Giving Back to Grandma Jan

On May 21, 2009 I made a tearful phone call to my mom as Shawn and I headed from the specialist's office to the hospital after an unnerving change of events. Due to heart complications, Benjamin was to be delivered right away at 35 weeks gestation. Could she please arrive as soon as possible? I was calling from Oklahoma, and she was responding from Whidbey Island, WA where she had moved the year prior to help care for her mother as she began the steady decline into Alzheimer's disease. It was a sudden change of plans and a taxing travel schedule, but she arrived in Tulsa and was by Benjamin's NICU crib less than 24 hours later. She remained with us for the next six weeks. She stayed with me in Tulsa for nearly the first month of that time as I recovered from the unexpected C-section and we waited for our sweet baby to be released from the NICU. Shawn had to return to work an hour away and could not be there all the time. I don't know how I would have made it through those long and lonely days (and nights) without my mom's company.

Upon Benjamin's homecoming, she returned with us to our hot, little, two-bedroom rental house. The Oklahoma heat was sweltering in June, and our small air conditioner did very little to keep the indoor temperatures bearable. She sat and sweat and cuddled tiny Benjamin while I would try to get some much needed sleep. One night in the wee hours of the morning she held a screaming baby and walked up and down the living room floor with him while Shawn rushed me to the ER. I was in unbearable pain and experienced my first (and only) panic attack, making it difficult for me to breath. It would be two more years we would learn that my pain was triggered by gallstones. She took the exhaustion of those weeks in stride, cherished the cuddles with her first grandchild, and eventually had to return home to Washington. During that time she also kept a written record of events, and soon after she mailed me a notebook entitled "Grandma Jan's Journal." I will always cherish her writings. She chronicled the first precious weeks of my son's life when I didn't have the energy to even think about writing. Her journal became the middle section of my book Reflections from Holland: A New Mother's Journey with Down Syndrome.

Once home in Washington, she expected to resume her routine of living with and assisting her mother. Her youngest brother owned land in the woods where he had built a house and the necessary caging for his unique hobby of raising cougars and other exotic cats. My mom and grandma lived together in a second house on his property. My grandma was still fairly independent at this point, but my mom had taken over all of the shopping and cooking. She was present to keep her mother company and to be a watchful eye for her overall well-being. However, within weeks of arriving home from her visit in Oklahoma, she received word that her elder sister Ann was dying. She went in for a stomach surgery, and was found to be full of ovarian cancer. Once again my mom boarded a plane and, instead of flying half-way across the country, she went coast to coast, arriving in North Carolina. Ann's final days ended up being stretched into 66 pain-filled final days as she was moved from facility to facility. My mom loyally stayed by her side during that time, advocating for her in some less than desirable conditions and being a presence of comfort. She loved her, suffered with her, and faced many lonely days and nights in unfamiliar settings. Upon Ann's death, she made another stop in Oklahoma again, this time for some healing cuddles with her grandson.

As she grieved the loss of her sister, my mom once again resumed her life in Washington, and keenly noticed the changes that took place her mother's memory and ability during the months she was away. Life regained a sense of normalcy, but she was always sure to plan visits to Oklahoma every three months or so. Spending time with her daughter, son-in-law, and especially her little grandson gave her the needed reprieve and refreshing from the strain of witnessing her mother's steady decline into memory loss. However, the beauty of Washington, her exceptional church family, and her mission of caring for her mother always drew her back again. However, I had a building inner sense that one day she would be coming to Oklahoma to stay.  

In the fall of 2011 I had some more visits to the emergency room, and I was finally correctly diagnosed with gallstones. An outpatient surgery to remove my gall bladder soon followed. Benjamin was a heavy two-year-old who was still only crawling and required the care of an infant. I had my surgery near the end of the week, and I was hopeful that I would be recovered enough after the weekend to resume Benjamin's care when Shawn had to return to work. However, the closer we got, the more I realized that I was hurting too much to be lifting him all the time. Once again I made a phone call to Washington and asked my mom if there was any way she could come. Once again she made arrangements and was soon on a plane headed our way. Her help that week was immeasurable!

The following February brought some major transition for her in Washington. The level of care my grandma needed had surpassed what my mom and uncle were able to provide. They made the difficult decision to move her to a professional facility for people with dementia called Home Place. It was an exceptional care home, but it was a hard change nonetheless, especially in the first weeks as my grandma pleaded to be brought home again. In time my grandma's memories of her house in the woods began to fade. The loss of memory was heart-breaking, but her contentment at Home Place was reassuring. My mom visited her on a regular basis as she processed her conflicting emotions of relief and guilt that she was not able to continue caring for her mother at home.

