OBSERVATORY @laurencodyblog - Tumblr Blog

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When you have so much to do, and not enough hours in the day. And there isn't enough energy to spread out over the hours of which you already don't have enough. Then add the lack of motivation to stir up the waning energy to eek out some semblance of productivity out of the already not enough hours in the day....

So I think I'll eat ice cream and watch crime shows. I do have enough time for that. :)

#happyfriday #dvriswaiting #breyersbaby

Today Is the 9th anniversary of moving our parents into assisted living/ memory care. So much has happened since that day, and we faced situations and events that we never knew we would, and survived trauma that we never knew we could.

They are both safe and whole in the arms of Jesus, now. And my brother and I can rest knowing that we did the best we could to honor and care for them during their last years on this earth. The journey had difficult twists and turns, but grace met us head-on every single step of the way.

What a legacy they left for us.

What a testimony that remains.

What a wonderful, merciful Savior.

I could never thank Him enough for those last 5 years…

If you know me, then you know that I am a follower of Jesus Christ. If you know me, then you know I have served the Lord since I was a young girl, raised in a Christian home, and worshipped in and served my local church as far back as I can remember.

You know me.

You also know, that I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, nor will I ever be. My eternal soul is secure.

I am 100 % certain, that when my life on earth is over, that I will spend eternity with my Lord.

Right now, in this blip of time, it is legal for me to make this statement. Right now, I will likely get numerous ‘amens’, ‘likes’ and ‘loves’ to this post.

But the day will come that these statements will no longer be legal. Freedom of speech and religion will be gone.

Right now, there are days when my greatest annoyance is a gnat in my lip gloss.

But those days are running out.

Father God, more than anything, I want to be true to You. I want to be a light that leads the lost to You. I want to stand firm and unashamed in my faith no matter the consequence.

All these things could happen in my lifetime, and I’ve never been more aware of that than now.

I love the Lord God with all my heart, soul and strength. And I love my neighbor as myself.

Lord, please heal

Our land.

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻😢♥️

The last several days, I've been sharing posts I've made for Father's Days past. If you are even a casual acquaintance in my life, then you should be well aware of how much I love, respect and admire my father. As he struggles with the continued decline of a most cruel disease, I am especially blessed today. He remembers me. 9 years after his initial diagnosis, and he still remembers me. This is significant because, if the Alzheimer's was progressing according to research, he should have lost recognition of all of his loved ones (with the exception of one or two) a few years ago. But being the loving and godly father he is.... he still recognizes his daughter and son.

He doesn't know our names. There are days when we aren't sure if he knows just how he is connected to us, but he always greets us with a beaming smile, big daddy hugs and lots of love.

He no longer recognizes himself as he is now. If you show him pictures of him as a young boy, he knows exactly who he is. But any photo of him as an older man.... he sees a stranger. He doesn't recognize his own reflection in a mirror at all. Sometimes he sees the reflection as a friend, and sometimes as a foe. But even if I am looking in the mirror with him, he knows me.... but not himself.

We lose more of him every day.

But he will not lose us.

Even though he won't be able to read this post, and even though he won't understand why he is being celebrated today, I want to wish my Daddy an amazing Father's Day.

And he won't know tomorrow what has happened today.

But today, we celebrate who he is and who he was. The memories of today are for us, not him.

Today is precious.

#holdon

#daddysgirl

#honoryourfather

This picture says it all. My Pop kissing my sweet Daddy goodbye (for now) a day or two before he died. These two had been friends bound at the heart before I was ever born. True love like brothers and both of them respected the other one like no one else. Pop took losing Daddy almost as hard as we did, and he still can’t talk about him very much at all without bursting into tears.

At the time of this photo, I never dreamed a few years later, our healthy, strong Pop would have a massive stroke and need more care than Granny could handle on her own.

And I find myself in a very familiar situation…Being a caregiver to a wonderful father. And I learned how to do that from the very best.

I wish I could be with you on Father’s Day, Daddy. Missing you hasn’t gotten easier even after 4 years. But I know you’d be proud to know that if I can’t spend this day with you, I’ll be spending it with your best friend.

And I promise you…

I will take care of him…

Just like I took care of you.

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I miss you so much, but I will see you again soon.

