"Patience is a virtue...it's just not one that I have" used to be my mantra.  Once I decide something, I want it to happen right now.  If a craft project can be done in a day, I'm all over it.  If it takes weeks, forget about it.  (Sorry, Alex.  The baby blanket I started knitting for you when I was pregnant is only 3 inches long.  You're 25 now.  Maybe I'll get it done for your baby.)

Lately I've been feeling like I'm better at this patience thing, though.  Starting a new business has given me a lot of practice.  Build outs take 4 months, not 4 weeks as originally planned.  Getting new clients takes time.  Everything takes more time than expected.  But things usually do happen eventually.  And I've been OK with all of that.  I'm still pretty calm 3 years into the process.

So I guess God has decided that I need a deeper understanding of patience.  Gram is in my daily life now.  With her short term memory loss and strong desire to go back to her independent life.  She can't live alone again.  I know it.  Mom knows it.  Uncle Gary knows it.  It's not an option.  But Gram doesn't know it and can't accept it.  Oh, my.

This morning I had every intention of making it a bright and wonderful Monday.  We slept in a little.  Gram woke up happy and not in much pain.  I gave her the pain medication, Jim had coffee ready for her.  I got ready for work, she got ready for the day.  Then over breakfast the questions began.  "When are you taking me home?"  "Why can't I go home alone?"  "What is it you think I'd do there?"  "So you think I'm crazy, then?"  "Who decided this?"

Now I'm a trained professional.  I know not to try to reason with a person who can no longer reason.  I know it's best to calmly change the subject.  I know I shouldn't try to explain for the 500th time why she can't go home.  Did that stop me from having the argument again?  Nope. 

So we went through all of the reasons why.  We went through them again.  She got upset, went upstairs and is in her bedroom...alone.  It's not home, but she's getting the few minutes she needs to re-group.  And me?  Well, I'm getting a few minutes to re-group too.

Rule number one for caregivers:  Be Patient.

Rule number two for caregivers:  Forgive yourself when you're not.

Rule number three:  Start all over again.  She won't remember the argument you just had.  She will respond to a loving voice.  Go back in there and re-start the day.

But, still...where is that patience I ordered, God?