She continued to enjoy visits to Oklahoma and was delighted to receive the news that summer that we were expecting our second baby! Knowing that I would require a second C-section birth, she blocked out six weeks to stay with us when Joelle was born. She arrived the week before to help me in the midst of late-term pregnancy, and she stayed with us through my recovery. When the time came for Joelle to be born, my mom took care of Benjamin so that Shawn could be with me at the hospital. Of course, she was sure to come have some newborn cuddles too!

  

What I have not mentioned thus far is that my mom has lived for years with fibromyalgia, which affects her with chronic fatigue, muscle aches and pains, and a weakened immune system, among other things. The strain of travel, caring for Benjamin by herself, and the winter weather took it's toll, and she came down with a nasty virus shortly after we brought Joelle home. I felt so bad for her. Our house is small with no guest room. She was staying in Joelle's nursery on an air mattress, (we kept the baby in our room), and I knew she was both miserable and frustrated because it wasn't safe for her to hold her new granddaughter while she was still contagious. I was recovering from major surgery, and Shawn and I were both exhausted from our colicky, high maintenance little princess! We were all in need to someone to take care of us! Prescription medicine and lots of rest finally put her on the mend, and she was able to re-engage with the family. Once again, her help was so appreciated as she would spend the evenings after Benjamin went to bed holding a baby while Shawn and I caught a few hours of sleep before beginning our night time marathon. 

The return to Washington was again marked by rapid change and transition. During the six weeks my mom was with us, my grandma had taken a definite turn for the worse. She celebrated her 86th birthday on April 24, and she peacefully passed away in her sleep a few weeks later on May, 16 2013. Thankfully, she was still able to recognize her children up to the very end. A definite chapter in my mom's life had come to a close. In addition to caring for her mother over the last five years, she had also been chronicling the journey along the way. The next year she would compile her writing into book form and release her first self-published book Three Corner Has My Cat: Caregiving in Alzheimer's Time by Janis Lussmyer (available on Amazon). 

Though she loved her life on Whidbey Island, surrounded by natural beauty and the support of her church, my mom was feeling an increasing pull to Oklahoma and her two precious grandchildren. A few months after her mom's passing, she flew out to visit and to begin looking around for a possible home. In a timing of events that only God could orchestrate, the house across the street from us hit the market a few days before her arrival. To make a long story short, she was the only one to even view the home, and before she returned to Washington, she had already signed the contract! A few months later she arrived in Oklahoma once again, this time to stay, and began a brand new chapter of life. It was the first time we had lived in the same town since I graduated from high school. 

It has been a remarkable blessing for us all to have my mom so close these last two-and-a-half years! She jumped eagerly into her role of grandma and has given us immeasurable help with the kids. We have been able to enjoy casual family dinners as well as holiday celebrations. She has been company to me on some of my more taxing mommy days, and my children absolutely adore her. Regular visits from Grandma and trips across the street to her house are always a cause for celebration!

It was so special to have her close by through my entire pregnancy with Josiah, and she prepared herself to help with the older two while Shawn and I were at the hospital upon his arrival. None of us realized all that would end up requiring. Due to the inhalation of amniotic fluid right at birth, Josiah was immediately fighting for his life. He ended up being transferred to a NICU in Tulsa for his first few days. I was recovering from my Cesarean section in the local hospital, and Shawn was staying in Tulsa with our newborn son. Grandma Jan was beyond weary, but she stepped up and did what was necessary in caring for the other two. Some wonderful friends gave her a few hours of reprieve at times so she could get some necessary rest, and another friend stayed by my side in the hospital. It was a long three days, but finally we were able to bring little Josiah home and transition into life with three children. Grandma Jan quickly became on of our little guy's favorite people, and he joins his older siblings in demanding her attention as soon as she enters a room!

It feels so natural now to have my mom living so close. However, I have tried hard to not take this gift for granted. It's become very natural for her as well. Oklahoma is home, and she has established herself in the community, getting involved in a local church and related activities and even volunteering once a week at a Christian-based hospice home named The Journey Home. At times we've discussed ideas about the future, including the possibility of getting a large house all together if she reaches the point someday of not being able to maintain a home by herself. For the present, we've been enjoying our lives that are both deeply combined and uniquely separate. We've always known that God is the One who brought her here, and recently we have recognized with gratitude more of His purpose in doing so. 

