It’s been a year since I’ve regularly posted here. After Mom’s death I needed time to process. Grieve. Reflect. Rest. I didn’t intend to pull back this long. One thing that has drawn me back: I’ve wanted to tell the story of how amazingly God provided for us during her final three years fraught with vascular dementia.

I’ve also wanted to encourage others on an all-too-common yet nearly impossible journey. Nothing really prepares you for the unimaginable twists and turns of caring for someone who has always been so sharp and fiercely independent, who begins to need help doing her laundry, and even taking her medicines. Especially when they insist on remaining a thousand miles away.

Just when you’ve figured out how to respond to hallucinations or accusations of stealing, another unthinkable challenge comes up. But let me tell you how God shepherded us through the Valley of the Shadow…

The last 20 months have been a tale of two cities for us—”the best of times and the worst of times.”

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