Friday, April 03, 2009

Historical Stuff - rock collecting

Papa was obsessed with rock collecting. Whenever he came home from a walk, his pockets were sure to have some rocks in them. Some days his pockets were so full of rocks that suspenders would have helped keep his trousers up.

One day while we were walking from the car to the mall, we passed a half ton truck with rocks in the back. He immediately went to take some and I cautioned him that this would not be a good idea. It was difficult for him to understand why he couldn't take some of these rocks.

We kept a bucket or wooden flower pot near the front door and usually he would empty his pockets there. Sometimes the rocks came in the house and we often found little piles of them in various places. Occasionally he would show one of them to us as being rather special in either color, shape, or peculiar markings.

Usually the rocks were small in size but occasionally some rather large ones found their way to our house. It didn't take long before we needed to do something with all these rocks. Sometimes we would return them to an alleyway near our home from whence they first came, after he had gone to bed. We always left a few in the container knowing that he likely would not remember it had been full the day before.

During the summer of 2007, Stan transformed our back yard to accommodate his model train. As part of the 'new' look, he created a dry creek bed that utilized many of the rocks Papa had collected over the years and mentioned it many times to him, "these are the rocks you have collected!" We are unsure how much of it made any sense to him. He did like Stan's trains and often thrilled to tell others that he had given Stan his first train set when he was a child and "he is still playing with trains."

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Historical Stuff- Walking

Papa loved to go walking. The first two years he lived with us we occasionally accompanied him, but often he made it quite clear that he wanted to go alone. Though we were sometimes reluctant, we also did not wish to overdo the supervision. He expressed a desire for independence and we gave it to him. Sometimes his walking ventures successfully ended back home, but many times they didn't.

He was always very proud of himself when he safely found his way home. And when he realized he was hopelessly lost, he did not hesitate to ask for assistance. During the summertime, people were often out in their yards so he would stop and tell them he was lost. Sometimes they were able to query him sufficiently to get a last name and then check the telephone directory. When the phone call came, we would hustle off to retrieve him. At other times Papa was unable to accurately communicate his name and eventually we would hear from the police, either to pick him up at the station or to give an address for them to deliver him.

I'll never forget the day I discovered him gone for much longer than expected and knew I'd receive a phone call sooner or later. When it came, the police indicated where they were with him and it was a short distance up the hill from our house so I suggested I would come get him. The scene as I approached the address nearly had me double over in laughter. Three policemen stood encircling Papa on the driveway of a home while two police cruisers sat precariously on the street. Apparently he had gone to the door of this home and the woman inside was afraid so called the police. He could not be more mild mannered and to see him being treated like a criminal was rather humorous.

As getting lost became more the norm we knew his independent walking trips were history. At first I would allow him to leave independently and then follow half a block behind so he still thought he was walking alone and I had the security of knowing where he was. When he became obviously lost I would approach him and offer to direct him home. Sometimes he expressed awe that I had found him.

This strategy worked for a while but when he took a turn down the alley to collect rocks and disappeared before I caught up, I knew we had to insist on accompanying him. Once again I was reminded that my time was not my own because Papa often wanted to go for walks, several times a day. He was frequently bored and walking helped to occupy time. I slowly learned not to begrudge these interruptions to my day because the walks were good for my health too.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Closed but not Forgotten

The funeral was a time of celebrating Papa's life. Yes there were a few tears, but mostly we enjoyed remembering all the wonderful bits of heritage we enjoy because of his life.

He often commented that although several of his brothers were pastors, he had Jesus' first occupation, that of a carpenter. We chose to display some of the toolboxes he had made and also the tools he used to build houses. One of the toolboxes became the container for a floral arrangement which crowned the casket.

Some of the heritage we enjoy:
- his quiet, one liner humorous comments...a trait that is carried forward by his son and his grandsons. His favorite color was 'skyblue pink'.
- his life of integrity
- his dedication to his Lord, his family, and his church

The day following the funeral, Stan and his sister, Lois, flew to Abbotsford along with Papa for the interment. He, well at least his body, is now 'at home' next to his dear wife. We believe his spirit is also 'at home' with his Lord and Saviour, Jesus. He commented on several occasions with considerable emotion that he longed to go to heaven and the first thing he wanted to do was to see Jesus, who gave His life so that we could enjoy heaven with Him.