On May 27 (my 34th birthday) I accompanied my mom to an appointment for a mammogram and ultrasound in order to test the lump in her breast she had recently discovered. We had both been experiencing a supernatural peace since she found the lump. I interpreted this to mean that it would end up being nothing more than a cyst. I found out later that she wasn't so sure. It was both shocking and sobering when we were told following the procedures that she more than likely has breast cancer. Biopsy testing and an MRI over the next few weeks have confirmed this. What we have learned thus far is that she has triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma (a common and aggressive form of breast cancer) and that there is some lymph node involvement. The recommended course of treatment right now includes chemotherapy, followed by surgery, and finally radiation. It has been a very emotional month, but the Lord has so graciously filled both of our hearts with His peace that truly passes understanding. My mom's prayer from the very beginning is that God would be glorified through this all.

Next week I will accompany my mom to her oncologist appointment and to the out-patient appointment to have a port inserted so that she will be ready to begin chemotherapy. I have already taken her to a handful of appointments and some wonderful friends have accompanied her as well when I have been unable to. We have no idea what the next several months will be like, but it could be a very long and trying road. Whatever it looks like, though, I know one thing--I am committed to being there for my mom. 

When we used to discuss the future, she would often lament that her greatest fear was that she would one day become a burden to Shawn and me. She knows first-hand the ups and downs of caring for an aging parent. I was relieved a week or so ago when she told me that her fears about this are dissipating now that she is faced with this present need for help and care. As I said, I don't know what things will look like, but I do know that, whether on good days or bad days, it is a privilege to serve her. I have witnessed my mom's Christ-like service to her family over the last several years--now it's our turn to give back to Grandma Jan! I love you, Mom.  

To the Other Mom in the Waiting Room...Please Don't Apologize

Our conversation started out naturally enough. We were both sitting in the waiting room at the pediatrician's office for the Saturday morning clinic for sick children. You were there with your beautiful, 20-month-old daughter who had a rash. I was there with my precious, 10-month-old son who had a yucky sounding cough. I'm sure both of us had things we would have rather been doing on a Saturday morning, but we were making the best of it.

Waiting rooms can often be eerily silent places as people are buried in their smartphones and magazines, or as they simply stare straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with another stranger. I was pleased that you responded well to my initiative to strike up a friendly conversation. We chatted back and forth about our children and made some general small talk as we each waited for our child's name to be called,....

...but then a few simple phrases seemed to change everything...

I mentioned that our family was looking forward to celebrating my oldest child's seventh birthday that weekend. You smiled and said, "Seven? Oh, I bet he loves to help with the baby!"

Now at this point, I had a choice to make. I could smile and move on, or I could be real about the different dynamics our family experiences in this area. I love to talk about my kids, and I love opportunities to help create awareness about Down syndrome, so I decided to be real...

Smiling back at you I started to share, "Well, actually, my son has special needs..."

Before I could go further you quickly interjected, "Oh! I'm sorry!"

I'm always a bit taken aback when people apologize to me concerning my child, but I continued on.

"It's fine. He has Down syndrome, and..."

Once again you cut me off with another sympathetic, "I'm sorry!"

This time I was a little more direct...

"It's nothing to be sorry about. We love him crazy, and he has taught us so much! He's just not at a place yet to be able to help with the baby."

In response you smiled uncomfortably and busied yourself with your daughter. A moment later you picked up a pamphlet from the side table and started to flip through the pages. It was becoming increasingly clear that our friendly conversation had come to an end.

Let me first say...I am not angry with you. I believe you had no ill-intentions, and you were not trying to offend in any way. I am not angry with you, but I am saddened by your response. As I told you, the fact that my son has Down syndrome is nothing to be sorry about. If only you would have allowed me to continue I could have told you why...

I could have told you that my little boy's life is such a precious gift, especially considering that the doctors and nurses in the NICU didn't expect him to survive. I cannot imagine my life without him today.

I could have told you what a little over-comer he is after facing numerous health complications, including open heart surgery, and the fact that he is healthy and thriving today.

I could have told you what a champion he is--working so hard to reach various developmental milestones, and I could have shared with you the incredible celebration that has accompanied each one. I am so proud of him!

I could have told you about his contagious smile, his delightful laughter, and his wholehearted affection. My son carries such joy.

I could have told you about his unique personality, and some of his favorite things that include Elmo, "The Wheels on the Bus," and stuffed animal monkeys.

And yes, I could have told you about the challenges we have faced, but I also could have told you that each one has carried with it an opportunity to learn, grow, and discover the heart of God in brand new ways.

