New Mercies We See

This morning, I was thrilled when Julie, our worship leader, invited the congregation to sing the favorite old hymn, Great is Thy Faithfulness.

My friend, Patty, and I usually tell each other when we sing it in our separate worship services, so I thought I would be texting her to say that we sang it. Instead, I’m sharing it with my readers.

“We’re going to sing all three stanzas,” Julie said. And then the pianist played through the chorus as we prepared to sing. Of course, Husband sang the words to it as she played.

He doesn’t sing or whisper in a quiet voice, and when he got to the last two measures, where the words are “Lord, unto me,” he changed the words, ”Sing all three verses.”

I laughed loudly and continued to laugh as the others sang “Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father.”  I mean it; I laughed a full chuckle and my shoulders shook. It was a splendid moment.

It was all I could do to concentrate on “There is no shadow of turning with Thee.”

Husband ignored me and sand with gusto. He glanced at me as if to say “What?”

When he gets into a song of any genre, he sings with gusto as if throwing his full soul into the words and the music itself.

This is the man I once knew, many years ago, before depression robbed him of spontaneous, impulsive retorts and comments and humor. “Thy compassions, they fail not. As thou hast been thou forever wilt be.”

It’s been several months since this side of him as shown its face.  Is it the new antidepressant? He claims he doesn’t feel much different since he began taking it this week, but I see glimpses that indicate something positive is happening.

If it’s not the new medication, possibly it was the clear bright white sunshine that accompanied us to church.  I hope it is a combination of both.

The song was perfect for today’s moments: “Summer and winter and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above join with all nature in manifold witness to thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.”

If the depression lifts even a small amount, it is a reason to rejoice and thank God for our tremendous psychiatrist and the chemical knowledge known to raise the natural compounds in his brain.

But if it doesn’t lift much, there is always reason to thank God for the doctor and God’s generous goodness to us. “Great is they faithfulness. Morning by morning new mercies I see.”

Today’s scene was a new mercy for the day. “All I have needed, thy hand hath provided.”

That’s it in a nutshell. All we have needed, God is faithful and willing to supply it. And that can mean a quick impulsive humor or the joy of a hearty laugh.

I share today’s moment for all my friends who are persons with ADHD and who also struggle with depression of any degree. At McNay & Voth ADHD Services, we desire to encourage persons with ADHD and their families in their daily struggles. We invite you to contact us, so we can help you identify a moment God has provided for you.

 

 

 

My Mannequin Daughter

“Where’s Baby Sis?” my Mother seemed in a panic. She worried about losing one of my children in the shopping mall every time we went shopping with her.

She referred to my youngest child, my beautiful, creative kid with ADHD, who was about seven years of age at the time.

“Don’t worry,” I assured Mom. “She’s right here.” I pointed to the mannequin display in the center of the wide mall hall.

“Where? I don’t see her.” Mother continued in her scared voice.

“Here,” I said as I walked over to the display and pointed to my child.

Mother began to laugh with relief and with totally surprised amusement. Baby Sis stood completely still, posed like the mannequin.

On the dais or raised platform, my skinny kid with long legs and huge green eyes had positioned herself with bent arms and legs to look like the figure with no head. She only moved her eyes a slight bit as people walked past her. Otherwise, she was perfectly still.

It would have been difficult for my hyper child to pose like that for any length of time, but she managed to do it.

This was not the first or last time she attempted such a trick, but each time I laughed as if I had not seen it before. I still laugh when I recall how she looked.

“Do you remember when Baby Sis would be the mannequin?” Oldest Daughter asked me a few days ago.

Then we both literally burst out in laughter.

“Oh, definitely! She bent her arms, twisted her neck and head, and stood there perfectly still. I would see other shoppers break out in giggles when they past her, but she never broke her stance.”

After nearly 25 years, we remember with delight the many antics this classic ADHD child thought of and acted out on impulse.

Oldest Daughter recalled the cholla cactus we brought home from New Mexico as we traveled in a small motor home. Husband dug it up from the side of the road and placed it in a huge bucket near the back of the vehicle. We cautioned our small child to stay away from the thorns, but the temptation was too great.

Two hours later we heard her scream loudly as she cried, “That sticker bit me!”

My older two children hollowed with laughter, and so did I after I made certain she was not injured badly.

“I told you not to touch it,” I reminded.

“But I wanted to see it,” she justified herself.

“Seeing and touching are two different things.”

“No, Mommy. I can’t see it without touching,” she explained in her most serious voice.

She assured me she had seen enough of the strange plant to last a lifetime.

Even now, Oldest Daughter said, “We knew it was a matter of time. Crown Prince and I were just waiting to see how long it would take her to get stuck with a thorn.” And then she laughed again with tears of amusement streaming down her cheeks.

“Her impulsivity led her to do some really interesting things,” I agreed.

“Still does,” remarked her sister. “She makes me laugh every time we are together.”