Saturday, March 07, 2009

Papa is 'home' and knows it.

Stan called the Hospice at 8 a.m. He was told Papa had been peaceful all night. Nothing had changed since yesterday.

As we prepared to pick up Stan's sister from the airport, the phone rang. I expected a call from my father, who calls every Saturday morning around 8:30, but it was the Hospice telling us Papa had just died.

We do not grieve as those who have no hope, for we know that we shall see him again.

He was very ready to go to heaven and often spoke of seeing his parents and his brother Emil.

We rejoice that he is now 'home' and knows it.

Friday, March 06, 2009

Papa Lingers

Many times over the past few weeks Papa has reached his arms heavenward and looked up. We have wondered if he had a portal to heaven. Does he see 'the other side' and is reaching towards his loved ones there? Are they encouraging him to 'come'?
We have encouraged him to go to them, yet he lingers.

We wonder why he lingers. Are there relationships that he needs closure on? His daughter arrives tomorrow and some of his caregivers of the past few years will stop in to see him today.

Fortunately he has been relatively comfortable the past few days with minimal medication. Sometimes he has had very positive expressions on his face and other times his forhead furrows in agony. How we long for him to be released from his prison.

Recommended Books

The following are recommended books that have encouraged us during our Life with Papa:

Precious Lord, Take My Hand by Shelly Beach

Treasures of Darkness by Helen Lescheid

The first book was given to me, twice, by two different people familiar with our journey.

The second was written by a friend of mine who has endured far more than I have and has found 'treasures' through it all.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Adrenaline Fix

Since Papa was placed into the Hospice, I have begun to unwind. I'm exhausted and actually sleeping better than I have in a long long while. My ears are no longer on guard for sounds of movement. Apparently I'm beginning to relax enough to actually sleep.

It seems that perhaps I've been running on adrenaline for the past 2 or so years. Papa's doctor was in to see him last night and I casually made comment that I thought perhaps I'd been functioning on an adrenaline high for a while. He wisely cautioned it could easily take me 6 - 8 weeks to come down to 'normal' again.

However, it's not over yet. We continue to await Papa's final departure. He has settled now, is on some pain medication and some sedation, drifts in and out of semi coma state, and occasionally seems to recognize what is being said.

Today he told me rather sharply, "Go!" when I was apparently irritating him with my attempts to give comfort during a spell of pain and discomfort. His granddaughter, Karyn, was in the room so I came home.

I'm finding it difficult to focus on any 'work' that needs doing around the house, and there is lots of it. It's too early to go to bed. Perhaps I'll try a few rounds of computer golf.

Monday, March 02, 2009

Big, Empty House

This morning before heading off to the Hospice I found myself wandering somewhat aimlessly through the house, feeling rather disoriented. What did I need to take along and where is it?

This is the first time in nearly 40 years that it's just Stan and I living in our home, and it's a large house. Over the years we have either had children or boarders or both sharing our home. And, most recently, Papa has shared it.

It will take some time to adjust but I've been assured it won't take long. We look forward to renewing our relationship. Stan looks forward to having me travel with him on out of town contract work. I suspect housework will be minimal compared to what I am accustomed to..yeah!!!

Tsunamis and Trains

This past week has felt as if we were hit by a train and dragged on along the track. I've commented to friends that we feel as if we were engulfed by a Tsunami and as we gulped and gasped for air, realizing we hadn't actually drowned, another wave covered us.

Papa very suddenly became significantly debilitated. The ability of his legs to support his body comes and goes. One evening he attempted to get out of bed but his legs did not cooperate. It was 3 a.m. I was ‘sleeping’ in the room across the hall. His door was closed. My door was open a crack and when turning to find a more comfortable position I noticed the light on in his room but I heard no sounds. We’ve been down this road before so I just waited for either a sound that would summon me or his light to go off. I did not have to wait long for the summons. The scene that greeted me was the beginning of yet another major wave to crash over our lives.

He was slumped on the floor beside his bed, half kneeling and attempting to pull himself up. Trying to assist this process I quickly discovered my complete inability to succeed, so quickly ran to the main floor and pounded the floor with my foot to alert Stan, who was sleeping in the basement. He came and we wrestled with Papa for several minutes to get him off the floor. Absolutely not happening. We tried getting him to lie on the floor but even that did not work. What to do?