I could have told you that our journey may look different than some (then again, who's life journey ever looks the same), and that it carries its own unique beauty. I would not be the person I am today if I had not had the privilege of walking this road.

I could have told you so much...

...and hopefully your discomfort would have dissolved, and you would have been able to see that my son is not something to apologize for...he is someone of immense value--a good gift I will always treasure!

So, today, as I remember our short encounter, I bless you, and I pray that you will have opportunities in the future to truly see and know the person behind the disability. I promise you that your life will be enriched!

Seven Years of Swinging

In less than a week Benjamin will turn seven years old. SEVEN! The time has gone by so quickly, yet this journey into motherhood has felt like it's own little lifetime as well...

Seven years ago today I was bulging with my first baby, bone-weary yet full of anticipation. My emotions were constantly swinging with the fatigue and often chaotic hormones of late-term pregnancy and the joy of knowing I would soon meet this child for whom I had been longing. Seven years ago, though, I was still expecting an early June baby, oblivious to the roller coaster we were about to board in less than a week with an unexpected labor induction and ultimately a Cesarean birth. Seven years ago I did not know that my sweet baby would be fighting for his life from the moment he was pulled from my womb, nor that he carried an extra chromosome. Seven years ago I did not know that my swinging emotions were about to reach brand new heights of heart-wrenching pain and overwhelming joy.

Those first weeks following Benjamin's birth were full of a depth of love I never knew was possible as I soaked in the moments with my child, touching little hands and feet in the NICU crib and finally holding him in my arms after an agonizing nine day wait. Those weeks were full of a depth of pain I had not known before as well, as I watched my small son struggle for his life and tried to process what it would mean to raise a child with Down syndrome. My emotions were in constant swinging motion: I was thankful for the care he was receiving and grateful for the services in place through the Ronald McDonald House and the Hospitality House that enabled me to stay close by. I was resentful that we were in a hospital instead of home, our family separated as Shawn had to return to work in another town, and I was angry that my son was not the healthy, whole baby I had dreamed of welcoming into the world. A close friend gave us wonderful advice during those shaky weeks that became an anchor for my heart, "Celebrate your son every day."

Life eventually found its own rhythm and balance again, though I continued to ride the swing of joy and pain, grief, and celebration. I remember the first time Benjamin used a swing at the playground. He was two years old, still functioning as an infant. It was a beautiful day, and we just had to be outside. I gingerly placed him in the baby swing and began to gently push. As my little son began to swing that day, so did my emotions as I watched a small child close to his age running and playing all over the playground. I felt the pain of his present delays even as I experienced the joy of watching him so obviously enjoying this little outing with Mommy. I realized that the most important thing was that he was having fun, and I soaked in the cuddles and squeals of delight he let out as I held him close that day. 

There were more outings to the playground, some with just the two of us and some with Daddy. Benjamin has always loved the swings. On one particular outing, Shawn started snapping pictures as I pushed our little guy, and captured the perfect shot. We didn't know at the time that this picture would become a life-long favorite and the inspiration for the cover of my first book as I poured out my heart into print form to share our early journey of raising a child with Down syndrome. Knowing others were "swinging" as well in similar circumstances, I hoped that our story could offer some encouragement and comfort.

As we approach this seven year milestone in my son's life, I must say that I am so very proud of him! Benjamin has overcome more in his short life than many have over a life time. He is literally a walking miracle. I have gained more wisdom and experience in parenting him as time has gone by, but I know I have so much more to learn, and there is so much more he has to teach me. I still experience swinging emotions at times: I can feel overwhelmed by big boy diapers and the struggles of trying to effectively communicate with a child who is still non-verbal. I can still feel waves of grief hit unexpectedly with the reality of having a child with special needs and all the challenges that entails. I can confidently say, though, that the joy always outweighs the pain. The hugs, the laughter, the simplicity of my son are gifts in themselves, and I enjoy him so much. I also realize that emotions will always swing, no matter what the circumstances of life. However, truth is constant. 

The truth is that Benjamin was knit together in my womb by the God Who loves him, Who chose him, and Who has a beautiful plan for his life. The truth is that Benjamin is my child, my first born treasure, and I love him with every fiber of my being. The truth is that this sweet little boy will continue to grow and develop as the years go by, and his life is worth celebrating, on his birthday and every day! 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BENJAMIN!

I LOVE YOU FOREVER.