And when that day comes, we’ll never be separated again.

#daddysgirlforever

#whatadaythatwillbe

#fathersday2022

His feet are so ticklish that giggles and squirms when I clip his toenails.

He laughs and sticks his tongue out at me when I clean out his ears.

He winks at me when I brush his hair.

He listens intently when I sing to him, trying to sing along.

He holds my face in his chubby hands and gives me sloppy forehead kisses.

He says in a little boyish, squeaky voice…….. “I love you…”

Looking into his deep blue eyes while fighting back tears in mine, I say, “I love you too, Daddy”.

#fathersday2016 #alzheimersawareness #neverforget #makingmemories

Chatting with some coworkers today and laughing about my overstock of antique furniture and china and my obsession with those types of things. Mama treasured her pretties, most likely because she grew up during the great depression and they literally had nothing. I think she had 1 or 2 rag dolls that Grannie made her, and never had any other toys her whole childhood.

Those things were special to her, so they are special to me.

I remember sorting through their things after they died, and I just couldn’t part with a whole lot of it. The memories of that house and the only people that ever lived in it….

The linens, and vintage dishes carefully stacked in the cupboards…

The swept up pile of sawdust in Daddy’s shop that never made it to the trash bin…

We spent 6 months going through that house. In the end, we laughed more than we cried.❤️

Someday in the not too distant future, my grandchildren will be going through my things.

It will take months as well, I’m sure. And they will know how much I treasured those things. Not because of the material value, but because I treasured the ones that left them behind.

Londyn will be ordering around the other girls, Presli will be telling memories non- stop of everything she picks up, Alex will be quiet and sullen in the shop with Papaw’s things.

Turning 60 tomorrow has made me reflect so much as I embark upon another decade.

I can’t possibly be ‘middle-aged’ any longer.

So I’m entering this decade full steam ahead, focused on the important things, not sweating the unimportant things, and praying that I can build my life so when that day comes…

My darlings will remember me when they are tasked with going through my things.

And when they remember me…

they will laugh more than they cry.

Chess pie, fried chicken, 'It Just Suits Me', butterscotch and peppermints in a candy dish on her dresser, her spoiled rotten cat, her rocking chair, her silky soft hair, cinnamon certs, how she would crochet a fancy lace edge on everything, the way she smelled, her hugs, her smile, how she still put on a headscarf even to bring in the mail, her kind and gentle demeanor - unless she heard you say something about her grandkids, how she would walk with her cane draped over her arm instead of actually using it to walk....... my sweet, precious Grannie.... I guess I just miss everything.....

I totally understand the facility my mom lives in taking precautionary measures to protect our most vulnerable citizens during this virus situation. I get it, I really do. But tomorrow will be one week since I’ve been allowed to see my mom, and she isn’t doing well. Her hospice team have come to the conclusion that due to her out of control blood pressure for a few weeks, it appears she has had a series of rapid succession mini strokes, and throwing blood clots from her carotids (that do have blockages). Of course there’s no way to know for sure (a pacemaker means no MRI, and TIAs don’t show on a CT).

But her confusion and rambling unintelligible words, have not improved much since they’ve gotten her BP under control. She continues to try and get up and walk in her most confused moments, and has fallen 2 more times (for a total of 6 falls).

So naturally, my mind is bombarded with constant thoughts of her during her quarantine.

Does she miss us, or does she even remember we haven’t been there?

Is she scared and lonely ?

Is she in pain?

Is she thinking we abandoned her?

Will she even remember me when I get to go back?

Does she cry at night?

I am her daughter, but in many ways I fill the role of her mother too. When she’s at a level of deep confusion, she even calls me ‘mama.’

Life has come full circle for both of us in that regard, just as it did with my dad.

I bet her hair and nails are a mess.

I bet no one is putting face cream on her.

I bet no one is singing with her...

There’s no Easter wreath on her door yet.

I know she is in an excellent place, and they love her and take very good care of her.

But they aren’t her daughter...

Hold on a little longer, Mama. I promise you I’ll be there as soon as I can.

I love you ‘all the much in the world’.

(I know you don’t get that, but it has always been our saying to each other since I was 2 years old).

