Jump in and have fun…at every age

When I arrived at Luther Crest in 2011, at the age of 76, I had no idea I’d end up writing a book. But it was, after all, a period of starting over.

I had lived in New York State all of my life before my move and had experienced numerous new beginnings: leaving my parents’ home to marry; moving from Brooklyn to Long Island as a young mother; getting divorced; meeting my life partner and moving to his home; retiring from my job as a social worker in the domestic violence field; seeing my partner through his final illness and then moving into a kind of transitional housing situation until Dan the Moving Man carried me off to my new, and probably final, destination, Luther Crest.

I was happy and excited about starting over again.

I loved my small apartment, crammed too full of precious items from my past lives, and I was excited by the novelty of no longer having to eat solitary dinners in front of the TV.

A lot of other things were different, too. I no longer had an excuse not to exercise; there were all kinds of options available, including a swimming pool and water aerobics classes.  I loved water aerobics but hadn’t attended for several years because there had been no classes nearby.

There also was a well-stocked library, interest groups, lectures by some of my learned fellow residents. Had I stumbled into heaven, or what? Well, perhaps some place more like a cruise ship.

When I went to my first meeting of the Luther Crest writers group, I was terrified. I hadn’t written anything that would be judged by others since I had finished classwork for various degrees and certifications I had taken over time.

I could hardly breathe, but the men and women in the group seemed pleased with what I had written; they actually laughed when they were supposed to! I was invited to submit my two pages to the Crest Chronicle for publication.

So that’s how my writing a book came to be.

The friends I met each month in the group were encouraging, sometimes even cajoling me to keep going.

And it began to seem to me that if I was having so much fun in my new environment, it would be nice to urge older adults everywhere to have fun whenever and wherever they could.

One of the most important things I’ve learned as an “old woman” has been to jump in to whatever interests me and have as much fun as I can along the way.

The responsibilities of mid-life can be soul-numbing, so leaving many of them behind opens the way to experiencing things as we did when we were children and the world was new.

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A very old friend told me she read my book on her 80th birthday, when she was feeling depressed by the weight of years, so she started thinking about the joys she’s had along the way.

“It helped,” she said, and I’m glad. We’re going to be this old no matter what, so let’s have fun and thank God for it.

Helen Wernlund
Luther Crest resident & author

Editor’s Note: Little Excursions in the Alternate Universe, by Helen Wernlund, is available from Amazon and Barnes & Noble for $14.95 plus tax. A portion of proceeds benefits the Luther Crest Benevolent Care Endowment Fund.

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Worth the wait

I always wanted to be a mom; in fact, when I was younger, I knew I would adopt someday. I just always knew.

When I was 25, I decided I would go to an information night for foster-to-adopt; this was with another organization than Diakon Adoption & Foster Care. I was a teacher at this point and ready to be a mother.

The training was quick and painless and I was approved. But, if you foster or adopt, you will quickly learn that waiting is part of the experience.

Following approval, I said yes to foster-parenting a girl, but was not selected. Before long, however, I was asked to provide a home for a 15-month-old girl on a foster-to-adopt basis. A few weeks later, the exciting part began and I still recall that day 18 years later: A little girl walking in with her social worker. That was followed, however, 20 minutes later by the toddler’s mother coming by with a different social worker.

I was asked if this was okay. My daughter’s birth mother was young and had not seen her in a while. I agreed; I was new at this and was afraid to say no. But the visit went quickly and painlessly and provided me with the opportunity to meet my child’s birth mother in my home. I knew as well that it would benefit my child to see her two mothers interact in my home. Looking back, I am glad I did this.

In fact, my daughter and I got into the swing of our relationship. She had weekly visits with her birth mom. She always went to her birth mom willingly and always left the visits just as happy. At a young age she understood that she had two moms.

But … I was always waiting for an update, always wondering how long my daughter would stay. Would I adopt her … or would she go back to birth mom?

I think that is probably the hardest part of being a foster parent. You are always waiting.