I called Home Care for advice. No answer. (I found out the following day something had malfunctioned in their phone system because I should have been able to connect to a nurse). I called Health Link and she quickly put me through to EMS. They graciously came and assisted us in getting Papa back into bed but it was a struggle even for two of them and Stan working together. During the process it was very evident that he was in significant pain, somewhere.

EMS finally left by 4:30 a.m. and encouraged us not to hesitate calling again, even in 5 minutes, should we need their further assistance. They also suggested we put some chairs around Papa’s bed to prevent him from getting out.

We put 2 chairs on the side nearest where he was lying and one on the far side of his bed. Where there’s a will there’s a guessed it, he found the open end of the bed and attempted yet again to ‘escape’. This time I came upon the scene before he managed to get his body off the bed; his legs were dangling over the end. Try as I might, I could not get him back into bed so I quickly summoned Stan yet again and we managed to get him back up, in and covered, encouraging him to sleep more. It was now 5:30 a.m.

Stan and I then sat on my bed for a few minutes looking and feeling a bit shell shocked. “We haven’t been down this road before,” he said. Indeed, it was all new, strange, and quite uncomfortable.

It was now time for Stan to prepare for work. I suggested he call in sick, but he had no way of contacting management before the store opened and he felt he needed to go. He is a man of integrity, a trait he learned from Papa.

I called Home Care as soon as I knew our nurse would be there to communicate the events of the previous night. She had been to our home two days earlier for an assessment and had asked us to get Papa’s doctor to designate him as palliative in order to put more aides into place for us. That had been accomplished and was a very necessary link to speed along our ability to give better care in our home. This nurse connected with the palliative care department of Home Care and they came later that day for another major assessment of our situation and to transition from one department to the other within Home Care. They strongly urged us to place Papa into a Hospice.

We have been very resistant to placing him anywhere although many friends and family have encouraged us to do so over the years he has been with us. Comments like, “This is so hard on you.” and “Wouldn’t it be better for him to be in a home with other people like himself?” were not uncommon. We felt it to be ‘the right and God honouring thing to do to care for him in our home until his death’. Indeed, I felt called of God to fulfill this commitment and determined to do so as best I could with His help. We also had lots of good help from Home Care and friends.

The Home Care nurses were very wise in determining that I had come to the end of my ability to continue doing this act of mercy. During the middle of the week I had received a report of xrays taken a few weeks earlier which indicated osteoarthritis was chewing me up and ready to spit me out, out of commission. Care for Papa had become suddenly very physical and I simply could no longer wrestle with him through the many duties of the day. Sleeping had also become difficult for me because of pain so I was and am, exhausted. The nurses knew this.

We agreed to place Papa into a Hospice and were told it could take 2 or 3 days till a bed was found. This was Friday afternoon. Meanwhile they would be a phone call away if we needed anything and would check in during the weekend.

Saturday morning the palliative nurse called to say there was a bed for us if we wanted it, at Agape Hospice, which had been our first choice because of closer proximity to our home. We agreed and the nurse arranged for a non emergent ambulance transfer early Saturday afternoon.

I scuttled around the house gathering things to take along and reeling from the speed with which this was all happening. It was just shy of nauseating. Then too there was the emotional stuff to process. This was not ending as we had hoped and prayed for. I still had to tell Papa that we were taking him somewhere that could care for him better. That was extremely hard and I sort of wimped out by calling Stan and asking him to tell Papa over the phone, which he graciously did. There is no way of knowing how much was comprehended. I continued to assure him that we would still be there and he would be cared for much better. I also spent a few minutes in private releasing my pent up emotions through God’s provision of tears. Our daughter, Melanie, agreed to accompany Papa in the ambulance.

As I write this, he has been in the Hospice now for 2+ days and it has not gone very well. He has been extremely pain distressed while they experiment with finding something that will give relief. The one thing that was an experience near to heaven for him was a long hot bath in a tub that he did not have to climb into and out of. I was tempted to ask if I too could have a long hot soak for stress relief.