Worth A Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

This precious photo was taken while celebrating Christmas with Shawn's family in Minnesota. Benjamin's new friend Clint is the brother-in-law of a cousin. The last time we saw him I was early in my pregnancy with Benjamin, having no idea that my baby growing inside carried an extra chromosome. I wrote about meeting Clint in my book Reflections from Holland: A New Mother's Journey With Down Syndrome as I reflected on the various individuals with Down syndrome I met before giving birth to my son. It warmed my heart to watch these two connect over the holidays!

Clint has a natural love for children, but he was especially drawn to Benjamin. Upon observing our little guy for awhile he informed his sister, "That boy...he's just like me!" From that point on he tried to interact with our son at every opportunity. With my prompting, Clint sang the first line of "The Wheels on the Bus" with the hand motions, securing Benjamin's approval! (If you can't sing his favorite song, he will probably choose to ignore you. If you can at least sing the first line, you will probably be friends for life!)

As I did my best to make conversation with Clint that afternoon (his speech is rather difficult to understand), the thing that struck me the most was how much he talked about his mom. To my knowledge, he's been living in a group home setting for several years now, and I am unsure about how much he sees his mother at this point in life, but she is still at the forefront of his thoughts. He reminisced about how she used to rock him and sing to him when he was little. He shared about how she helped him learn to walk and talk. Everything he said about her he spoke with such fondness. I was reminded once again the vast importance and significance of motherhood. 

There is no real predictability when raising children, but I was thinking the other day about how much more pronounced this can be when raising a child with special needs. There is no definitive time for when certain milestones will be reached. Currently, I have three children wearing diapers. I find comfort in the fact that within a few years, both Joelle and Josiah should be potty-trained. I have no certainty of the timing of this for Benjamin. Joelle is a chatter box, and I am confident that Josiah will be talking as well within the next few years. I do not know when Benjamin will begin to speak. I know that Joelle and Josiah will eventually grow up and set out on their own. While I hope and pray that Benjamin will able to live independently one day, I know that he may need to stay with us, and I'm okay with that. I've realized that in certain areas he is going to "need" Mommy longer than my other two. I want to rise to the occasion and be the best mother to him that I can be. 

Oftentimes the demands of the present can press down on me and leave me feeling overwhelmed. This has especially been true as our family has adjusted to the gift of a third child and all the extra work and busyness that has required. Oftentimes the mother I want to be and the mother that comes out in the midst of my stress and exhaustion are not the same. It's easy to become discouraged at this point, but I cannot afford to stay there. I am comforted as I realize that, while no mother is perfect, a mother's love and nurture has such a long-lasting impact. I know that Clint's mother was not perfect; yet the love that she gave her son is still of utmost importance in his life. I am even more comforted by the truth that I do not have to try to be a good mom by my own strength. Jesus is inviting me daily to draw on His strength, His grace, and His wisdom as I love and nurture these little treasures He's entrusted to my care. 

"From the end of the earth I will cry to You, 

When my heart is overwhelmed; 

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I." 

(Psalm 61:2, NKJV) 

..."My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness..."

(2 Corinthians 12:9, NKJV)

"Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed,

 because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness."

(Lamentations 3:22-23, NKJV)

Yes, a picture can be worth a thousand words. The truth I am reminded of through the picture I shared today is worth a lifetime, and the Word of God that comforts me is eternal!

A Night for Grace

Today is a special day in the Hemminger household. Today Shawn and I celebrate 10 happy years of marriage! When I said "I do" at the altar, I could have never imagined all that would follow in the next decade. To honor this significant milestone, I am going to divert from my normal focus of writing about raising a child with Down syndrome and instead share another excerpt from my upcoming book A Covenant Kiss. The following is actually a short fictional story I composed for our local library's creative writing contest last year. It ended up winning first place for its category, and it will be included at the end of my book. Enjoy!

A Night for Grace

            Grace twirled in front of her bedroom mirror in her brand new dress, checked to make sure her hair and make-up were just right, and smiled wide. Tonight was a very special night. She had celebrated her fourteenth birthday a few days prior, and this evening she was going on her very first date with a very special someone. Butterflies of excited anticipation fluttered in her stomach as she grabbed her purse and bag and got ready to head downstairs for her big night. She had been instructed to dress up for dinner but have a change of comfy clothes ready for activities later in the evening. As she descended the staircase, her date was waiting for her at the bottom, dressed in suit and tie, holding a bouquet of red roses and beaming with a huge smile spread across his face. As she reached his side, he bent down, gently kissed her on the cheek, and whispered, “You look beautiful, Princess!”

            “Thank you, Daddy,” Grace giggled. “The flowers are gorgeous!”

