The Five Adults

Every child needs at least five adults that really care about them. Just five. Five adults that know them, speak to them, root for them and care about them.

Perhaps this is wisdom you’ve already heard. I first heard it from my mother, who is a retired Christian Educator. I came across it again in seminary, and there’s a whole page of relevant links if you Google simply, “Five Adults.”

In a society where people move frequently and parents are raising children without the help of extended family, most American children now grow up with only one or two, or sometimes no adults who truly champion them. Faith communities now play a more important role than ever in the lives of children. One of the hidden strengths of a multi-generational church like St. Andrew’s is that children here are greeted by adults who care about them and inquire about them every week, and who do so out of genuine interest and love.

I see it every week in the way our acolytes are praised by name, and how relationships are forming between them and the adult worship leaders who gather before church starts. I see it in children’s church, where our teachers share their own faith journey, take every question seriously, and laugh with them when they crack jokes. I see it when clergy and parishioners show up to school plays and dance recitals, and remember to ask about that tough test at school.

We may not realize it, but through these seemingly small interactions, together we are strengthening each child’s sense of safety, their self worth, and their sense of belonging. This sense of wholeness and of simply being seen is exactly who Jesus was for the children in his own community (in fact, for everyone he met!).  Let us not underestimate the power we each have to influence a child’s life, both here at church and in our wider community.

I am saying a prayer of thanksgiving right now that my own children have those five (and more!) adults, because of the good people at St. Andrew’s. Thank you! I can’t wait to see how all our children blossom over the years in this place of love.

—Ginny Chilton

Hard-wired for relationship

 As I was walking toward the smoothie spot during a layover in the Baltimore airport, I felt a tap on my arm as a guy was walking past going the opposite direction.  As I turned to see what he was getting my attention about, he pointed to his Louisville shirt and then to my Kentucky shirt.  I immediately knew what he was “saying,” even though he never said a word and neither did I.  I just smiled and made an acknowledging gesture, and we went on with what we were doing.  Never saw him again and never will, but everything that needed to be communicated occurred in an interaction took three or maybe four seconds.  That was several years ago, but I remember it fairly often because that was such a cool experience.

Connections.  We are created to be in relationship with one another, “hard-wired” as neuroscientist Andrew Newburg puts it, to be in relationship with God.  When we have connections that are healthy and appropriate, our lives are enriched and reflect a holiness that God intended in the way we are created.  Science has shown that, without those connections, there are increased mortality rates among infants who are neglected, orphans who do not “thrive,” higher incidents of mental illness and crime.

Now that the start of school signals a return to familiar routines and rhythms of daily interaction that summer often disrupts, it is a good time to be intentional about renewing and deepening our connections with God and one another through worship, fellowship, pastoral care, and outreach.  Being connected, acknowledging another’s existence and being acknowledged, hard-wired for relationship: it’s as basic - and as essential - as a wordless but deeply communicated interaction during an airport layover.

— Marc Vance

 

Making decisions about retirement homes

 “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:  a time to be born, and a time to die…  a time to break down, and a time to build up…  a time to mourn, and a time to dance…  a time to keep, and a time to throw away…” --  from Ecclesiastes 3

What do I do in my “golden years?”  Since I moved into The Chesapeake a few months ago, a number of people have talked to me about their own situation.  What goes into a decision about senior living?  I will tell you about my thought process.  I hope it sparks some thoughts about your situation, or perhaps, that of your parents.  In early 2025 I will bring this conversation into the Adult Forum as a venue to have some conversation about you.
 
I have lived alone for 20 years since my husband died.  I lived in a lovely house I didn’t use fully.  I was tired of arranging for people to do maintenance.  I enjoyed the yard work, but it was getting to be a lot.  I was tired of trying to make creative healthy dinners for one. 
 