The Hospice staff are wonderful and doing all they can to assist Papa and family through this next phase of life/death. Meanwhile, we are still helping provide 24 hour bedside companionship with the help of our former home care aides, who have become even dearer friends, and other friends too. Last night was the first night in many months that Stan and I were able to sleep well.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Noone Told Me

I wasn't told ahead of time that I would need a degree in psychiatry to lovingly give care to a family member with Alzheimer's. We appear to be living in an insane asylum these days. Nothing is as it should be. Communication is nonsensical and garbled much of the time. In spite of telling each other over and over again that it is completely ridiculous, my husband and I still catch ourselves expecting Papa to 'make sense'.

After several consecutive nights of very interrupted sleep, I feel as if I'm needing a psychiatric treatment. By 6 a.m. this morning I was fed up with redirecting Papa out of closets, away from the windows, and back into bed. Enough is enough!

I got his bath ready, then his breakfast, and by 8 a.m. we were in the car to go 'somewhere'. It had snowed overnight. The roads were slippery and clogged with morning rush hour drivers who would have cursed me had they known I was merely taking up valuable road space for recreational purposes.

We drove around for the next 2 hours, somewhat aimlessly. Papa is calm and stationary while in the car. Sometimes he comments about the snow or the traffic. Mostly he sleeps slumped over beside me.

Fighting the insanity on the roads was easier than fighting the insanity in our home.

After the caregiver arrived, I was able to shower and rest for a while. Now, feeling somewhat refreshed, I'll go do something creative to renew my spirit.

Thank you, Lord, for the wonderful caregivers who bless us with lovingly spending time with Papa so we can regain a measure of mental and emotional stability.

Monday, February 23, 2009


I just got off the treadmill. I don't often walk on it but I needed to diffuse my anger and thought walking, fast, might be a better option than pounding walls.

Papa incessantly asks for someone to take him home. My patience is exhausted with this concept. He is at home. He has lived here for 4.5 years. His room is as it was when he first moved in. We have not moved furniture. Where is 'home' if this is not it? What is he looking for that we are not providing? If only he could communicate what's on his heart. His speech has been very incoherent and largely unintelligible tonight.

Lord, have mercy. Deliver us all from this insanity.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Mixed Emotions

On Monday, Feb. 16/09, early evening, Stan and I planned to leave on a respite week. He and Papa picked up his sister, Lois, from the airport at suppertime. She would be staying at our home to care for Papa and allow me some time to rejuvenate. Lois does this several times throughout the year and I could not survive without her gracious assistance.

While we stood at the front door saying goodbye, Papa rose from his chair and headed for the closet to get his coat. We immediately knew he was planning to join us. I carefully attempted to explain that he would be staying here, in his home, and his daughter, Lois (whom we introduced several times) would be caring for him. He was unconvinced and undeterred.

Stan took off his coat and coaxed Papa to his bedroom. Both he and Lois attempted to convince him it was bedtime, this was his bedroom and he should start getting ready for bed. The bed covers were turned back and the pj's were placed on the bed beside him. He sat there still unconvinced.

After much prodding, assisting with clothing and the regular bedtime routine, Stan left Lois to finish the process so we could escape without more complications. We learned later that Papa was up no less than 7 times throughout that night.

My mixed emotions are: relieved to get away for a short while but badly that someone else has to deal with all the nonsense; and silently grieving at the confusion that plagues Papa.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Papa, It's Cold Out There!

Morning Feb 16/09:
Papa is napping in his chair and suddenly gets up intent to go somewhere. I am sitting nearby and inquire, "Where are you going."

He replies, "I don't know."

"If you don't know where you are going then perhaps you shouldn't go." I said.

He continued on to the front door determined to go 'somewhere'. It was locked and he struggled a bit to open it, eventually succeeding. I watched in silence as he proceeded out the door, without a coat, being sure he would promptly return due to the below freezing temperature.

Stan came upon this scene and saw him maneuvering down the stairs and around the front corner of the house. "What's going on?" he asked.

I filled him in saying, "He'll be right back as soon as the cold sinks in." I was unconcerned, and very wrong.

Stan dashed out the door and found him standing by the car, apparently waiting to get in and go somewhere.

Stories of people wandering off, confused, bewildered, and completely oblivious to the weather conditions, are not uncommon. How quickly this can happen. How easy for someone to slip away undetected and disappear.

I would not have left him long had he not returned, but even then, would I have known if he wandered down the street or to the back of the house, and if I went one way and he was the other, how long till he would have been rescued? Yet another wake up call for me. We must be ever vigilant, present, and proactive.