            “I’ll put them in a vase for you, Honey,” her mother said smiling. “And now you two stand together so I can get a picture!”

            A few minutes later the pair exited the house and headed for the car. Grace’s dad opened the door for her as she slid in, shutting it gently behind her. “I’ve been looking forward to this evening for a long time,” he said as he put the car in gear and pulled out of the driveway. “Let’s go make some memories!”

            Grace let out a gasp of delight about ten minutes later when they pulled into the parking lot of the nicest restaurant in town. Patrons could only dine there if they had made prior reservations. The candlelit tables were set with beautiful linen and fine china. The service staff members were all dressed in their best, ready to wait hand and foot on their customers. Grace had only driven by this high end place but had never dreamed of eating there. “We’re having dinner here?!” she exclaimed.

            “Only the best for my princess,” her father replied with a grin.

            They received a warm greeting from the staff as they entered and confirmed their reservations for the evening. As they were led back to their table set by a beautiful bay window, Grace noticed the hanging chandeliers, the lovely flower arrangements, and the small, live orchestra playing softly in the background. She was already feeling like a princess!

            “Grace, please order anything you want on the menu. What looks good?” There were so many tempting options, but she finally decided on a savory grilled chicken dish, with creamy mashed potatoes, a generous tossed salad and steaming homemade bread rolls. Her dad ordered a juicy steak just the way he liked it with a delicious assortment of sides as well.

            After their order was taken, and they waited for their dinner to arrive, Grace commented “Daddy, this place is beautiful! Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

            “It’s my pleasure!” he replied. “Tonight is a special night, and I want you to feel just how valuable you are to me.” They continued their conversation through their delicious dinner talking about Grace’s school, her upcoming music and sports events, her friends, their family and anything else that popped up. They laughed together, shared from the heart, and had a wonderful time. For dessert, they split a piece of decadent chocolate cake.

            As they finished their meal and the dishes were cleared from the table, Grace’s father shifted the conversation. “Grace, as I already mentioned, tonight is a very special night. I want you to know that your mom and I are so proud of you! You are growing up to be a beautiful young woman, inside and out. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of taking you on your first date.” 

            “Daddy, thank you for taking me out tonight. You’ve made me feel so special!”

            “You are special, Grace, and that’s what I want to demonstrate to you tonight. I want you to remember that you deserve and should expect to be treated like a lady. You are entering a new season of your life, and I want you to know that your heart and your body are valuable gifts to be saved for the man who will one day commit to making you his wife. We have been praying for him since the day you were born, praying that he will be a man of love, integrity and purity—a man who will respect you and cherish you for life.

            Smiling and teary-eyed Grace replied “Daddy, tell me again the story of how you and Mom fell in love.”

            “Gladly!” he said smiling. “As you know, we met while we were in college. It seemed we kept running into each other on campus. I recognized that she was a beautiful woman, but at that point I wasn’t on the look-out for a relationship. I was focused on my studies and enjoying my time as a single. She wasn’t looking for a relationship at that time either. However, with each encounter, we found that there was such an ease for conversation, and we really enjoyed each other’s presence. In time, our “chance” encounters became planned encounters as a friendship began to grow. We spent time with groups of friends, but we also took walks around campus, or hung out at the local coffee shop talking about anything and everything. We were quickly becoming the best of friends, and it wasn’t long before I realized that I was falling in love with this amazing woman. After having a serious heart to heart one night, I made a call to her parents the next day, requesting permission to date their daughter.”

            “Why did you ask permission, Daddy? Weren’t you both old enough to decide for yourselves?”

            “We were, but we wanted to invite our families into our developing relationship. I wanted to honor your mom by honoring her parents who had raised her. If she was to become my partner for life, I knew I would also be joined to her family as well. This is a big reason why we have such a close relationship with your grandparents today!”

            “What was it like when you started dating?” Grace asked.

            “It was exciting and a bit surreal as well. We had developed such a close friendship, and now we were trying to transition into something even deeper. We made a decision together early on that many people may not understand or even agree with. It wasn’t a decision we had to make; it was a decision we chose to make. We agreed that we would save our first kiss for our wedding day, and if it turned out that we didn’t marry, we could gracefully walk away from the relationship, knowing that we hadn’t given that part of our hearts away.”

            “Why did you want to wait to kiss each other? Would it have been wrong to kiss?” Grace inquired.

