a month ago. RLS (restless leg syndrome) and leg cramps complicate the aforementioned problems.

Last night everything hit. My back was killing me by the time I laid down. At first I couldn't fall asleep because of the pain. Meds weren't helping and I didn't know what to do. My husband reminded me we could try an ice pack. I told him I'd try anything.

He got the extra, extra large cold pack that I had used after my rotator cuff surgery and put it on my back. He also rubbed in some pain relief cream. It didn't take long for these to work and I quickly fell asleep.

Fairy tale ending, huh? 

Nope!

I slept about an hour and when I woke up, not only was my back pain worse, my wrist was hurting (from the car wreck), and my RLS was in full force. That was bad enough, but after moving into different positions all over our king-sized bed, just trying to get comfortable, I got a leg cramp.

Most of the time I don't get regular leg cramps - the ones in one calf that hurt but don't cause major pain and go away in a few minutes.

Mine are in any lower extremity muscle from the waist area down (some I didn't even know I have). They are excruciatingly painful, have lasted up to an hour, and move from muscle to muscle. One will finally release only to have another nearby start cramping. Often it involves both legs at the same time.

Thankfully this was a "normal" leg cramp. It hurt pretty badly and lasted more than a few minutes, but it didn't spread or come right back after it finally released.

But by that point, I was done. I was so tired of hurting. I wouldn't have gone through with it, but I told my husband that I wanted to just take a whole bottle of ibuprofen so the pain would stop completely. I want to clarify that no one needs to set up some kind of intervention - again I say, I promise I wouldn't have gone through with it. I just wanted the pain to stop.

I finally decided to attempt my "last resort" method - taking a bath. I won't go into all the reasons behind this, but taking a bath is difficult right now due to the injuries I've sustained the last few months, which is why I didn't try it first.

It worked. My pain eased and I was able to relax. I quickly fell asleep in the tub and probably slept between three and four hours... in the tub. I would wake up when the water started getting cold, turn on more hot water, and go back to sleep before I knew it. 

When I finally decided to get out, I was able to go to sleep in my bed. I woke up incredibly early, hurting again, but I got enough sleep to make it through today.

So... finally... my realization after writing my grateful thing from yesterday...

Why do I only include the accomplishments, the amazing moments, the things that are easy to be grateful about?

Writing about my swim wasn't wrong. It was an amazing time and when I think of it, I'm still very grateful.

But, though I'm definitely not grateful for the pain, RLS, and leg cramps I have to deal with many nights, there is so much to be grateful for within it.

Some examples:

- My amazing husband, who always drops what he's doing or wakes up to help.

- The big tub that's made so well that it's comfortable enough to sleep in (and no, it's not so large that I could drown when I sleep in it).

- My RLS meds, which don't always prevent them from happening, but do help lessen them.

- That because I'm a freelancer, most days I can schedule down time or even a nap if I've had a night where I didn't sleep much, resulting in less pressure and stress over not getting enough sleep than if I worked a 9-5 job.

- Though they haven't figured out how to fix it yet, I have some great doctors who are helping me with the issues that keep me from sleeping.

- Etc, etc, etc...

One reason I try to avoid social media is because people usually show their highlight reels, not the outtakes, the mistakes, and the bloopers. I try my best in this blog to show who I really am, what I'm really thinking (even if it's not politically correct or something most would admit) and both my struggles and my victories.

If I believe so much in that, why don't I do it everyday - with my grateful calendar?

Moving forward, I'm going to challenge myself to do it more - continue including the good but not forsaking what could be considered the bad. 

May you also begin to recognize how to be grateful in everything.