“She’s like your Dad in that regard. And she has it down to an art: quick comments that literally zing me. She does it with a straight face, just as he does.” I almost bragged.

“Yes,” agreed her sister. “Remember when we went tanning last weekend? My sister waited with me while you finished. I whispered that the girl at the counter seemed rather dull-witted. I mean she just did not come across as bright at all.”

“What did your sister say or do?”

“She turned toward me in a half-second, pulled her lips into that characteristic expression of disdain, and without missing a beat she made one of her comments.”

“Did I tell you MENSA has more than 50,000 members in the United States alone?” she asked seriously.

“I’ll tell you, Mom, I did not expect her to say something like that. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me laughing .”

If I had heard, I would have known Baby Sis said or did something impulsively.

 

 

 

Depression Isn’t Straight Forward and Other Quotes

Sometimes I flutter like a humming bird or hovercraft when I see Husband retreat to a dark room or space where he can be all alone,

My usual and sterile question is always: “How do you feel today?”

And he will respond: “I don’t feel well.”

Of course, because I am really quite limited in responses, I continue with: “Are you hurting somewhere? Is it your body or your spirit?”

“It is in my spirit,” he tells me.

Will Rogers once said: “Never miss a good chance to shut up.”  However, it seems I miss many good changes. I keep on asking invasive questions.

“What do you want me to do for you?”

Samuel Johnson, 1709-1784, is one of the most quoted English writers after William Shakespeare. Personally, I find Johnson easier to understand. In his wise way, he wrote: “People need to be reminded more often than they need to be instructed.”

And I suggest this is true when it comes to depression. People who are depressed need to be reminded that they are valuable.

So how can I remind Husband he is the most valuable of all people to me?  A hamburger from his favorite fast-food restaurant? Sitting with him through the umpteenth baseball game on TV? Sharing chatter I learned from our friends? At times, I am not certain. To quote Will Rogers again, I must remember that “when you find yourself in a hole, quit digging.”

Someone sent me this quote from Stephen Fry: “If you know someone who is depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn’t a straightforward response to a bad situation, depression just is, like the weather. Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It is hard to be a friend to someone who is depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.”

Like other persons who have depressed family members, I really do want to be a friend to Husband.

And as I mentioned before, I think humor is one way to demonstrate friendship. Mark Twain believed humor is humankind’s greatest blessing, and he said: “Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.”

One of my daughters cautions me not to always sound like an expert, even though I am one. So let me make this suggestion without sounding like a know-it-all. Have you laughed today? Remember that laughter relieves physical tension and stress. It boosts the immune system, decreases stress hormones, and improves your resistance to disease. Laughter releases endorphins, and promotes an overall sense of well-being and can even temporarily relieve pain. As an added bonus, it protects the heart as it improves the function of blood vessels and increases blood flow, which can help protect you.

“What do you think about laughter and humor?” I recently asked Husband.

He literally rolled his eyes upward: “It is necessary to raise your sense of well-being.”

“We haven’t laughed much lately,” I commented.

He smiled and laughed at that comment.

But we have spent many hours sitting together in silence or in brief conversations. I have held his hand, or brought him a glass of ice water. I know those are little things; I am trying to be his friend.

This weekend, we watched a show on life in Hawaii where we discovered that the Monk Seal is the only one native to Hawaii. Husband immediate response: “Does that mean they are Catholic or Buddhist?”  We laughed at a tiny piece of silliness, but at least we laughed.

 

 

Communication Social Skills

Nearly 30 years ago our family learned sign language in order to communicate with a neighbor’s child. It has proven to be one of the best skills we have enjoyed as a family.  A variety of sign languages are used throughout the United States, and sign language can be considered the fourth most used language in our country, especially when talking about American Sign Language. One of the neatest aspects of knowing sign language is how to use body, space, manual expression, and facial expression.

Husband uses sign language quite beautifully, and for many years served as an interpreter to deaf members of our church congregation.

Our family uses it when we cannot talk in church or other places such as school meetings when we poked fun among ourselves at a school board member/mother in our community. No, don’t feel sorry for her. She was offensive to many people in our school community; we just had the means to talk about her behind her back in front of her face.

Call it tension release.

Yesterday we had another great opportunity for tension release, only this time it was another customer in the hair salon where we go for haircuts.

Our stylist cut Husband’s hair before starting in on me. We were the only ones in the salon expect for another stylist who was waiting for her next customer.

When he bounded through the door, we all knew it. He came with his slightly self-focused smile, a head-full of bushy curls, and his loud voice.

I happened to turn toward where Husband sat waiting for me and asked “ADHD?” in sign language.

With squinted eyes, Husband watched the new customer closely for a while without making a comment.

Customer said, “Yes, it has gotten long and curly. She wants you to take it to a fall-weather cut. Trim this part of my beard. She wants me to have a goatee.”

Within two minutes we heard about the impending anniversary celebration and the party their grown children planned for them.  OK. We had no problem with that conversation, although it was a bit loud.

