Nancy Parker Brummett

Author Writer Speaker

Embracing Change

by 7 Comments

pumpkinWe had an unusually warm and snow-less October here in Colorado, but we know a change—it is a coming! And it may happen suddenly. For now we bask in the golden hue the sunlight casts this time of year. We may grab a sweater when we leave the house, just in case, but we may leave in sandals, too!

Once the cold and snow come, those of us having fallen in love with the balmier days of fall may find the change catches us a bit by surprise. But then change always does, doesn’t it?

The dear older people I meet with in The Hope of Glory Bible study have taught me so much about change. The longer we live the more change we have to accept. Dealing with the monumental changes most of them have seen—the loss of a family home, a spouse, or a child—is never easy. Change changes us, there’s no doubt about it. But what I’ve observed in them is that change can also bring us closer to God, even if it’s a change we never would have chosen.senior woman

Our changing world and the discouraging political situation in which we find our country don’t go unnoticed or undiscussed in these groups of elders. But eventually one of them will say, “Whatever happens, God is in control.” That settles the discussion and we go on to more productive topics.

Change is inevitable, but it isn’t to be feared when we realize that all change—including whatever happens in the upcoming election—is orchestrated by the God who loves us. Wisdom and power are his. He changes times and seasons… (Daniel 2:20-21). And regardless of how we respond to the changes around us, it is the change within us that He values most. Having sent the Holy Spirit to indwell us, He daily works to change our hearts to be more forgiving, more trusting, and more like His own.

Whatever changes the coming season brings, we can rest in the knowledge that God does not change like shifting shadows (James 1:17). The sun may disappear a bit earlier each evening, but God is still in control of its rising and setting, and by His hand He changes all things according to His will.

In Memory of a Whole Life

by 20 Comments

DSC02794Volunteering in an assisted living community means you go to a lot of memorial services and funerals. It’s not that you enjoy going, it’s just that you can’t stay away because your life was somehow enriched by the person who passed away, and you want to both honor and learn more about him or her.

That’s what drew me to an afternoon service for Penny, an assisted living resident who faithfully attended my weekly Bible study for over five years. I didn’t know her family so I just quietly entered and found a seat. Soon a very elderly couple, both with canes, made their way to my row and sat next to me. In almost whispered tones the woman and I struck up a conversation, and she told me that she and Penny had worked together in the Physics Department at the U.S. Air Force Academy for 20 years. I had no idea Penny had that sort of career.

What I did know of Penny was that whenever I found her lying on her bed watching TV or reading a book and I asked, “Do you want to come to Bible study?” she would say, “Sure!” and hop up to come with me. I knew that no matter what question I asked in class, her response would be the same: “I raised five kids, and I couldn’t have done it without Jesus.”

As people were gathering I noticed five well-dressed, attractive, middle-aged adults receiving hugs and condolences. Oh sure, I thought to myself, the five kids. My gaze turned to the table in front of the room where a few stunning photos of Penny in her younger years were displayed between bouquets of flowers. In the most prominent position was a glass of ice and a small bottle of wine. I was curious, but it wasn’t until Penny’s niece delivered the eulogy later in the service that I learned the significance of this unusual display.

Evidently white zinfandel over ice was Penny’s celebration drink of choice, and that was just the beginning of what I didn’t know about her! I didn’t know she was born and reared in El Paso, Texas, in a small house bursting with people and love. I didn’t know she’d survived a difficult marriage. (“He was a real louse,” my seatmate leaned over and whispered.) I didn’t know just how much she loved books and movies. And I certainly didn’t know that while living in Cripple Creek, CO, for a while she had commuted to her job in Colorado Springs in a big Cadillac with longhorns attached!

The service closed with a slideshow of images of Penny through the years. Oh my goodness—the meals she served, the people she hugged, the babies she rocked, the outfits she wore! I could see why her niece said of her, “She gave us all unconditional love before it was a term.” And, “She was a hippie before it was a thing!”