Friday, February 13, 2009

The Bigger Picture

So often we ask 'why'. Why does God keep Papa alive when there seems little quality of life left for him? We have learned over the years that 'why' is the wrong question.

Just read the Book of Job (Bible) sometime. Life dealt him a very hard blow, many times over, and in the end God revealed that there indeed was a much bigger story taking place. And, God indicated in no uncertain terms that He is sovereign. He knows what He is doing on earth, to us and through us. There is a purpose.

I am reminded of the many times I have sung songs like:

"Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee. "


"You are the Potter, I am the clay.
Mold me and make me after Thy will
While I am waiting, yielded and still."

Often we sing these songs of consecration, sometimes glibly, just mouthing words, and other times with feeling and devotion. Then, when God begins to 'mold' us we cry out in pain and ask, 'why are you doing this to me, Lord?'

I can't help but wonder if Papa is currently an instrument in God's hand, helping Him to mold and shape us to become the people of God that we long to be? After several nights of very interrupted sleep it's difficult not to cry out in pain and ask for some respite in this molding process.

Monday, February 09, 2009

When home is NOT home. February 9,2009

Today, as is becoming increasingly the case, we arrived home late afternoon from errands and I said, "We're home now. You can get out of the car." I undo Papa's seat belt and begin to exit the car. Papa does not move. I tell him once again that we are at his house and that he should get out of the car and come inside.

I take stuff into the house, leaving the front door wide open for him, but realize after a short time that he is not coming in. I go to look what could be the hold up and find Papa standing in front of the car, apparently waiting for me. Again I reiterate that we are at home and he should come inside.

He follows me but is unconvinced this is home. We attempt to dialogue, me trying to convince him this is his home and he trying to convince me it is not.

We have learned that taking Papa on a tour of the house and pointing out familiar things to him usually works. Today it did not. He recognized his wedding picture and a very old family picture as well as a little candy basket on his dresser....'just like the ones at his house'.

We have some tea and then he wants to 'go home', becoming mildly agitated that I'm resisting.
He goes to the front closet, puts on his coat and shoes and prepares to leave. I've lost this battle of persuasion.

At times like this we oblige him with a short car ride and then again communicate that "We are home now" upon our return. I decide to take a short grocery shopping trip and purchase a quick fix for supper since I dislike cooking and it was already into the supper hour. Bless the person who created the ready-to-eat BBQ chickens at the super markets!

Upon our return home this time, Papa did not argue the point of being home, perhaps because I had distracted his attention to the concept of supper and he, like many people I know, has a real weakness when it comes to food.

Thankfully we got through this situation without any further challenges. And, to let you all know I'm no angel (contrary to some people's opinion), the frustration level ran pretty high during the failed attempts to convince Papa that he was indeed home. On the way out for our little diverted shopping trip I actually slammed the door. I could justify this action by telling you the door had been broken a few years ago and in order to get a good solid closure it is necessary to slam the door, which in fact is so, but reality is that slamming the door helped me release some of the steam that was building. Even my mild mannered husband has been heard slamming the door to release frustrations with Papa. We'll not be replacing the door as long as it still has a very useful purpose beyond the usual.

I am reminded that scripture says, "in your anger, do not sin" (Ps 4:4, Eph 4:26). The error we often fall into is thinking it wrong to express negative emotion. The sin occurs depending on how we express that emotion not in allowing the emotion.

It was somewhat amusing to hear Papa comment all the way to the grocery store about how the streets and various buildings looked just like the ones where he lived.

Saturday, February 07, 2009

Some Reasons for Taking This Journey

A dear friend and home-care aide gave me a little book today titled: Precious Lord, Take My Hand - Meditations for Caregivers by Shelly Beach. Here is a paragraph that resonates with me:

"The work of care giving should be reserved for the truly courageous or the blindly naive ( I think we fall somewhere between those two). It is soul-crunching, spirit-bending, body-wearying work because it is redemptive work. In care giving we reflect Christ's love: unconditional love in ways that will either change us or break us." pg 25

We have experienced lots of changes to the way we are prone to rush through life. We are learning how to put aside our agenda to accommodate Papa's life which has no agenda of his making. Sometimes that is very frustrating because life must go on, things need doing, or do they? We often need to stop and examine what is so important to us at the moment and ask, 'does this really matter right now? Can it wait? Does it even need doing at all?'