You wait for the call. You wait for any updates. You wait for court. You wait for termination of parental rights (TPR) or reunification. Luckily, you have things to fill in the wait. You are able to watch a child blossom in your house. You get to bond and create a family. It’s a stressful, yet exciting time.

I was lucky. I had to wait only 10 months for TPR. It was granted by yet again I had to wait—this time for 30 days to see if the birth mother appealed. She did and I went through a year of different appeals, making the time seem like the fastest and longest year I’ve ever experienced. The adoption was finalized just before my daughter’s fourth birthday.

I gave myself a break and enjoyed a quiet life without court dates, social worker visits and everything else that accompanies foster care. I decided that I would try private adoption next, thinking it would be easier. Boy, was I wrong!

Although I was told that as a single mother, I would wait longer because a birth mother, not a social worker, would have to pick me, I waited just three months until news came that my son was born, though seven weeks early. I visited him in the NICU for two weeks, during which time his birth mother left the hospital and could not be found. She had not, however, terminated her parental rights!

But the birth father then said he wanted the child; later, he, too, could not be located. TPR was finally granted on grounds of abandonment—one year later!

My life as a mom of two was great. We went about our day-to-day life and I was enjoying not waiting for court dates and phone calls. Six years later, I gave birth to a daughter. I was now a mom to three! And when my youngest daughter was three years old, I decided to try foster-to-adopt one more time—because I wanted to adopt a boy so that my son could experience having a brother.

I also wanted to take part in an older-child adoption. I wanted to help a child who might not be chosen because of age.

I had heard about Diakon Adoption & Foster Care and contacted the program. From the first call to today, I couldn’t be happier.

All of the people at Diakon have been wonderful and helpful. I went through the training and was ready for the call. But waiting is part of the process; this, I’ve come to know.

While I waited for a boy, I was approached about providing for care for a 12-year-old girl facing several challenges. Diakon needed someone to care for her temporarily while a permanent family was found for her … but, three years later, she is another loved part of my family—adopted.

I now had four children but still felt as if something was missing. I still wanted to adopt a boy.

I went back on the list and was called for a five-year old boy. He stayed with us for four months but had behaviors I could not handle. I felt like such a failure. I knew that I could not give him the help he needed. Diakon was very supportive and helped me during this process and he moved to a home with fewer children. I knew that move was best for him, yet I still found the situation among the more difficult ones I have experienced.

Seven months later, I was called about an 8-year-old boy but he soon returned to his home. I knew that was a possibility in foster-to-adopt, but I was still shocked. Three weeks later, I was called about an 11-year-old boy from a large family. I said yes and headed to his county to pick him up.

The experience changed my life forever.

In fact, I experienced many things for the first time with this placement.

First, I learned how much he missed his siblings. The first night home I said to myself, “I should have taken one of his siblings, too.” I learned how important it can be to try to keep as many siblings together as possible.

Second, I had the wonderful experience of connecting with his birth mother. She has had a hard time in life and needed help and support as much as her children. She truly appreciates all the things foster parents have done for her children. So I learned that if you have the opportunity, you should try to connect with your children’s family. In fact, that connection made the placement so much easier.

Because of the support the mother received, the boy was able to return home in a few months. I was sad to see him go yet so happy for him and his family. They had worked very hard to get back together.

Unfortunately, the situation didn’t last and when I was called about the boy again, I asked to care for one of his siblings so that he wasn’t alone.

So here I am today—a mother of six! I don’t know yet what will happen with the boy and his sister. Will they go home? Will they go to a relative? Or will they stay with me?

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I am always asked by others: How do you do it? How can you sit and wonder each day if these kids will stay or go?

I tell them that it is just part of the foster-to-adopt process. I get through it with lots of support from adoption staff, social workers and others who are going through the same process. I connect with people who are walking the same walk. I use my Diakon staff worker for support. When I am stressed from all the waiting, I reach out to her. She tries to get me information and supports me.

The key to surviving the wait is to surrounding yourself with people who have done the same thing.

But—all this waiting and risk-taking have given me a family! I have grown as a person through these experiences. And I can truly say all of it has been worth the waiting I have done the last 18 years.