Toward the end of the collection of photos was a picture of Penny in a purple sweater. I knew that sweater. She had it with her in assisted living. Here’s where I came in, I thought, as I dabbed my eyes for the fourth or fifth time.

Walking to my car after the service, a favorite adage kept playing in my mind: Don’t judge my story by the chapter you walked in on. None of us wants to do that to an older person we meet, but circumstances can make it difficult to discover the whole person. When I got in the car I broke into sobs thinking, Penny, I barely knew you.

And so I bring you more of Penny’s story—because her whole life is worth remembering, not just the chapter I walked in on.

Valuable Resources on Aging

by 3 Comments

Enhancing the lives of older adults and those who care for them.

Dear friends, I honestly don’t expect to become rich and famous from these two books, but I know from feedback I’ve gotten from those who have used them that they meet definite needs. Therefore I’m trying to do everything I can to get the word out about their availability. If you know anyone caring for an older adult, or working in eldercare or care giving, please share this blog post with them. Thanks so very much.

THE HOPE OF GLORY is a devotional guide for older adults that brings a message of eternal hope as it reminds seniors who they are in God’s eyes: not old and useless, but men and women created in His image who still have a life to live and a story to tell. The 57 time-tested, interactive devotions (5 are for special holidays) are designed for:
» Seniors 65 and over.
» Group classes in Assisted Living or Skilled Nursing Communities, Senior Centers, and Church Sunday Schools.
» Meaningful one-to-one visits with older adults.

Published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, 2014. 294 pages. Winner of an Illumination Book Award for Excellence in Christian Publishing. Available in print or electronic form from Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com.

TAKE MY HAND AGAIN is a faith-based guide for helping aging parents. The change in roles when adult children must begin caring for their aging parents is confusing and daunting. Those who wish they had a good friend or neighbor who traveled this path before them will find this companion guide especially helpful. Take My Hand Again includes an overview of common care options and questions to ask—of professionals, of prospective care facilities, and of the aging adults themselves. Readers will find much-needed hope and encouragement from real-life stories sprinkled with humor and relevant Scripture that give valuable insight into the challenges of the aging process. This book provides practical help for every step of the caregiving journey. Assisted living facilities find it helpful to give a copy to each family that comes to them for help.

Published by Kregel Publications, 2015. 224 pages. Available in bookstores or online at Amazon.com or Barnesandnoble.com.

profileABOUT THE AUTHOR Nancy Parker Brummett is the author of six books. Her writing and speaking ministries now focus on older adults and those who care for them. Nancy journeyed with her mother and mother-in-law through their adventures in aging and holds a professional certificate in gerontology. The Hope of Glory is a collection of lessons she wrote while volunteering to lead a devotional hour in assisted living. Take My Hand Again is based on her personal experiences, interviews with others in caregiving roles, and relevant research. For more information on Nancy’s life and work, or to schedule her to speak, visit her website at www.nancyparkerbrummett.com or find her on Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn.

Feeling Invisible

by 20 Comments

Grandmother sitting at the table with a big book.A common comment coming from the lips of aging adults with enough boldness to speak the truth is, “I feel invisible.” In her book Voices of Aging, author Missy Buchanan presents perspectives on several key topics from the point of view of the adult child and the aging parent. One elder said, “Sometimes I feel obsolete. Unnecessary. Irrelevant. Like a carton of milk whose expiration date is long past.” Another aging parent said, “I remember sitting in my room while my children talked about me as if I weren’t even there.”

No one should feel so invisible. If we take the time to look into the eyes of older people, and truly listen to what they say, it’s possible to see both who they were, and who they still are.

“Don’t judge my story by the chapter you walked in on,” reads a poignant anonymous quote. But isn’t that what we do? If we meet someone for the first time at the end of their lives, don’t we too often forget that this is simply one chapter? Would we want those who meet us later in life to make that same error in judgment?