            “No, it wouldn’t have been wrong. For us it wasn’t about right or wrong but about better or best. We felt that the best decision for us was to wait, even for a kiss. We had both been in previous relationships where we had kissed. We knew that kissing awakened physical passion in a greater way, and we knew that we gave a piece of our hearts away with each kiss. We both carried regret and some painful memories from those earlier relationships. We wanted to protect ourselves and each other from further regret, should our relationship not end in marriage.  As I said before, your mom is a beautiful woman, and of course I desired her. I also respected her and valued her. Protecting her heart and her purity was very important to me, and she felt the same way. We weren’t keeping something from each other, but saving something for each other when it could be given its full expression in commitment and purity. I knew she was worth the wait!”

            “Wasn’t it still really hard to do? Some of my friends have boyfriends and they kiss. They tell me how romantic it is and how good it makes them feel.”

            “There were times it was hard, but since we made the decision together, it was much easier than most people would imagine. During the time we dated, we continued to focus mainly on our friendship, not on physical expressions of affection. Even after I proposed to her and we began making our wedding plans we continued to wait. We knew that the closer we came to our wedding day, the greater our desire for each other would become. We were committed to maintaining our virginity for our wedding night, and we didn’t want to add needless temptation in this area. It’s also important to recognize that sometimes physical connection can become a substitute for relational connection. It can make you feel so close to a person. It can make you feel like you really know them; but if there isn’t genuine friendship as a foundation, it can be very misleading. If we had brought greater levels of physical affection into our relationship as we dated, we may have focused more on that than on our friendship. Your mom and I were best friends before we started dating and our friendship only continued to grow; we are still best friends today. Romantic feelings come and go in every relationship, but friendship is enduring.”

            Grace paused for a moment, considering what her dad just shared before asking, “What was it like when you finally kissed?”

            Smiling, he replied, “It was one of the most incredible moments of my life! When your mom entered the church sanctuary, she took my breath away. She was the most beautiful bride I could have ever imagined. I could hardly focus on the wedding ceremony; I was so captivated by her! When the time came for us to seal our marriage with a kiss, I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. Our first kiss was one of the most beautiful, memorable moments of my life. It’s a memory I will always cherish. I know your friends have told you about how special it is when they kiss their boyfriends, but special moments now can become painful memories in the future if those relationships don’t last. Every time you kiss, you offer a piece of your heart. It’s important that the one you give this precious gift to is one who can be trusted with your heart, not someone just using you for their own momentary pleasure.”

            Grace was silent again as she let her father’s words sink in.

            “Grace, please understand that I am not telling you what you have to do. You will be responsible to make your own choices in this area. However, I do want to encourage you to make decisions that will benefit you and your future husband and protect you from needless pain. You may decide to approach the area of dating differently than your mom and I did, and you have the freedom to make that choice. Whatever you choose to do in time, I just want you to remember that your purity is a gift, and only you can choose who will open it. I know that you’ve committed before to saving your virginity for your marriage, and that commitment is a priceless one.  We just celebrated your birthday, but there’s one more gift that was saved especially for tonight!” With that, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small velvet box, and gently handed it to his daughter.

            “What’s this?” Grace asked with surprise and delight in her eyes.

            “Open it.”

            Grace carefully opened the small box and gasped. Inside was a beautiful white gold ring with a heart at the center outlined in delicate emerald stones—her birthstone. “Daddy! It’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed.

            Smiling, he gently removed the ring and slipped it on her left ring finger. “Grace, this is your purity ring. It is a representation of your commitment to God, yourself, and your future husband to save your virginity for your marriage bed. One day it will be replaced by a wedding ring from the man who will commit to you and cherish you for life. Your mom also received a purity ring as a teenager. She presented it to me as a gift on our wedding night. I cherish that ring and what it represents to this day.”

            “Daddy, I don’t know what to say,” Grace replied as she gazed at the sparkling ring on her finger. “This means so much to me! I will wear it every day.”

            Grace’s dad looked at his daughter affectionately and said, “Honey, I am so very proud of you! You are such a treasure to me, and you will be a treasure to your husband someday… But that day is still a ways off, and we’re not done with our date! What do you say we get changed, and I challenge you to a game of miniature golf?!”

            “Absolutely,” Grace responded, “but you know that I can beat you!”

            “We’ll see when we get there!”

            An hour later Grace jumped up and down excitedly yelling, “Go, go, go!...Yes! I got a hole in one!”

            “Okay,” her dad conceded. “You beat me on that one, but we still have half the course to go. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve!” He pulled her into a side hug and planted a kiss on her forehead before heading to the next hole.