If I had to give advice to those just starting the foster-to-adopt process, I would tell them the journey may well be full of highs and lows. I also suggest thinking outside of the box and being flexible. Everyone goes into this with a specific picture of what you want in a family.

However, be open to expand on that picture.

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I also would say to be prepared to be patient. The process can be full of waiting. But it also is full of amazing people who will support you. It is full of children who want to be part of a family. It is full of children who need you for support, love, and safety.

Trust me when I say it is worth the ride.

Stacey
Diakon Adoptive/Foster Care parent

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Rebuilding after Disaster

Colorado. The word conjures images of the majestic Rocky Mountains and herds of Elk roaming freely … thoughts of relaxing in the outdoors … and feelings of awe that we have been blessed by God with such beauty.

Peaceful, isn’t it? In September 2013, however, the region of Weld, Larimer and Boulder counties was anything but peaceful. Heavy rains prompted flash-floods across some 2,000 square miles, destroying or damaging more than 7,000 houses. Miles of roadways were gone.

This spring—thanks in part to Diakon’s Love of Thy Neighbor Fund—I made my eighth trip as a volunteer with Brethren Disaster Ministries—this time traveling to the Loveland and Estes Park areas of Colorado to assist in recovery efforts.

The work is often tiring, reminding me of muscles I didn’t even recall having. My job with Diakon Family Life Services’ Specialized In-Home Treatment Program involves driving, sitting and talking with people, not hammering, dry-wall sanding and painting. Yet both jobs are enormously satisfying as you make a tangible difference in someone’s life—just in different ways.

I enjoyed the time spent working on the homes and learning skills new to me—on-site project leaders instruct volunteers in such tasks as mold-remediation, wall-framing, roofing, plumbing and even cabinet installation. Often, I worked side-by-side with the home owners and listened to their life stories.

The residents told stories of being stranded for days and wondering when or if they were going to be rescued. Of course, with flash-floods there is no warning, no time to prepare, and little chance to gather any possessions or photographs you may hold dear. In fact, I heard stories of people who had to be airlifted from their mountain homes or climbing into trees that towered over their homes because a roof just wasn’t high enough.

A particularly rewarding experience came as we helped a man who consistently had redirected volunteers to his neighbors’ homes “because,” he always said, “they need your help more than I do right now.” Yet he was nearing the end of his approval period for funding, his home still in need of significant repairs. So, in May, my fellow volunteers and I spent time painting ceilings, breathing in more drywall dust than I ever thought possible, finishing interior edges around recently re-installed windows and gutting a bathroom that was breeding mold inside its walls.

By the end of the week there were plans in place for kitchen cabinets to be installed and the homeowners were able to move out of the temporary housing they’d been in since 2013 and into the functioning portion of their home.

We did have time when not working to enjoy some of Colorado’s scenery. I enjoyed a few hours of hiking, as well as falling down a snow-packed hill in Rocky Mountain National Park, walking around a nearby lake and learning some new card games.

Mostly, however, we worked to aid those whose lives had been turned upside down by the flooding. With support from Diakon’s Love of Thy Neighbor Fund, I hope to take more such trips, possibly even another one this year.

 

—Erin Bell

Case Manager
Diakon Family Life Services Specialized In-Home Program (SPIN)

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Remembering the guardian of Topton’s history

I had heard the name Virginia “Ginny” Ebersole numerous times after the 2000 creation of Diakon that brought The Lutheran Home at Topton into my work-life, typically as the guardian of The Lutheran Home’s history as an orphanage.

Because I had a similar role in safeguarding the records of the children’s home operated by Tressler Lutheran Services—my former organization before the Diakon merger—I felt a sort of kinship with Ginny, even though the similarities ended there.

Ginny, after all, had actually grown up in the children’s home and then returned in retirement to the place of her childhood, living in one of independent-living cottages at The Lutheran Home, now a senior living community.

Although I had the privilege to work with Ginny the past two years, I wish I had learned to know her personally sooner because her commitment to protecting and preserving the history of the home was both outstanding and amazing. When someone wanted to know the history of a child who had been served by the home, everyone immediately turned to Ginny for that information.