This week I will add another assisted living Bible study class to my schedule. I sought a location close to our new home so it will be easy for me to visit there during inclement weather. I felt the Lord leading me to the place I selected, but when I met with the activities director there I learned that 90% of the residents have dementia. Will they still have moments of clarity when they can hear the truth of the gospel presented in the lessons in The Hope of Glory? Will the old hymns stimulate their long-term memories and put a smile on their faces? I pray so. But if not, the homemade cookies and hugs I offer will have to be enough of a reason to show up.

Most important, as I look forward to meeting these dear old souls, I pray I’ll be able to see who they were at a younger age, and who they authentically are today. I want to know about the earlier chapters of their no doubt fascinating lives, and appreciate the totality of the lives they have lived. I don’t want them to say, like another older person in Buchanan’s book, “My life is a library filled with books that no one reads anymore—books of adventure and romance, advice and how-tos.” As I get to know them, I hope to explore all the volumes of their lives.

Even people in their sixties, those categorized as “young seniors” but on the far side of “prime,” can feel invisible at times. Meeting the residents in the patio home community to which we moved this past summer, I sometimes think quietly to myself, “I sure wish I’d known you sooner.” And I wouldn’t be surprised if those who met me for the first time thought the same thing.

Recently we had a social gathering in our community and as I met each 60-plus person I couldn’t help but surmise: He must have been an effective CEO before he retired. She was obviously a beauty queen or a cheerleader. He was probably an excellent athlete earlier. She has no doubt been a patron of the arts her whole life. That couple must have always been partiers! Seeing them as they are now provided me with plenty of clues to the earlier chapters in their lives, and I’m looking forward to getting to know more about each person here. None will be invisible to me.

From the youngest to the oldest, we can all feel invisible at times. Yet we are never invisible in God’s eyes. He always sees us as we are and wherever we are, and only He sees who we ultimately will be when all the trappings of this earth fall away. Invisible? Not on His watch.

Late-in-Life Love

by 10 Comments

Senior couple sitting on a jettyI just spent a delightful day in the company of a close friend, a widow, who told me with stars in her eyes that she “met someone.” Both my friend and her new beau are in their seventies, but as she described their meeting she said it was as if she were thirteen again—all the same butterflies flitting around inside her! The “sweet nothings” they whisper to one another may have to be spoken a bit more loudly at this age, she confessed. And instead of getting-acquainted questions like “what’s your sign?” it’s more likely “are you on any medications?” But the sparkle in her eyes and the giggle in her voice told me this is true love all the same.

Is it ever too late for love? I don’t think so. Many years ago my mom was also in her seventies when she began a long companionship with Cecil, a dear family friend. He had lost his wife and my dad had passed away. The two couples had known one another since junior high. Mom and Cecil kept being asked to the same social gatherings, so eventually he said, “There’s no reason for both of us to drive. I’ll swing by and pick you up.” Thus began a 15-year relationship that nurtured them both.

My sisters and I were very fond of Cecil. Our families had vacationed in Florida together many times over the years, so we already thought of him as a second dad. He was extremely witty, and we quickly welcomed him to family gatherings. We would not have minded one bit had Mom and Cecil decided to take the next step and get married, but they never did. Theirs was a platonic love, but a true one.

And the benefits of their relationship were many. They looked forward to seeing one another and having a reason to get dressed up. I’m sure they both ate more nutritiously than either would have without the other, as my mom would cook a real meal once or twice a week when Cecil came over—usually to watch a University of Tennessee ball game—and they had a standing date for brunch after church.

“We don’t even have to tell each other entire jokes,” Mom said the day she called to let me know what was going on with Cecil (lest I hear rumors of impropriety!). “We know all the same jokes, so one of us just remembers a punch line and we have a good laugh!”

Many seniors would be open to late-in-life love but aren’t sure how to meet someone if they don’t have a lifelong connection like my mom and Cecil shared. Some actually have success with online dating sites, but more likely they connect through a mutual acquaintance or a shared interest. Other couples reconnect at a 50th or 60th high school reunion, after both are single again, and pick up right where they left off—although not as likely in the back of the pick up! Psychologists explain that the spark of “first love” is one that is easily rekindled, and every summer this romantic phenomenon plays out around punch bowls in gymnasiums from coast to coast. This gives new meaning to the phrase “take my hand again” that I’ve been using to refer to adults helping aging parents.

