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Nancy Parker Brummett

Nancy Parker Brummett

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Take My Hand Again

Vintage Volunteers

April 8, 2022 by Nancy 17 Comments

April is National Volunteer Month so I decided it was a good time to honor some volunteers I know.

Virginia scoots around in her wheelchair from table to table in the assisted living facility’s dining room. She volunteered to keep the holders for the sugar packets on each table refilled each day, and she takes her volunteer responsibilities seriously.

Lois comes to my The Hope of Glory class with her knitting in a tote. Each week she shows us the progress she’s making on the next cozy hat she’s knitting for a baby in the hospital. How grateful new parents must be to receive this handmade gift, and even if Lois never gets to see their delighted faces or see the hat on a tiny head, she keeps knitting. She also regularly reads to fellow residents with vision problems, including Joanne.

Joanne always assumed that she would spend her golden years tutoring students and reading to others, but macular degeneration derailed her plans. “I asked the Lord what He would have me do instead,” she explained to our group, “and He told me to pray for the younger generation because they need to be lifted up in prayer. So now that’s my volunteer assignment.”

And my friend Phyllis, 93, has volunteered at a thrift shop that supports community philanthropies for almost 30 years.

It’s a privilege to know older adults who still have the heart to volunteer at a time in their lives when they could so easily sit back and say, “Been there, done that. It’s someone else’s turn to volunteer now.” Rather than be complacent, they see a need and rise up to meet it. They say like Isaiah in Isaiah 6:8, “Here am I. Send me!” I call them vintage volunteers.

Passion. Commitment. Hope.

Recently I was asked to address a group of volunteers at the Ronald McDonald House of Southern Colorado, and I identified what all volunteers need to succeed: passion, commitment, and hope.

Our passion may be whatever makes us extremely happy or extremely angry. Whatever consumes our thoughts and inspires us to sign up or write a check. Once we identify a passion for some cause, we are more likely to volunteer.

And every volunteer needs commitment. It’s commitment that makes us show up for our volunteer shift even when it would be easier to call and cancel. And it’s commitment that moves us to complete any task we see that needs doing, even if it’s not in our volunteer job description.

Without hope, we wouldn’t volunteer at all, would we? We volunteer our time and resources because we hope our involvement will make a difference. And we hope because we care.

If you have elders in your life with time on their hands, help them recall a passion that motivated them in the past. If possible, identify some task, however small, that they can do to feed that passion. Encourage them to be committed to this volunteer effort and instill them with hope that what they do will make a difference. Vintage volunteers have so much to offer, and volunteering in any way adds purpose to their days.

First published in Pikes Peak Senior News.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: commitment, Giving, Hope, knitting, Older Adults, passion, vintage, volunteers

To Love and Be Loved

February 11, 2022 by Nancy 17 Comments

This time of year there is a lot of emphasis on love in our society, but too often the focus is on romantic love and little thought is given to other types of love. The love of parent and child, of grandparent and grandchild, or of one friend for another are all incredible forces of love worth celebrating. We can show our love to the seniors in our lives by reminding them that love is both timeless and ageless.

Jesus was the perfect model of how we are to love, and He asked us to love ourselves, love others, and love God.

First, love ourselves. In Mark 12:31, Jesus said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Yet because of messages they heard as a child, old wounds, failures, or even sin, older adults sometimes find it hard to love themselves. We need to remind them that we can all love ourselves because God first loved us. And He loves us unconditionally. He loves us so much that He sent Jesus to die for us so that we could dwell in His presence for eternity. He loves us enough to convict us of our sins and free us from even the guilt of them. He loves us enough to indwell us with the Holy Spirit to comfort and guide us. He loves us enough to give us people to love and to be loved by, and a Creation to enjoy. He stuffs our shoeboxes with valentines!

(C) Voila

Second, we are to love others. In John 13:34, Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another.” Some people are easier to love than others. But we are even to love the unlovable. It may be unrealistic to believe that we will be able to love everyone we encounter unconditionally, but it is realistic to believe that we can consider choosing love as our first response in every situation. What a difference that would make in the daily lives of those in care facilities. Tell them it’s possible.

Finally, we are to love God. In Matthew 22:37, Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” He called this the first and greatest commandment. We love God when we worship Him and give Him praise. We love Him when we obey Him and trust Him with our past, present, and future. And we can do that at any age.

Let’s reach out to the seniors in our lives with the love that lasts—the kind of love worth celebrating today and every day. Happy Valentine’s Day!

First published in Pikes Peak Senior News, February/March 2021.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: God, Jesus, love, Seniors, Valentine's Day

Do Last Names Matter?