But no longer. Virginia B. (Baer) Ebersole passed away last Sunday, July 24, at the age of 88.

Ginny lovingly told stories of her time at the home, to which she moved in 1933 when her mother passed away; her father’s work schedule made it difficult for him to take care of his family.

“We spent most days learning and studying, taking part in various activities including plays, and doing chores,” Ginny said during an interview for a 2014 Dialog article about her. “But the most important things we learned were respect, responsibility and how to work.”

When she turned 18, she left the home, typical for children coming of age. She married, raised a family and worked well into her 60s. When she and her late husband retired, the decision to return to Topton was an easy one.

Before long, Ginny became the unofficial archivist for Topton’s records.

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“Ginny worked diligently to preserve the artifacts and rich history of the services provided by the orphanage at The Lutheran Home at Topton,” says Mark Pile, Diakon president/CEO. “She did this excellent volunteer work out of her love for and her personal roots at the orphanage and for the many friendships she maintained with those who lived at Topton, as well as the family and friends who have been part of that history. She will be deeply missed.”

My direct work with Ginny came the last two years as both of us served as members of the committee developing the planned restoration of Old Main, to house a permanency center related to Diakon Adoption & Foster Care—in many ways the direct descendant of the children’s home—and offices for Diakon Ministry Support.

She was very excited about this planned rebirth of the iconic building that in many ways defines The Lutheran Home at Topton campus.

Another communications staff member and I met with Ginny early on in this process to determine the extent of the archives she managed. One issue at the time was that, a year or two before, the original book that contains the names of the children served at Topton had gone missing. While there were copies of those records, Ginny was upset over the loss of this artifact.

During our tour of one section of the archives that day, I asked Ginny to describe the book. As she finished her description, I happened to look over to one shelf and something quite similar to her description caught my eye. I asked, “What is that?”

Her eyes widened and began to gleam. It was the book.

Obviously, whoever had taken the book had returned it to that spot unannounced. While we really had no significant role in finding the book, I have to say it was very gratifying to know that our trip had resulted in returning it to Ginny’s safekeeping.

Our hearts were gladdened just by the look on Ginny’s face.

I wish Ginny had lived to see the Old Main project completed, to see the building refurbished and renovated and serving its original purpose anew. But perhaps it is enough that she knew the project was under way.

And as we work to preserve the history of The Lutheran Home at Topton in this project, I know many of us will think frequently of Ginny.

I know as well that her spirit will be right there with us.

By William Swanger
Senior Vice President
Corporate Communications & Public Relations

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An honor, a privilege

Some believe that knowing your life’s journey is coming to an end can be a blessing of sorts. You have an opportunity to say goodbyes and perhaps even let go on your own terms—but knowing certainly does not always make the process easier.

At Manatawny Manor, we recently helped a chronically ill resident and her family members face such a struggle. Our chaplain, the Rev. Roxi Kringle, has a special way of discussing end-of-life issues. She engages in a heartfelt conversation with individuals and their loved ones, asking about wishes and goals. Is there something the person would like to do, a place to visit, favorite foods?

“Jane”—her name has been changed because of health-care rules—had been a resident of Manatawny Manor for several years but, some months back, we could see that she was declining rapidly. We also noticed that she and her family were having a tough time facing this decline and so we made plans for them to speak with our chaplain.

In that conversation, Roxi learned of Jane’s passion for horses and her desire to be around them one last time. Jane’s daughters very much wanted to make that happen for their mother, in spite of the challenges involved in taking her on such an outing.

But by some miracle—maybe Janes’s guardian angel was pulling a few strings—everything began to fall into place for her wish to become true.

I have a friend who volunteers at Ryerss Farm for Aged Equines in Pottstown, a place for “retired” horses—mostly race horses and those used by police—to live out their days. And so on a Sunday afternoon I accompanied Jane and her husband in Manatawny’s transport van to the horse farm, where we met extended-family members. Although it was late winter, the day was sunny and somewhat mild.

Jane was able to pet, hug and feed the horses.