Is it ever too late for love? I think not. As for me, I’ll stick with the love I married when I was forty. A good man is hard to find at any age.

Portions of this blog post are excerpted from the author’s book, Take My Hand Again, Kregel Publications, 2015.

Meet Two New Friends

by 8 Comments

Today I’m happy to introduce my blog subscribers to Carol Heilman, an author I met through Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas (the publisher of my book THE HOPE OF GLORY) and her wonderful character Agnes Hopper. Carol’s book, AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR, will release on January 29th. Having met some wonderful “characters” in assisted living communities myself, I can’t wait to read it. Click HERE to order on Amazon.com.

_DSC0432When I asked Carol how she came to write about Agnes, this is what she told me:

AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR began as a short story assignment for a creative writing class at the University of South Carolina over ten years ago. Our instructor told us to place ourselves, along with some of our friends, in a foreign environment and to step back and see what developed.

IMG_0010I chose the porch of a retirement home because a standing joke, among a group of my friends and myself, was that one day we would end up living in such a place together. Before I had written two pages the characters, with their own, unique names took on their own personalities. I was fairly new to such writing adventures and was taken aback. They began to assert themselves and I decided I needed to pay attention, to listen and watch—for my scenes often unfold like a movie in my mind’s eye.

The short story ended when Agnes slipped out the back door of Sweetbriar Manor. Then I began to ask questions. What if she . . . Agnes Hopper’s story evolved and continues to evolve and surprise me. I am delighted to have a part in the telling of it.

Wishing all the best to you and Agnes, Carol! Thanks for sharing.

The Thanksgiving Table

by 18 Comments

20141125_152322 (2)I saw her coming down the hall as I was setting up for The Hope of Glory class in assisted living. Her feet were well padded with several pairs of socks, making it possible for her to propel her wheelchair slowly along using one foot at a time.

“Nellie!” I called out. “Are you coming to Bible study? Would you like me to push you?” She answered yes to both questions and then lifted her feet straight in front of her to expedite our journey into the activities room where I wheeled her to the end of the table.

On the table was a multi-colored fall tablecloth. It was one I’d taken home to wash after an event at church, only I’d forgotten to take it in on Sunday, so it was still in the backseat of my car. I saw it when I reached for my book and plate of cookies for class. At the last second I grabbed the tablecloth also, thinking it might brighten someone’s day. Little did I know how much.

During class, I noticed how fascinated Nellie was with the tablecloth. “Oh look,” she said, pointing with her gnarled finger to specific places in the design. “There are apples and grapes on here. I could make apple juice with apples like that—and grape juice with those grapes, too!”

Our lesson was titled Attitude of Gratitude: How it’s important for us, as we age, to replace any grumbling with gratitude for the gift of living a long and productive life. We looked at key Scriptures on thankfulness, including how we are to give thanks in all circumstances as we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:18—not necessarily for all circumstances but in all circumstances. And we talked about how remembering what the Lord has done for us in the past can help us be more grateful in the present. But I’m not sure Nellie was listening.

I noticed her place both hands on the tablecloth, palms down, and begin smoothing out the wrinkles, just as women have done for generations when setting a Thanksgiving table. What is she thinking about, I wondered. Is she remembering Thanksgivings when she set a beautiful table in her home for her husband and children, or when she helped her grandmother smooth out her best linen tablecloth for a family Thanksgiving on the farm?

Nellie picked up one edge of the cloth and slowly ran her fingers along the hem to the corner. I wondered how many tablecloths she had laundered and folded in her lifetime.

I felt so blessed after class. We don’t have family coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so I won’t be setting a fancy table or stuffing a turkey. I’m fine with going out for a change, but seeing Nellie’s reaction to that tablecloth brought back a flood of treasured memories. I remembered my mother’s Thanksgiving table with mums in the turkey centerpiece, and all the tables I set for our family over the years.