#prayersformama

#bloggingmywaytheoughheartbreak

#ijustmissmymom

We are all busy people. For me, my M-F day starts at 4 am, a minimum of 3 hours to and from commute for work- and at least twice a week the 3 hours becomes 4. I have a fairly high pressure job with performance expectations that require constant creativity and fresh ideas. A typical day for me has me rolling into my driveway close to 7 and sometimes after.

We eat dinner every night with Granny ( that she lovingly prepares), and almost as soon as I finish eating and raise the recliner back, you guessed it- I fall asleep.

This pretty much happens every night, and we often laugh about my getting 10 minutes into a show before I’m out. The weekends are cherished, but I find myself trying to cram so much in 2 days to make up for the crazy 5 days, that by Monday when it all starts over again, I’m more tired than I was on Friday.

I’m not complaining.

I love my life.

I love my job.

I love spending time with Granny, the only parent we have left.

I love my husband.

I’m no busier than you are, I’m sure.

But on this Valentine’s weekend, I’m celebrating the love of my life.

32 years of the good, bad and ugly things- the trauma and the joy. The deaths and the births. He was holding my hand through all of it.

This weekend, we carved out a few days where I’m not falling asleep next to him on the couch during FBI international.

I’m not going to refuse to celebrate because I feel pressure to celebrate for a man-made holiday.

I am celebrating because I get to. Not because I have to.

And as busy as we all are- we all need a little reminding now and then.

Lester Cody, here’s to at least 30 more valentine’s days with you. My best friend, my partner In this life, and my choice to love forever.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

My Daddy is and will always be my hero. I miss who he was...but I still adore who he is. As he lives out late stage Alzheimer's, his vocabulary is very limited. He may do odd things in public. He has no idea he is belching or passing gas in a crowd. Occasionally though, he has a rare moment of clarity. I was privileged to experience one on a day I stood over him shaving his face and washing his hair. I was overwhelmed that I had slipped from daughter to nurse, and a single tear slipped down my cheek. It did not go unnoticed. Daddy stopped my hand holding the razor to his cheek, and with a shaky hand he wiped my tear away. He struggled with the words, but managed to get them out anyway. 'Don't cry... it's okay. It's okay.' I love you Daddy. And no matter where this journey takes us, I'll never be ashamed of you. And your words of wisdom shout through your disease. It will be okay.

#daddysgirl

#myhero

#alzeimersawareness

Written in 2020. I’m so thankful they are together now forever with Jesus.♥️

Dementia always seems to have new symptoms of sorts in it’s decline. Where my Daddy was mostly non-verbal the last few years of his journey with Alzheimer’s, my Mom is still able to speak. She does however, say the same sentences over and over (usually about 4 or 5), and can repeat the same thing many times over in a short amount of time.

She never remembers asking questions even mere seconds after asking them.

I was with her last night for about 2 hours, and she kept asking me over and over if I stopped by and saw Daddy on my way to see her. At first I thought she meant his grave, but she very sincerely thought he was still alive and just in another room.

Close to 20 times last night, she kept asking, even in the middle of a conversation about his funeral- she asked me if they were going to bring him down to go to bed with her.

Every time I gently reminded her that he was gone, and had been over a year- the look in her face was so heartbreaking. It was like a punch to the gut every time I told her,

like she was hearing it for the very first time.

She was grieving all

Over again.

One of the workers said she started this line of questioning the night before.

By the time I tucked her in for the night, I was pretty wrecked emotionally.

We know she won’t live forever, and we are doing our best as a family to ensure she is happy and safe for the time she has left on earth.

But in our efforts to ‘do no harm’, I can’t sit back and watch her grieve the loss of the love of her life over and over and over like it just happened.

So when I was kissing her good night, she asked one more time:

‘Did you stop in and see Daddy? Is he coming here to see me?’

I snuggled in close, and held her wrinkled hands in mine. These were the same hands that taught me how to make pies, and sew. These hands put band aids on my skinned knees and taught me to tie my shoes. They look so different now. She is so different now. I smelled her hair and kissed her cheek, and without reservation, replied to her question:

‘Daddy is just fine, Mama. And he wants you to know he will see you soon’.

And she smiled, and closed her eyes, ready for sleep to come and her dreams to carry her to the place where she is with him.

