love – Ann Coker

Connections

Water Tower at Asbury University, Wilmore, KY.

I named my blog Connections, because connecting with people and places is essential to my life. Recently I’ve connected with three persons from the past. One, as a young girl, was converted during my husband’s ministry at a small church in Indiana while attending graduate school. She’s now married with children. She found out about Bill and me by way of an email promoting Bill’s podcast, Words of Endearment with Bill Coker. She emailed and rehearsed her connection with us. I’m grateful.

Two of these persons are graduates from Asbury College (now University) in Wilmore, KY. They both recall hearing Dr. Coker in chapel. The first to contact me had Bill as a teacher and later he hired her on staff. We recently met for lunch and had a great time rehearsing our past history. She lives in Indiana, and we’ll keep in touch with emails. Her husband has self-published several books, and he will be a good resource if and when I go that route for upcoming projects.

The second graduate emailed me, because she had completed leading a group study on Bill’s first book, Words of Endearment: The Ten Commandments as a Revelation of God’s Love. She lives in Orlando, FL, and she sent a photo of the group having brunch for their last session of study. We have emailed several times and related more about our families.

These connections not only connect our past, but they inform us of the continued influence Asbury and its leaders had on their lives. I’m grateful for their reaching out to me and showing me again that our lives connect and keep us connected to Jesus whom we love and serve.

The photo I’ve chosen is of the water tower on the grounds of Asbury University. Hard to see, but there is a cross on top of the tower. Years ago a pilot, flying over the town, pointed out to passengers that tower with a cross was erected on a college campus. Recently the issue of displaying the cross came up for debate, and the town agreed it would keep the cross. That also is a good connection and a witness to God’s grace.

Home Alone

I ‘ve been home alone this week if you don’t count the fish and dog. But I can’t discount them, for I need to feed the fish, Fire, and the dog, Jules, who also keeps me busy letting her out and back in. She’s definitely not an outside dog. Okay, I just took a quick break and fed them both.

Fire and Jules

Becky, my daughter, and her husband, Paul, were away for a week working at the church’s youth camp. Becky is head chef and Paul had responsibilities with teaching and supervising. They were only gone for seven days, but it afforded me time to think about being a widow. Since my husband died in March of 2024, I’ve not really been alone. I live with Becky and Paul, and while I may not see them all day every day, we connect in the evenings.

Becky cooks our supper meals, and Paul is the resident handyman. Now it’s a change of routine for me. For this week, I shopped for easy-prep meals, including seafood. I have eaten well, and not gone out for meals. As far as anything needing“ fixing,” nothing has broken. But I put a new battery in the dining room clock and will take the trash bin to the curb tonight.

What this time alone has taught me is empathy for widows––my sisters and friends. Most of them live alone. Some have family nearby; a few are in assisted living facilities; while others are active in their churches. For example, my sister in Alabama is in an assisted living facility due to her needs; and my sister in New Mexico keeps busy by contacting members of her church who have special prayer concerns. Both have family nearby. We all know that God is with us. His provision, protection, and presence are real on a daily basis.

Living in the same home with family, I have not experienced being alone. This week I have had to keep focused on what’s important. I’ve succumbed to distractions such as watching a stand-up comedian on my phone. He’s clean and I appreciate his humor, but watching endlessly can be a waste of time, a big obstacle, along with the energy it takes to get back on track.

This week has not been a waste of time, for I’ve learned about myself and others. I’m blessed, for God is with me. I’m thankful, for He’s my constant companion in rough and good times.

Our Daughter’s Perspective

Photo taken before moving to Indianapolis. Written by Becky in June of 2023.

My mother phoned, stating she and Dad decided to move to Indianapolis and wanted to purchase a house with my husband, Paul, and me. For two years we had discussed different options, knowing my mom would need help caring for my dad. Suddenly we put preparations in motion, including the sale of both of our houses. The search began and we found a home here that would meet our needs.

No one can fully prepare you for all the nuances of caring for a loved one with dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. We read several books to understand the disease process and to know better what to expect. Several well-meaning people told me we would not be able to keep my dad in our home for the entire process. We determined to try to keep Dad at home with us. Everyone’s circumstances are different, and this isn’t always possible.

Although we experienced difficult times––watching my dad slowly slip away into the recesses of his mind––we could give thanks for much. I am thankful for the home we found that provided a secure place for my dad and where everyone had space of their own. I am thankful my dad remained happy most of the time, and he never became so violent we could not care for him in our home. I am thankful for the support of my husband, and of my brothers who made it a priority to help, including staying at the house when Paul and I traveled. I’m thankful for friends and family who prayed for us, advised us, loved on us, and took this journey alongside us.

Jay Allen wrote the song, Blank Stares, about his mother going through early-onset Alzheimer’s disease. With his permission, I quote some of the lyrics:

“It’s getting harder and harder to watch you disappear

Oh if only farther leaving me in tears

If I could only seal the cracks you’re slipping through

Wish I didn’t feel so helpless when it comes to helping you

Hold on

But I keep holding on

Every little memory made of you and me

Every little glimpse of who you used to be

I know you’re still in there

Deep down somewhere I swear I still see you

I still see you

Between the blank stares”

Dementia is a long, slow, and difficult process of dying. My dad used to say that growing old is not for sissies. Caring for a loved one with dementia isn’t for sissies either. Hold on to Jesus! ~ by Rebecca Anne Coker Gearhart, RN

This will be included as the foreword in my upcoming book on caregiving.