Are you setting a table this year? If so, get out your best tablecloth. Smooth out the wrinkles with both hands. During dinner, record the faces gathered ‘round the table in your heart. We can’t always be with the people we’d like to be with on Thanksgiving due to weather, distance, resources, even death or divorce. But we can be grateful for those who are around the table with us, and be fully present for them.

At the end of class today, when I asked Nellie if she had any prayer requests to add to our list, she looked up at me and smiled. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Just for everyone to be happy.” Me, too, Nellie. Me too. Happy Thanksgiving.

Joy Is Where You Find It

by 20 Comments

waiting roomI was sitting in my doctor’s office waiting to be called in for a flu shot when I saw them enter: a man about my age and his quite elderly mother. He walked slowly, keeping cadence with her pace. She leaned over her walker and shuffled toward the check-in desk.

“My mom is here for her 11:00 appointment,” said the son, giving his mother’s name.

“Has she been in Africa in the last 21 days?” the receptionist asked in all seriousness.

The man looked over at his fragile mother, then back at the receptionist. “Well, I don’t think so, but I guess I should ask her,” he replied. He turned toward his mother and said in a voice loud enough for her and everyone in the waiting room to hear, “Mom, have you been in Africa in the last 21 days?”

From my perspective I couldn’t see the elderly woman’s face, but I could see her frail shoulders bouncing up and down as she chuckled to herself. “No,” she said, and as she turned to move toward a chair in the waiting room I could see the amusement in her eyes still. What a sweet moment the two of them shared. What unexpected joy was found in what was no doubt an appointment neither particularly wanted to keep. The receptionist was just following office procedure during this recent Ebola scare, and didn’t know she’d brightened the day of everyone within hearing distance in the process—especially the day of the elderly patient.

As soon as the man and his mom had come through the door, my heart had gone out to them. It’s impossible for me to see someone helping an elder they love without remembering such days with my mother-in-law and my mom, both now in heaven. Oh, how I prayed I could get my mom-in-law into Wendy’s for the cheeseburger and Frosty she craved without her falling. She planned morning doctor appointments so we could indulge ourselves at Wendy’s afterwards. I didn’t want her to fall on my watch.

My mom remained fairly mobile until near the end of her life, but I remember how cautiously I drove whenever I had her in the car, and how I insisted she wear her seatbelt—an invention she never appreciated fully.

But there was joy in those times, too. How I wish I could take Mary Frances for a Frosty, or Mom for a ride, one more time.

I was called in for my shot. Leaving the doctor’s office a few minutes later I walked by the chairs where the man and his mother were still waiting. The three of us shared a smile, and the knowledge that loving is always worth the price. Especially on days when a little unexpected joy comes your way.

Just Start

by 14 Comments

iStock_000014160379_MediumWhen my son Tim gave me a copy of Jon Acuff’s book Start I thought the subject might have come a bit late for me, but I was wrong! I just finished the book and it’s full of motivating advice for Boomers like my husband and me who are launching Act 3 of our lives.

 

I also saw application for elders we all know and love. Even people in their 80s and 90s can “punch fear in the face, escape average, and do work that matters” as this author urges. With thanks to Jon Acuff (who also wrote the wildly popular, humorous book Stuff Christians Like) here’s some motivation for us all.

 
At any age each of us can stop living an average life and start living an awesome one. Acuff says that to get to awesome there are two questions we should ask ourselves: “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” and “Are those the things I’m doing right now?” Younger people might have feats like running a marathon or going to medical school on the list of things they would regret not doing, but our seniors may list things like, “Call my sister in Idaho and have a nice long chat,” or “Take a walk around the block each day.” The point is to stop thinking about what you wish you were doing and begin doing it—one small step at a time.

