STORYTIME TAPESTRY

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

Special Treat ??“ Janet Seever

May 4, 2005

*Dear Carol,
*

*Thanks so much for the note. You asked how I am doing. In answer to your
question, I'm sharing my story below. My husband had a very large stroke
in November, so we are facing many challenges ahead of us. "Holding on
to Hope" was written in Feb., but perhaps it can be an encouragement to
others. My husband is making continuous progress, for which I am thankful.
*

*Blessings,
Janet Seever
 
*Holding on to Hope*
By Janet Seever

???Woe.??? He says the word as his blue eyes peer intently into mine.

???No.??? I repeat the word. ???Watch where I put my lips and teeth, Dennis.???

???No.??? This time it sounds much more like what it was meant to be. We
repeat it about a dozen times and go on to the next word.

???Why,??? I say, exaggerating the position of my mouth and he mimics me. We
do the next six words, a dozen times each, and then flip the page over
and begin on the phrases.

It??™s been three months now since a very large stroke on November 13
reduced my fifty-eight-year-old husband from the independent man he once
was to someone dependent on others. He once rode a motorcycle and was an
avid reader in his spare time. He often visited several elderly shut-ins
and was building a large model railroad layout in our basement. He once
worked with numbers for a living.

Paralyzed on his right side, he is now in a wheelchair. Today he neither
reads nor writes. He speaks in ???sentences,??? but only he knows the
meaning of his speech. I guess at what he is trying to say. His hand
gestures give me a clue, and we daily go through a guessing game to try
to communicate.

However, he can think. For that I am so thankful. He knows what??™s going
on, can tell time, remembers friends and events from the past, and knows
what month it is. He plays checkers and he built and painted a birdhouse
with is left hand, quite a feat for a right-handed person. I am thankful
for the intensive therapy his has been receiving on the stroke unit of
the hospital.

Now he is trying to tell me something in his unintelligible language,
his eyes intently fixed on mine as he leans forward in the wheelchair.
Hand gestures express what his words can??™t.

???Is it about me???™ I ask, starting the question-and-answer communication,
to which he responds, ???No.??? He says ???no??? easily when it is spontaneous
and not part of his word list. Spontaneous speech is stored in a
different part of the brain.

???Is it about you???? A nod. ???Does it have something to do with coming
home???? Another nod. I??™m getting lucky. I get out the pencil and paper,
doing a sketch. ???This is where the ramp needs to go.??? I??™m still guessing
as he puts on his reading glasses and looks at the paper.

A few days ago, our son, Tim, visited Dennis in his hospital room.
Seated in his wheelchair, Dennis unfastened his seat belt. He stood up
and leaned against the wall, grinning broadly. Triumph! Then he sat
down. He took great delight in showing Tim what he is able to do. He now
does a shuffle walk with the aid of a couple therapists, making progress
one step at a time.

A while ago, a friend of mine referred to Dennis' stroke as a tragedy.
I'm sure most people would think of strokes as tragedies. I thought
about it for a while, and concluded I would rather see it as a major
/challenge/ in our lives. "Tragedy" looks backward at all he has lost,
and he has lost so much. However, "challenge" looks forward to what
Dennis can regain if he works hard enough at it. "Tragedy" speaks of
defeat, but "challenge" focuses on hope for the future, and we are
holding on to hope.

Dear elderly friends in Australia wrote to us immediately when they
heard of Dennis' stroke. One of the Bible verses they included to
encourage us was Romans 15:13. A couple days later my sister sent us the
same verse, and previously I had written it down myself. What's the
chance of all three of us picking the same verse? I??™ve concluded that
the Lord wants me to focus on it. Romans 15:13 reads: "May the God of
all hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that
you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." We're still
holding on to hope.

Did this stroke catch me by surprise? Not exactly. It??™s as if the Lord
had been preparing me for it six months before it happened. Only I
didn??™t know ahead of time exactly what some of the things I was
experiencing meant.

 From May to November, I had been playing a CD of a quartet while I was
driving our car. One of the most meaningful songs starts out ???Jesus, I
am resting, resting, in the joy of what thou art.??? The other one which I
listened to over and over again, often pushing the repeat button, was
???Faithful One??? by Brian Doerksen, which starts out ???Faithful One, so
unchanging??? and has the following words in the chorus: ???You are my rock
in times of trouble, You lift me up when I fall down. All through the
storm Your love is the anchor, My hope is in You alone.??? When I was
listening to it in past months, I never knew why it was so meaningful. I
wasn??™t going through a ???storm??? at the time. . . but now it??™s clear to me
in the midst of the current storm. Jesus is indeed my Rock and His love
is my anchor.

In October, I began sending out our fall newsletter. (We??™re involved in
mission work and send out newsletters several times a year.) On one page
was a picture of Dennis sitting next to his father, who has Parkinson's
and is in a wheelchair. One day as I was writing a note on one of the
letters in a space a few inches below the photo, I looked at the photo,
and a thought popped into my mind: "Dennis looks like he should be in a
wheelchair too." Now where did that weird thought come from? Was it
because there is a close family resemblance with his dad? Was it the
expression on his face? I quickly searched the other photos in the
letter. Did he look unwell in any of them? Maybe a bit older. . . But
why the strange thought about a wheelchair? Over the next four weeks the
thought came back again and again as I continued to write notes on the
letters. I looked at the photo many times??”just what was I seeing? I
finally finished sending out all of the letters on Nov. 11, two days
before Dennis' stroke.

Because I often go to a ladies' gym at 6 a.m. to exercise, I often would
go to bed earlier than Dennis. If I was half asleep when Dennis came to
bed, I would reach out my hand and squeeze his. One night, about three
weeks before his stroke, I thought, "Don't ever take this for granted.
Some day his hand might not be there to squeeze." After that, I was more
attentive to the fact that life is filled with uncertainty. A few days
after his stroke, one of the first means of communication was when
Dennis squeezed my hand.

In these three ways, I believe the Lord was preparing me for what was
ahead. But it was only /after/ Dennis had his stroke that I saw the
significance of each thing that happened.

Today is Valentine??™s Day. Our daughter, Rachel, ever the romantic,
reminded Dennis what day it was when she visited him at the hospital
this morning. She accompanied him down to the hospital gift shop, where
he selected a rose and lovely card for me. He signed the card by
printing his name, which took great effort. Later this afternoon, tears
filled my eyes when I arrived at the hospital and saw what he had gotten
for me.

As I drove the eleven miles home from the hospital today, I noticed the
days are getting a bit longer. It??™s still winter up here in Calgary, but
we get a taste of ???spring??? each time a warm Chinook wind comes through
and melts the snow. There will be changes ahead before too long.

There will be changes ahead for Dennis too. Someday he will be coming
back home. What he is today won??™t be the person he will be three months
from now, six months from now, or a year from now. How far he will
progress is anyone??™s guess.

In the meantime, it??™s one day at a time, one step at a time??”not just for
Dennis, but for me as well. Life isn??™t easy, but in the storms of life,
I know the Lord is in control. Our hope truly is in Him.

?© Janet Seever, 2005 _jseever1 @shaw.ca _

The mother of two adult children, Janet Seever lives with her husband in Calgary, Alberta, where she writes for Word Alive magazine. She has had a variety of articles and short stories published in magazines and on Internet. You can find more of Janet??™s writing at www.inscribe.org/janetseever and reach her at jseever1 @shaw.ca