June 24, 2020 by Nancy 22 Comments

NametagsI’m on my third last name. I had the first two for twenty years each and this one has been my moniker for almost 32 years. Recently I began wondering at what point no one calls you by your last name any more anyway.

My mother-in-law was in a repeating cycle her doctor told us was common. She’d have a fall, go into the hospital, go to rehab, then go back home. Things would be fine for a while, but then the cycle would repeat—until the time she didn’t make it all the way back around and went to assisted living instead of home. This made for a lot of different hospital and rehab rooms.

Each room she inhabited would have a white board or a door plaque for the patient’s name. My mother-in-law’s name was Mary Frances Brummett. Not Mary. Not Frances. Mary Frances. Inevitably I would come into her room and see her name displayed as Mary. I would pull a pen from my purse or find the white board marker and add “Frances.”

Sometimes I’d be visiting when a caregiver came in with a chirpy, “How are we today, Mary?” One day I corrected one of these people and after she left the room Mary Frances said, “I’ve told them all but it doesn’t do any good.” Really? With all the other indignities she was suffering her last few years, why couldn’t she at least be called by her preferred first name?

And why were they calling her by her first name anyway? I’m old enough to remember when a married woman was no longer addressed by her first name. “The doctor will see you now, Mrs. Brummett,” was the way she would have been summoned in those days. Sales clerks in stores may have dared to address my mother as “Honey” or “Dear” if they’d known her for years, but if they wanted to make the sale they would also address her as Mrs. Parker, not Lois. Only those to whom she said, “Please, call me Lois,” would dare to do so.

When did everyone start calling older people by their first names? Was it some weird aberration of political correctness? Or did the HIPPA laws demand that we all become more anonymous and go only by our first names? I really don’t know, but I have to feel it contributes to older people feeling like they are not being given the respect they deserve.Stones

During this Covid-19 pandemic, I’ve only been able to piece together bits of information about the dear seniors who were in my Bible study at assisted living, a facility with a coronavirus outbreak, because HIPPA laws prevent the facility from telling me anything about their conditions. I’ve watched the obituaries faithfully, and yes, I’ve seen a couple of those dear souls listed. My consolation is that I know they went straight to heaven. I was never told their last names, and didn’t feel I should ask, so I’m left to identify them by their first names and photos.

Do last names matter? I suppose if you’re a descendant of the Rockefellers or a professional genealogist they do. Otherwise, I’ll add this to the list I’m accruing of lost cultural battles and just be happy to go by Nancy. I hate it when they mispronounce our last name as “Broomette” anyway. And the Bible says that when we get to heaven we’ll get a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it (Revelation 2:17). Wonder what mine will be? I hope I like it.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: assisted living, Covid-19, HIPPA, Name, Older Adults, Respect, Seniors

Sharing the Good News

April 8, 2020 by Nancy 8 Comments

Rosenthal RabbitOften when I ask assisted living residents for prayer requests I hear longings for physical healing. “I would just like to get out of this wheelchair and walk again,” one might say, or “For my back to heal so I can get around without this walker.” But truthfully, wheelchairs and walkers may be a part of their reality as long as they tarry on this earth.

So how can we encourage elders we know to look beyond their physical limitations to see the opportunities they still have to move through the world making a difference? Especially now during their increased isolation due to the pandemic? At Easter we can encourage those who believe in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the promise of eternal life for those who believe, to share this Good News with others.

I love the stories in the Bible of women running with good news. The Samaritan woman at the well ran back to her village after encountering Jesus. John 4:28 states: Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”

Easter cactus with crossAnd of course there’s Mary Magdalene that first Easter morning. She, too, encounters Jesus, but she doesn’t recognize him at first. John 20:15-16 reads: “Woman,” he said, “why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabonni!” (which means Teacher).

Jesus tells Mary Magdalene to go and tell the others that He has risen, and will soon be returning to His father in heaven. John 20:18 tells us: Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” Surely she ran as fast as her sandaled feet could carry her.

senior womanMaybe the older people we know can no longer run to deliver good news, but they can still deliver it. Encourage those who believe to share what they know, and to explain who the risen Lord is to them, with others this Easter. Help them to see beyond their physical limitations to the amazing life-giving force that is still within them. Encourage them to figuratively leave their wheelchairs and walkers behind and “run” with the Good News of Easter!

Revised from an article first published in Pikes Peak Senior News, Spring 2020.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: Cross, Easter, Elderly, Good News, Hope, Resurrection, Sharing

A Christmas Homecoming

December 17, 2019 by Nancy 5 Comments

Christmas CookiesA common refrain from those living in care facilities is, “I just want to go home.” This sentiment is most often expressed by those in memory care who may not be able to remember why it was that they needed a safe, different environment in which to live. One facility I visited installed a bus stop in the hallway. Just sitting on the bench waiting for the bus seemed to calm the residents wanting to go home until the desire to do so passed them by.