 
Moving from average to awesome takes us through several stages according to Acuff. First we learn about the things that interest us, then we edit down to just what we are most passionate about. The third stage is to master one or more of our passions. Then we begin to see the fruits of our efforts; we begin to harvest. Finally, in the awesome life, one gets to the stage of guiding or mentoring others. But that’s not the time to rest on your laurels. Oh no. Once you get to guiding, then you simply start again!

 
When I think of the older adults I know and love, I wonder if they fully realize how much they have mastered, and how valuable and helpful it would be for them to enthusiastically share their harvest and guide others. Even if it’s how to make a pie crust or when to plant spring crops, every older person has something to share. When we encourage them to do so, we will watch them change from average to awesome right before our eyes.

 
Did your mother immigrate to this country as a child? Did your dad serve in World War II? Help them tell their stories to a group of school children and share some living history. Do you know an older woman who might be willing to teach someone how to crochet? The opportunities for “awesomeness” are limitless.

 
As longevity increases, news reports are replete with stories of people in their 90s and beyond who take their first motorcycle ride, go skydiving, or take a long anticipated vacation. But it doesn’t have to be something so dramatic to move older adults from average to awesome. Listen to what matters most to the elders you love, and help them find a way to move closer to living an awesome life. It’s never too late to start.

Remembering Momilies

by 18 Comments

A friend from high school recently posted this former blog post on Facebook so I thought I would send it out again, too. Momilies are timeless! Happy Mother’s Day!

DSC03428I grew up in the South thinking everyone’s mother said, “Katie, bar the door” in times of trouble and “I’ll swan” when something truly amazing happened. On a really busy day, there would be “no flies on us,” and when something was perfectly ready it was “all saucered and blowed” (like you do to hot coffee before you drink it). My mom also described someone who talked all the time as having been “vaccinated with a phonograph needle,” and a braggart was “too big for his britches.”

Now that my mom is gone, I’m glad I have these momilies to remember. Momilies are like homilies but a lot less preachy. They are the gentle bits of advice passed from moms to children and repeated with a frequency that insures their remembrance.

“Rise above it” my mom would say when she was encouraging me not to stoop to someone else’s level. Whether applied to junior high gossip or office politics, this simple three-word phrase always has helped me keep my focus.

“It’ll never show on a galloping horse” was my mom’s version of “don’t sweat the small stuff.” A pimple on the end of your nose the night before the prom? A greasy stain on one of the linen napkins you need for a dinner party? Not to worry. “It’ll never show on a galloping horse.”

In fact, horses were the source of a lot of wisdom. “Don’t put your cart before your horse” was trotted out whenever I impatiently scrambled the logical order of events, and “no sense closing the barn door after the horse gets out” reminded me to think about the consequences of what I was doing before it was too late.

There must have been chickens in the same barn, because I was frequently reminded not to count them before they hatched. (They may have been the same chickens who later ran around with their heads chopped off.)

Young girls coming to terms with their physical appearance need all the support they can get. My sisters and I remember our mom telling us “beauty knows no pain” as we squeezed into too-small patent leather shoes or girdles with garters. But since she was a lot more concerned about our behavior than our beauty, we also daily heard “pretty is as pretty does” and “beauty comes from the inside out.” Little did we know it was her subtle way of teaching us the truth of 1 Peter 3:4 which describes beauty as “a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s eyes.”

Whenever we said we wanted something we didn’t need or couldn’t have, Mom would remind us that “people in jail want out.” It was years before I saw the connection between those people in jail and me. I just knew that whenever they came up, I wasn’t going to get what I wanted!

When it came to wanting all the food I saw in a cafeteria line, Mom would say, “don’t let your eyes be bigger than your stomach”—meaning take only what you can really eat!

That particular momily is one I passed on to my own kids. My son said it was years before he knew what it meant, but he sure thought about the possibility of having eyes that big! Since I also warned him not to “cut his nose off to spite his face,” he worried about his facial features a lot.

Although it was always strange to hear the same momilies my mom used coming out of my mouth, I’m glad I passed them on. After all, she wasn’t “just whistlin’ Dixie.”