Two days later, she passed away. Her family held a memorial service at our senior living community and, in her honor, chose to sponsor a horse at Ryerss Farm for a year.

It was an honor and a privilege to have helped Jane and her family, not only by providing daily care to her but also by helping to give her a special day so near the end of her life’s journey.

Kelli Brown, RN
Director of Nursing
Manatawny Manor

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Climbing a phone-tree … to view the past

When you work in communications, your daily tasks can be pretty varied, from developing an entire strategic plan to … well … redoing a phone tree.

What’s a phone tree?

It’s the sequence of options people hear when they call a main number for an organization … you know, “to speak to this program, press 1,” and so on. I don’t do any of the technical phone stuff; rather, I review the sequence of the tree, edit the accompanying text and arrange for the professional recording you hear.

Diakon had not revised its tree for a while and when I began the update process, I found I had quite a few changes to make, sometimes because programs had been transitioned to other providers, sometimes because they had moved geographically or administratively or, in an instance or two, because they had closed.

In some ways, tackling a phone-tree update is a history review.

The process reminds me of the challenges sometimes involved in such transitions. In fact, a friend whose group membership dwindled by the month refused to consider making changes that would have potentially broadened membership. Rather than dilute the group’s primary purpose, he said, he’d rather—like a good captain—go down with the ship. I guess that’s okay, but that approach certainly does not sustain the group’s original purpose. Sort of a lose-lose proposition.

These statements do not make light of the difficulties of some changes. A program closure can certainly mean loss of employment for a number of people.

Yet I’m proud of the fact most of the history reflected in the recent Diakon phone-tree update—because of a refocusing and sharpening of Diakon’s core ministries—represented the transitioning of programs to other organizations providing similar services. In these cases, a win-win proposition.

We may not always have had phone-trees, but our near-150-year history is filled with developments that would have resulted in changes to those trees. Perhaps the most-significant were the closures of our two children’s homes, processes that represented moves to community-based services for children and youths.

Now, a half-century after those closures, we’re set to begin the rebirth of one of those homes’ key buildings, Old Main on the campus of The Lutheran Home at Topton, through a major construction project set to begin late this year. (LINK TO NEWS ARTICLE).

When the work is completed, and a Center for Permanency created on Old Main’s second floor, the building will have come full circle, once again housing services for at-risk children and youths. In addition, Diakon will have emphasized wise stewardship of resources by relocating some Ministry Support offices from leased space to Old Main.

And it will be time for one more phone-tree update.

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Mission possible

My alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I hit snooze. It was still dark outside and I wondered how on earth I would get these teenage girls up and out the door by 5:45 a.m. I flipped on the light after warning them with a 3-2-1 count and then I ran to get in line for the bathroom we shared with about 20 other females in the area to which we’d been assigned in a church.

Thankfully, I had to remind them only once to get up. They knew they had to get to breakfast in time to eat and pack their lunches before heading out to our job sites. The earlier we left, the sooner we could finish before temperatures became unbearable.

This was our morning routine during a youth mission trip to McColl, South Carolina, where about 20 adults and 60 teenagers volunteered to repair broken homes and, while doing so, also fix some broken hearts.

This trip, taken in late June, was my first mission trip with my two younger daughters, who are 16 and 14. I had received approval to use Diakon’s Love of Thy Neighbor fund to assist with the trip; the fund provided extra paid vacation days, as well as some grant money to use toward travel expenses.

After reading stories from co-workers who did mission work and learning how much they helped others beyond what we do during our typical work days, I wanted to do the same thing.

I am not what you would call a “skilled worker” when it comes to any kind of home repair. I thought maybe I could stay behind to prepare meals or oversee teens doing some painting.

Nope.

I was assigned to put a metal roof on a double-wide trailer for an older woman named Mary. My team did not actually include my daughters, but consisted of a jewelry-store owner, a biochemist and several other teenagers. I didn’t know any of them before that week and none of us had ever done roofing.

We basically learned about roofing and one another as the week went on. And to make the situation even more challenging, Mary had a plumbing problem so her water had been shut off. We borrowed water from a neighbor’s hose as we needed it.

