hands

We have a super-sweet old couple living next door. I go over for a few minutes weeknights to help the cheerful but frail old lady lovingly hoist her husband frm his chair into his bed. Over the last year and a little bit he's gone from being able to walk with a walker with jus some help up from his wife and a bit of balance to needing more and more help (now with two people lifting) and being less and less able to move his feet to having to rearrange the furniture to get the bed really close to his chair to him no longer being able to use his walker at all. Now Jean and I just kind of pick him up, swivel him in place and sit him down on the bed. No steps required (or even possible). Getting out of the bed helps him avoid bed sores, so she dilligently gets him up into his chair each morning with the help of a different neighbor and back into bed each night with my help. On the weekends her daughter and son-in-law help. Coriel usually goes over with me to help and Jim loves to see her and Jean playing silly together (I love it too and am amazed at Jean's energy and cheer, since she's almost 90). She'll pick C up and give her a big old hug and smooch and doesn't mind when she gets barreled into at high speed for a collision-hug. She dances around to play ring around the rosy (regional variant - she says kitty-cat instead of ashes). She is constantly sending home treats for us (usually way more than we can eat or want our kid to consume, but she always insists and you don't dare say no because she is just so happy to be giving. And lots of the stuff is home-made (including ome really good rocky-road fudge and a variety of cakes). Did I mention she's frail? Mid last year she broke her arm trying to lift Jim up to his walker or perhaps try to jkeep him from falling, I don't recall. Anyway, it was after that that she started needing help since she couldn't lift much with that arm. Actually, she didn't know it was broken for a long time, she just used it less. Eventually a doctor x-rayed it and told her it had broken, but she was fortunate that it had healed pretty straight. But that arm still isn't very strong. But she never complains about it. In fact, her amazing cheerful soldiering on is one of he great blessings I get from going over there. And seeing Coriel helping jim get ready for us to help him and pretending that either her or me _is_ Jim and needs help walking - that's very heart-warming as well.

Tonight I helped clip his fingernails for probably the third or fourth time. His arthritis is getting worse, just like his diabetes symptoms are progressing. In this case it means that his left hand is permantly curled into a claw-like fist. He can use his thumb and index finger on that hand a little bit to grasp or hold small things or to push up his glasses. But his other three fingers are always pressed hard into the palm of his hand. It hurts and he cries out in anything tugs on those fingers. Which really makes it hard to get a fingernail clipper in place and to do a good job. Fortunately, the Lord has prepared me by giving me two small girls' fingernails to clip when they were squirming or clenching their fists or tring to claw me with their free hand. Jim doesn't do any of that except for clenching three fingers on one hand - so that's relatively easy : ) tonight we also worked on cleaning out the accumulated grime that accompanies the circumstances. It reminds me of Tiffany Aching, although more rewarding than she found it (partially due to differences in scale). Anyway, anytime I work on his nails, Jean insists on paying me well for having done it. She absolutely insists, even though I would happily do it for free (most of the time happily, sometimes a bit less, and I tend to have to wash my hands a few times after I'm done). I feel like what King Benjamin talked about - no sooner do you give service than the Lord immediately blesses you (and so does Jean : )). So although cleaning Jim's hands isn't pleasant (ok, it's actually yuck), I go over there and just want to be better. I hope that when I'm 90 my hands are as loving as Jean's hands are today.