In answer to his stylist’s question, Customer soon said, “We are also going to New Orleans to the French Quarter. She has never been there. I have many times because my brother is a performer, and he has often done shows in the French Quarter. I flew down to be with him there several times.”

We learned more about his brother. “He travels all over the USA, but his home is in California. He is 66 years old, but he still has to work. Well, you can imagine how it is to own a business such as that.”

I had turned several times to observe Husband’s face. He continued to squint. He still had not answered my question.

Customer had not stopped talking about She and about the impending celebration and of course, his brother. Husband still had not answered my question.

Customer continued, “Yeah, I told my brother about this trip, and he is happy for us. He offered to meet us there. That was a neat suggestion.”

I looked over at Husband who crossed his arms.  He made a fist with his left hand and swiped across it with his right palm. Then he circled the tip of his nose with the right fist. My stylist saw us. “I see you are talking? What did he just say?”

“Full of shit,” I replied. Tony burst out laughing.

Without taking much breath, Customer said, “So I mentioned it to her. The idea didn’t go over very well, actually. She said that she does not want my brother along with us while we are there to celebrate our anniversary.”

He was quite for a few thoughtful moments before continuing. “Usually I stay with his group when I go because the cost of hotels in New Orleans is really expensive. Anything over $100 per night is too much. I am only there to bathe and sleep. She made the reservations for this trip. I told her not to tell me how much the room will cost her.”

I glanced at Husband who laid his right arm on the left. With one hand he put up two fingers like bull horns. I began to laugh before he even wiggled the fingers of the other hand. So did Tony. “I can tell that one. Bullshit, right?”

 

Celebrating Another Anniversary

We had not really celebrated when our second anniversary on the actual date. My Dad died three weeks before, and my Mom came to stay with us a few weeks. On the actual anniversary, we took her with us to a nice restaurant.

For me that would have been enough, but I am blessed that Husband is a true romantic.

Weeks later, Husband suggested we try a real celebration with dinner at a favorite dreamy spot.

“Let’s go the Holiday Inn Plaza downtown,” he suggested. “We can have salads and split-pea soup.”

I rubbed the baby bump that seemed to be growing every day and thought of the first-born child we expected in less than one month.

“I think I can handle that,” I cautioned. “Foods like that should be OK for me and Bingo.”  I referred to the nickname we affectionately called our child.

“I remember the night I took you there on our first date, the second time around.”  He tends to treat such memories with undue emphasis on the feeling and with excessive nostalgia, but that is fine with me. I love being the focus of his feeling. “I remembering being wound-up with the thought of us being together again; I really wanted to take you to a nice place.”

And it was a nice place for the early 1970’s. The backs on the wicker chairs were exceptionally tall and curved toward each other, making a canopy over the table. Each setting was private and cozy.

“I like the service there,” I admitted, still thinking if salad and pea soup would settle well with my condition. “I think there will be room for my belly.”

“Afterwards we can drive around on a lengthy tour of the city and county just as we did on that other night.” He looked toward the ceiling where he viewed the vision of a long car ride.

“One or two differences between now and then,” I reminded him. “I was not pregnant and needing to stop for a bathroom, and we had not seen each other for several months. Now I have to go frequently, and we have been talking every day for over two years.”

“ Good. You like the idea.”

We chose a lovely fall night that had a bit of a nip in the air. I clearly remember wearing the cape I made to accommodate my expanding body. I flapped along like a bat on growth hormones.

The Plaza was built with a kiva-like lower level leading to the restaurant, symbolizing our Native American roots in Wichita. I handled the steps well without having to actual crawl down them, and we stepped inside the warmth of the lobby with anticipation.

Husband wore the purple denim jacket I made for him our first Christmas. “I like that you wore that jacket. It still looks very nice on you.”

“My wife made it for me.”  He said it with pride.

Settling at a table with memories rushing through his head forced Husband’s brain to race like a car.

“Did I ever tell you what I did after that first date? I went home and told my sister Debby that I was going to marry you.”

“You did? That was quite an assumption.”

“And she said, ‘I didn’t know you have been seeing Atha.’ ”

“Oh, I haven’t. This is the first time I have seen her in over a year. But I am going to marry her.”

About that time the waitress came to take our beverage order. Still wrapped in his euphoria, Husband leaned across the table with a huge smile and called me by my maiden name.

“So, tell me, Miss Simers, what have you been doing with yourself lately?”

The waitress looked dumbfounded at me, and I smiled in return.

Then, I learned back in my chair and began patting my huge maternity belly.

Startled, Husband grabbed the cloth napkin on his left, opened it, and fanned his face vigorously. The red color crawled up his neck and across his face.

We laughed heartedly, and the waitress laughed with us.

He was so embarrassed, he couldn’t order dinner, so I did it for the two of us. “Coffee for him, ice tea for me, two chef salads and two bowls of split-pea soup. We are celebrating our second wedding anniversary.”