            Giggling, Grace looked down again at her beautiful new ring, shimmering as the emeralds caught the light. “Yes,” she thought, “I do want to save myself for a man who will cherish me, a man who honors me and values my purity, a man who I can trust with my heart…a man just like Daddy!”

Where Hope Grows

Our Thanksgiving feast was over, family had returned home for the evening, and our older two children were in bed for the night. Shawn and I decided to end our Thanksgiving Day by snuggling up on the couch with our baby and watching a movie. Our choice was the inspirational film "Where Hope Grows," which I had been eager to see for awhile. This must-see movie tells the story of a former major league baseball player named Calvin who is now an unemployed, single parent with a major drinking problem. His alcoholism has caused his teenage daughter to become increasingly estranged from him. His life is falling apart, but while shopping at the grocery store one day he meets a young man with Down syndrome, affectionately nick-named Produce (since he works in the produce section). Calvin is taken aback but later drawn by this young man's cheerful and affectionate personality as well as his optimistic outlook on life. Some of his more memorable quotes include, "I'm doing good. Even when I'm doing bad, I'm doing good." "Maybe you just need to smile. A cheerful heart is good medicine." (That last quote tickled me. Produce is quoting Proverbs 17:22, which is the content of one of Benjamin's favorite songs!) The two men form an unlikely friendship that alters both of their lives forever. In time Calvin addresses his drinking problem and begins to rebuild his relationship with his daughter. Ultimately, he is able to be there for Produce in the midst of a life or death crisis. It is a very touching film.

While we were watching the movie, I was captivated by all that Produce was able to do. He was living independently, holding down a job that he took great pride in, communicating clearly and effectively, and building and maintaining meaningful relationships. He acted as a gentleman and as a hero. He also pointed others to the true Source of his happiness--Jesus Christ. As we watched I felt hope rising in my heart again for my son Benjamin. Sometimes the demands and challenges of the present cloud my vision for what his future can truly be. I needed the encouragement. Presently, I have an affectionate six-and-a-half year old who is non-verbal, still wearing diapers, mesmerized by toys and movies designed for babies and toddlers, and requiring care for almost all of his basic needs. Sometimes the weeds of discouragement and disappointment try to choke out the hope in my heart for my son. I love him intensely, and I want him to live a rich and fulfilling life. I want him to be able to express the things in his heart and to enjoy meaningful relationships. I want him to be able to live with a sense of purpose, doing things he loves to do and experiencing the joy of accomplishment. Most of all, I want him to be deeply rooted in relationship with Jesus Christ, knowing that he holds such immense and eternal value in the heart of God. 

I was reminded this morning of Romans 8:24-25 which says, "For we were saved in this hope, but that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance." In context this passage speaks of hope for eternal glory, but I believe there is a principle here that can be applied to those things we hope for this side of heaven. Where does hope grow? It grows in the fertile soil of faith--faith in the goodness of God, faith in His promises, faith in His perfect plan. True hope grows in faith and is watered by love. I am thankful that on Thanksgiving Day, the Lord lovingly used something as simple as a movie to water the garden of my heart and to cause hope to rise again!

Awareness Acrostic

 



Happy Down Syndrome Awareness Month! For fun, I've compiled some facts about Down syndrome to pair with the letters in my son's name...

Babies with Down Syndrome make up about 1 in 691 live births in the United States.

English physician John Langdon Down first published a description of a person with Down syndrome.

Nondisjunction is the most common cause of Down syndrome and occurs prior to or at conception when a pair of the 21st chromosome in the egg or the sperm do not separate properly. The extra chromosome then replicates in every cell of the body.

Just like everyone else, people with Down syndrome experience a full range of emotions. They are not "always happy."

"A child with Down syndrome" is good people first language as opposed to saying "a Down syndrome child." Remember, they are more like other children than they are different, and their diagnosis in no way defines their personhood!

Medical terminology for Down syndrome caused by nondisjunction is Trisomy 21, referring to the presence of the extra 21st chromosome.

Intellectual and developmental delays affect people with Down syndrome and are usually present in the mild to moderate range. With early intervention services and lots of love and support from family and friends, children with Down syndrome can meet most, if not all, of their developmental milestones. They possess a wide variety of interests, talents, and skills and can be positive and contributing members of society.

New advances in medical knowledge and care have greatly increased the life expectancy for people with Down syndrome over the last few decades. In 1983, the average life expectancy was 25; today it is 60!

These are some facts about Down syndrome, but the fact is, no list of facts can ever come close to describing the individual beauty and complexity of my sweet son. He is uniquely created in God's image, full of life and love and promise. I am proud to be his Mommy!