We are continually learning anew to live for the moment and not be anxiously planning out the month, week, or day. Yes, we do work a calendar and make 'tentative' plans but we always keep in mind that at any moment our plans could be and often are, interrupted or changed. This has not been an easy lesson and I don't pretend to have mastered it. I hope we are getting better at it.

One more quote, from A Promise Kept by Robertson McQuilkin:

"Ours is a day of passionate pursuit of self-fulfillment. And the folk wisdom of twentieth-century America holds that fulfillment can be found only in freedom. So, if some responsibility or commitment, some relationship or value shackles, you have a moral obligation to yourself to break free.

But it's a fantasy. That doorway to freedom and fulfillment may turn out to be the doorway to a stronger imprisonment. I've watched in sadness as many friends and acquaintances march through that doorway. The new bondage may be subterranean, below the level of consciousness even. But such a person has broken one set of shackles only to shut herself or himself off from the soaring freedom of experiencing God's highest and best. He who preserves his life, affirming himself, will lose it all, said Jesus. Only the one who says no to self-interest for Christ and the gospel cause can ever find the treasure of true life - freedom and fulfillment in Christ. But we don't seem to get it." pgs 34,35

I'm praying that we are 'getting it' and I can't help sensing that this care giving journey we are on is but a piece of a much bigger picture.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

The Journey Begins

My mother-in-law died in 1999. My father-in-law's care fell to his daughter, Lois, at that time, which she willingly accepted. Papa shared a home with Lois and her family in the Fraser Valley of B.C. however most of the care was in her hands. Plus she worked part time.

Papa loved to putter in the yard and go for walks. He often took the dog for walks. Lois cooked the main meal, drove him to appointments after he gave up driving, and played table games with him. He was still able to manage most of his day independently, but as the dementia escalated walking the neighborhood became an exercise in getting home, which increasingly needed the assistance of strangers or the police.

By 2003, Lois became overwhelmed with the care giving responsibilities and it was decided Papa would come to live with us, his son and I, in Calgary, AB. for 4 months during the spring and summer, giving Lois some much needed respite.

Papa has a very gentle spirit and did not pose significant challenges that summer. He loved to go walking and though he insisted he could do so on his own, he often got lost. The new home proved challenging at first because he couldn't remember which was his room and occasionally walked into someone else's room. We posted a notice on his door saying, "This is Rudy's Room" with a picture of him when he was considerably younger. That helped most of the time.

Once while eating in a restaurant he needed the bathroom, so I pointed to where they were and then watched in horror as he promptly walked into the women's bathroom. I rushed after him and directed him to the men's room, realizing that more specific guidance would be necessary in future. Fortunately noone had been in the women's bathroom so no harm done.

In June of 2004, Lois brought him for a 2 week visit, with the specific goal of discussing and deciding Papa's future. Would he come and live with us full time from here on or would he be placed in a Seniors care centre? None of us wanted to put him in a care facility so I quite my job and in September, my husband rented a cargo van, drove to B.C. to get his dad and some of Papa's basic belongings, things that were familiar to him and would hopefully make the adjustment to our home a little easier.

There were many times Papa commented about 'his house' and that he wasn't living there. It caused him some distress. We attempted as best we could to explain that Lois could no longer care for him and that we wanted to care for him. Two of Lois' daughters plus some of my children lived in Calgary providing several more family members to assist from time to time.

And so our journey began. Papa had been diagnosed with dementia of the Alzheimer's type prior to his coming to live with us. Both Lois and ourselves had connected with the Alzheimer's Society for information and support. It has been invaluable. They have been very supportive and encouraging, always available with appropriate advice and encouragement as needs arose. Home Care has also been an incredible resource assisting in many ways as we have walked the road of caring for a loved one in our home.

This blog is the story of our journey. It may look different than others who travel the same road. May you find encouragement for your journey as you walk with us.

People have occasionally challenged us to consider putting Papa in a home because Life with Papa is definitely not easy. We do not presume to be heroic. We simply do what we believe to be the right thing to do for our loved one. Papa tenderly nursed his dying wife right to the very end of her life. Does he not also deserve similar treatment? We continue on with God's help.