Sweet dreams, Mama.

Sweet dreams. ♥️

This was written 6 years ago, right before he died. I still hear you singing, sweet Daddy! Your voice is louder than your absence from this world. I’ll love you for eternity and then some!♥️

Since this latest health issue with my dad has happened, almost every day I’ve woken up with a different song that he used to sing on my mind. He sang in church all of his life, until his hearing loss was so advanced it became impossible. Still, he loved to sing, and I loved to sing with him. His voice was a beautiful clear tenor, and he always cried at some point during the song. And he didn’t have a ‘pretty’ cry, either. It was ‘lump in throat, squinched up face, tears bouncing off your nose, snot bubbles, can’t continue to sing’, kind of cry. (Incidentally, I inherited that from him.)

This song was on my mind today, and I wanted to share with you. He always cried in the second verse, about blind eyes being opened. I’m sure some of you even remember him singing this, which was one of his favorites. You can silence the singer, but the song lives on.

Songs my Dad used to sing:

Verse #1

I can't take a heart that's broken, Make it over again.

But I know a man who can

I can't take a soul that's sin sick and wash it white as snow.

But I know a man who can.

Chorus:

Some call him savior the redeemer of all men.

I call him Jesus for he's my dearest friend.

If you think that no one loves you and your life is out of hand.

I know a man who can.

Verse #2

I can't walk upon the water and I can't calm a raging sea.

But I know a man who can.

And I can't cause blinded eyes to be open Or the lame to walk again.

Oh But I know a man who can.

Chorus:

Some call him savior the redeemer of all men.

I call him Jesus for he's my dearest friend.

If you think that no one loves you and your life is out of hand.

I know a man who can...

I've never been big on New Year's resolutions, mostly because they are always abandoned by mid-January. But this year, I have been doing alot of reflecting, and there is one area in particular that I will make a noticable difference. My sweet, precious father was diagnosed with Alzeheimer's over a year ago. Out of respect for his wishes, our family kept it quiet all this time. Due to noticeable impairment and increasing symptoms, he has decided that we needed to let friends in on his situation. Over the last year and a half - after I heard the doctor's words ringing in my ears while holding his hand -I have done more than my share of 'fit-throwing', questioning God, and whining and complaining. 'Why him' has come up in more convresations and prayers than I can count. If you know M.J. Carnes, then you know him to be the sweetest, most kind and loving person on earth. He loves God, and loves his family more than anything. He was born a 'problem solver' able to fix anything broken - from a car, appliance, piece of furniture - to a broken heart. When we got home from his diagnosis - (which he took in stride with a few jokes and smiles, of course) he went straight to his garage. A few minutes later I followed after him. I could tell he had been crying. I just hugged him and tried to be comforting even though I was dying inside. He pulled back and looked me in the eye and said, 'It isn't supposed to be like this'. Pointing back to the house, he said, 'I'm supposed to take care of her - not the other way around.' Tears welled up in both our eyes. 'It's okay, Daddy. You've got a lot of good years left, and none of us are promised tomorrow.' He held my hand and said, 'I know one thing: I know I'll never forget you.' I knew he meant that with all his heart. After all, I am his baby. I know I've let him down plenty, but of that fact - he is very proud. I've always been a Daddy's girl. I knew he meant it, but I responded with the only way I knew how: You can't make that promise to me, Daddy... but I can make it back to you. I'll never forget you............

I am drawing strength from a memory of him singing a song in church with his beautiful, clear - tenor voice. He is so overcome with emotion that his voice is broken, and big crocodile tears are bouncing off his nose....'Farther along, we'll understand why.....'

In 2012, I resolve to cherish every single minute with the greatest man I have ever known. My hero.... my dad.....

Dear nonna,

I am 13 years old and I have never met anyone like. You always have a craft, a scavenger hunt or something for us to do I wrote one of these two years ago and I read it back and realize how much I’ve grown and a lot that is because of you every time we come to your house you teach me something new in fun ways I’ve known you my whole life and never been disappointed coming to your house. We’ve written letters built a loft you taught me how to so paint and many more things we’ve had a lot of adventures and experiences and I hope there’s many more to come. I love you forever and ever you never disappoint we do the funnest things together and there’s as fun as you I love you.