My husband and I did elder care long distance for all four parents.  The distance added another layer of complexity to an already difficult stage of life.  We had to make decisions from afar, relying on staff to keep us informed.  I wanted to be proactive and not leave the decision to my sons.  One son lives in Connecticut and the other is in Yorktown. My move to Newport News nine years ago was the first step – moving near Matt.  I knew then that I would seek a retirement community eventually. 
 
Nobody wants to need Health Care or Memory Care, but many people end up with that need.  My priority was finding a facility that had the whole continuum of care available so if in the future I need more, it will be here for me.   I excluded one facility because they do not have Health Care. 
 
I only looked at two places because I wanted somewhere near my son who lives in Yorktown and near St. Andrew’s and other activities I am involved in.  I didn’t want to have to start over in a new community.  I know that if I went to Williamsburg or Virginia Beach the distance would become an issue for me.
 
I did not look at cottages.  I would have loved one, but I knew that a lovely little house away from the main building would isolate me.  I could hear myself saying, “Oh, it is raining…  I don’t think I will go over to dinner – or an activity.”  “Oh, it is so hot out…”
 
I looked at apartments with many of the same criteria I had when house hunting.  I wanted it to be spacious.  I am a light lover, and good windows were important.  I wanted storage for “stuff” I wasn’t ready to let go of – craft supplies, yarn for prayer shawls etc. I wavered on one or two bedrooms and chose a one bedroom with as much space as a two bedroom, but the rooms are more open, spacious feeling.
 
I asked questions about amenities, and one deciding factor was food.  I need to eat gluten free, which is a challenge one facility admitted they could not meet.
 
What is your situation?  Where are you now physically, emotionally in terms of your living situation?  What is your support community?  What are your challenges?  What are you tired of?  Ecclesiastes says there is a season for everything.  It even refers to getting rid of “stuff”!
 
My biggest piece of advice is to go sooner rather than later.  Go while you are able and can integrate yourself into the community and make it home.
 
Most facilities have wait lists – of up to two years.  A deposit (usually refundable) starts the clock.  You have much to think about.  Don’t wait to put your name on a list is this is the right move for you.  All the other decisions – like what to do with the stuff you can’t keep can happen later!  (And there are people who can help you with downsizing.)
 
When we wait until we are in need of care, our decisions are limited by where there are available beds and that is often not where we want to be.
 
I knew that it was the right time for me to make this move.  I can live independently here, using the facilities I choose, and when the time comes if I need more, it will be here waiting for me.  There is a season for everything.  Moving into a retirement community is not the right decision for everyone.  What is your situation?
 
I am happy to help you think about how this relates to you.  Look for the opportunity to explore this in Adult Forum as well.
 
--- Carol Chamberlain

Staying in relationship with those affected by dementia

The Rev. Travis Greenman, chaplain at Patriots Colony in Williamsburg and one of our clergy associates, recently gave a compelling talk on Alzheimer's from the standpoint of staying in relationship with those we love, who are living with this heartbreaking disease. I look forward to her next two presentations.

My mother suffered from dementia, and I wish I had known then, what I know now, as well as what Travis offered us, based on her own experience on the job, and as a daughter. Each of us, at some point in our lives will be called to take this journey with someone we care about. How to enter into their landscape, as a respectful and caring tourist on this journey , is a gift in some strange way. For me, as my mother's filter began to slip away, she was the speaker of many truths that she could not bear to utter, for a myriad of reasons ( depending on the subject at hand) when she was burdened with the rules , expectations, and edicts of her generation and family of origin. It was liberating for her, and certainly for me as a daughter with questions.

I offer this from a book I read last month, This is Me Letting You Go by Heidi Priebe. I was able to travel with my mother as new versions of her emerged, and to honor the light she was able to shine on some dark places of our family's story. It changed me, and it changed my heart. I am grateful for the journey.

“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost. But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.”  (from This is Me Letting You Go, by Heidi Priebe)

—- Kathy

PS—- Don't miss Travis' next two presentations on Aug. 11 and 25!