As the week progressed and temperatures rose, we became roofers. We shared lunches, tools, stories and sunscreen. Lots of sunscreen. We joked that we would start our own roofing company when we got back to Pennsylvania called Close Enough Roofing because as the day wore on, the measuring tape became a little more subjective.

We never got to meet our homeowner because even though we arrived between 6 and 6:30 each morning, she was already at work. She left her back door unlocked for us to go inside—where she had her window air conditioning units turned on full power for us. It felt like heaven when we stepped inside to take a break.

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On our last day we had to request help from another group that had finished a different roofing project close by. Our roof was 80% covered in metal at that point and the heat index had risen to 104 by the afternoon. Moreover, we had reached a point on the roof where the final section required more-extensive repair than simply screwing on metal panels to the fascia boards we had installed. We needed someone with a little more roofing experience.

About 2 p.m., the other group showed up—and its leader happened also to be a professional roofer. It was like seeing the cavalry ride in! The group dropped off additional volunteers to stay with us and because leaders knew we had already put in a full day on a hot metal roof, they yelled up to our group, asking who wanted to leave.

Nobody left. The mission was too important.

We had become too invested in our team and that roof to abandon each other for the showers, dinner and air mattresses awaiting us at the air-conditioned church. We would work until dark if we needed to but we weren’t leaving until the roof was finished. Thankfully, about 10 hours after we had arrived, we pulled out of Mary’s driveway, having completed the project in time to be back for dinner.

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We never did get to meet Mary, but I did get to meet her sister during our last night there. She was a member of the church that hosted us and she had added Mary’s name to the list of those in need of some much-needed home repair.

She hugged me and cried, telling me we were an answer to her prayers. I thought to myself, God is quite creative. He picked me, a jewelry-store owner, a biochemist and some compassionate teenagers from Pennsylvania to answer the prayers of a dear older woman in South Carolina. And because of that strange, but perfectly orchestrated encounter, my life has been changed, too!

Many of the people our group helped that week could not understand why we would take a week to travel 10 hours to help their community. I couldn’t help but wonder why wouldn’t we do it?

We certainly gained as much as we gave that week: Fresh perspectives, friendships and a better understanding of God’s faithfulness.

I can’t wait to return next year.

By Melissa Kindall
Social Media and Special Communications Project Manager
Corporate Communications & Public Relations

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Where is God?

When “bad things” happen to “innocent” people, many wonder, “Where is or was God?”  “If God is good and loving, why does God cause or allow such suffering?”

After my 35-year-old sister died of cancer, I was very angry at God and had those same burning questions.  With a lot of prayer, reading and conversation with some wise people, I’ve come to the following conclusions:

Always worth it

Adoption has always been something that my husband, Tim, and I knew would be part of how we would build our family. It just didn’t happen exactly as we planned.

Tim and I knew we wanted to have biological children first; later in life, we would adopt. I am a planner—and this was my plan.

What we didn’t expect was that having biological children would be so difficult. After my having had three miscarriages by the age of 22, we decided to see a fertility specialist, who suggested genetic testing. We learned that I had an autoimmune disorder that was likely the cause of the pregnancy losses.

While all of this was occurring, we had begun the process of becoming foster parents with Diakon. We knew we wanted to start our family and we didn’t want to wait.

We received our first placement in February of 2010, a gorgeous little boy who needed a mommy and daddy as badly as we needed him. He was born prematurely, at just 26 weeks’ gestation, and had spent his entire life to that point in a hospital—yet that didn’t affect his amazing and joyful spirit.

Get started!

I’m too out of shape to run. I’ll start after I lose some weight…

Sound familiar?

Mike Leavitt (bib #113 in photo) felt this way for quite some time. He was an athlete in his younger days but work, family and life in general had taken its toll.

At 38 years of age, he felt scared and disgusted at how out of shape he was. And when a friend suggested joining a running program, he thought it was out of the question.

“I’ve never been a runner per se. With flat feet, bad knees and a larger frame, I’m not really built for speed. In addition, my energy level was really low. I wasn’t motivated at all. Never thought I could do it!” he says.