This makes us sad, but we can understand that all hearts yearn to go home—especially at Christmas time. If we can’t take our seniors home for Christmas in the real sense, what can we do to bring home to them?

A good place to start is with the story of the first Christmas recorded in Luke, Chapter 2. Although our elders may have heard this passage of Scripture read in church services every Christmas of their lives, they may not have thought about the fact that none of the main characters in the story were home on the first Christmas.
Creche on MantelJoseph had once lived in that region which is why he was required to transport his pregnant wife on a donkey, taking her with him to register for the census in Bethlehem. But it wasn’t home to him. Mary likely had never been there before. She was young, about to give birth, and far away from her family and familiar surroundings. Surely she yearned to go home.

And then there’s the Baby Jesus himself. The star of the story. He certainly wasn’t home. He left the glories of heaven, where He reigned next to Almighty God, and humbled himself to come to earth as a tiny baby born in a stable surrounded by animals. Jesus later said, “For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me…For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life…” (John 6:38, 40). He left His celestial home for a significant purpose.

Grandchild's First ChristmasSharing this perspective on the Christmas story may lead to some heartfelt discussions about home. It’s common for elders to let messages of discouragement bring them down, especially over the holidays. They may remember all the years they decorated their homes, baked for days, wrapped presents, set beautiful tables, served scrumptious meals, and then they wonder, “Did any of it matter? Does anyone even remember those Christmases?”

The best gift you can give an elder parent is to tell them, “I remember.” If possible, go through old photos and create a small album of photos from Christmases past. Include recipe cards for favorite annual treats or other mementos of your family Christmases.

As you look at the album with your loved one tell her, “I’ve tried to make your crescent cookies but they never turn out as good as yours.” Or tell him, “I really believed those footprints you made in the snow were from Santa!” It doesn’t matter what you share, just that you say, “I remember.” With or without an album of photos, sharing fond Christmas memories with the elders you love may be the best gift you can give them. Merry Christmas to all!

First published in Pikes Peak Senior News, Winter 2019-2020.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: Baby Jesus, Christmas, cookies, Elders, Gift, Memories, Sharing

The September Rose

September 9, 2019 by Nancy 16 Comments

Rose bush (2)Why is it that September roses seem more beautiful than those of June? Maybe it’s because we thought we’d seen the last of the blossoms, but then the rose bush surprises us with a new burst. Just a little plant food, water, and sunshine and voila! Another showing of delicate pink buds appears to remind us that warm, summer days are still with us, and beauty will continue to appear where we least expect it.

My rose bush is a common rambler, but my neighbor has a glorious hedgerow of Rose of Sharon bushes. Really from the hibiscus family, these blooms wait until late August or early September to come into their glory. In the Bible, the Rose of Sharon symbolizes beauty, and it is used in the poetic book of Song of Solomon to describe the beauty of a lover. This year we were all surprised when a darker pink section appeared in a bush that was always covered with light pink flowers in years past. Some sort of beautiful, botanical miracle!

Rose of Sharon hedgeAt our last house, I had a more sophisticated rose that only had two or three blossoms at a time. Still, each year in September it would gather all the nutrients it had left to produce one perfect rose which I always dubbed “the last rose of summer.” I’m not the only one to appreciate such simple solitude. In 1830, Thomas Moore wrote, “’Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone; All her lovely companions are faded and gone.”

What lesson does the late or last September rose have for us? Maybe it’s a sign that whatever our age we, too, have more to offer the world than we have yet revealed—even more than the world expects of us. If summer has rejuvenated us at all, can we pull on the resources we’ve stored up to go into fall producing something that makes the world a more beautiful, better place?

I must have loved going back to school in the fall as a child, because September always gives me a boost. It feels more like a new year than January 1 ever did! It’s a time to set goals, to mend any fences with broken pickets, to look forward to the coming autumn, even winter, with an expectation that the days will be worth celebrating just because they exist.Rose of Sharon

Might there be hard times to come? Sure. The farmer’s almanac predicts a cold and blustery winter. But as we are surviving it, the rose bush buried under the snow will be resting up for a new show of glory come next summer. That wise sage Ziggy is quoted as saying, “You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.” Let’s enjoy the last rose of summer, applaud her resilience, and be optimistic about the beauty in the days to come—even if there are some thorns, too.

Filed Under: Take My Hand Again Tagged With: Late blooms, Rose, Rose of Sharon, Summer, Thorns

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