Love Presli

I watched you. For 60 years, I’ve watched your life. I’ve been your daughter in law for 32 years, but I’ve known you since the day I was born.

I sat behind you in church as a child. Watching you live out you love for the Lord in word and deed. I sat behind you as a rebellious, smart-mouthed teenager, thinking more about boys during church than what the preacher was saying, but I still always watched you. I wasn’t a relative, but you treated me like one. Steady, loving, always greeting me with a hug and a smile, calling me (your trademark) sugar. You still call me that.

When I was a kid, you loved me. When I was a teenager not living right, you loved me. When I was broken and abused and lost, you didn’t just love me…you helped put me back together.

I was broken when I married your son. He was broken, too. But you still loved me as your own. I wasn’t steady and stable, but you were. And you knew I could be again. Through all of my mistakes and missteps of being a new wife and 1st time mom to 2 broken little boys, you supported and loved me. You saw what I could be, and was steady and consistent with your prayers instead of criticism and judgment.

Thank you for being patient with me.

I watched you, watching me.

Decades passed with one catastrophic event after another in this family and more near death experiences that I can count.

You were strong and steadfast.

I told Lester today, that I have known giants and generals of the faith in my lifetime, but I’ve only known 3 people personally with crazy, mountain moving faith. Those 3 are you, Pop, and my Grannie Wright. My Grannie literally laid hands on her dead baby and commanded life to return, and it did. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t. Pop certainly had the anointing of the Apostle Peter for this generation, with miracles and signs and wonders following.

And I watched.

Four years ago, I watched you live the hardest moments of your entire life. After Pop’s stroke, we moved in with you to help with his care. And I watched you live for an entire year - your faith never wavering.

For an entire year, you slept with a lamp blaring in your face and never had even one full night of sleep. For a solid year, you fasted more than you ate. For a solid year, you grieved while the love of your life - your entire world slowly slipped away. You were worn out, and 80 years old. You ran on caffeine and prayer. You knew he was in God’s hands, but you never once allowed yourself to speak fear or doubt. Through difficult days, you celebrated every small victory , and prayed for peace during every defeat. The suffering you endured that last year was monumental . But you never wavered.

Because faith doesn’t do that.

And I was watching.

After he passed, we didn’t know how you would go on. Your deep love for him and such a tremendous loss in addition to other difficulties you were facing made me wonder if you would just give up and want to go on to be with him.

You deserved that.

You earned that.

But while I was watching an amazing thing occurred.

The Peter’s anointing didn’t leave Pop when Jesus took him home. Pop doesn’t need it anymore in Heaven.

That mantle was passed to you.

I am watching as you spend hours a day in encounters with the Lord warring over your family. I am watching you, as you lay hands on the sick knowing that they will recover. I am watching as people prophesy over you over and over that God isn’t finished with you yet.

I am watching as you emerge as an evangelist in this end time revival.

I am watching as young girls that don’t even know you come up to you asking you to pray over them. I am watching you pray in the Holy Ghost for hours on end.

I am watching a warrior being raised up out of the ashes and soldier on.

I don’t even have the words to adequately honor you. But I couldn’t let your 84th birthday end without telling the world, that they need to watch you, too.

Rise up woman of God. Your time is right now.

And when the day comes that the Lord takes you home, I will be watching. And if he chooses to take you in the rapture, I pray that I am right next to you in that very moment.

I love you heart and soul, sweet Granny.

I will be watching.

Home alone on my last day off for the Thanksgiving holiday. Nat King Cole is crooning in the background as I lug in the ghosts of Christmas past from the garage (thanks to the hubs for hauling it down from the attic).

I’ve got my tunes…

I’ve got my peppermint mocha… (thanks, Farrahmacie Cody)…

And I have Gypsy running a thorough spider clearance inspection on every box.

Tonight the Cody Christmas spirit will be in full swing, as we enjoy the decorations , candlelight, Christmas movies and turkey bacon Alfredo.

Tomorrow - the complicated world of surgery will bombarde my life once again, and I will be ready.

But today…. is mine.♥️🎄

#christmasspirit

#shouldbeacrossemoji

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