I have seen many beautiful things in my 42 years of life. The awesome hues of a sunset (never a sunrise- too early), spring making its way by clothing trees and bushes with vibrant color, autumn dressing the trees in beautiful shades of yellows, reds and oranges. I have seen the beauty of my husband's smile as I walked down the aisle, the awesome gorgeousness of my newborn daughters, even covered in the schmutz of their birth, the love in my parents eyes. Newborn kittens in their fuzzy glory, beautiful flowers given with love, streams flowing over rocks on a clear sunny day.
However, today I saw a beauty that tops all of that- in the hand of an elderly gentleman- a parchment looking hand with long tapered fingers and perfectly oval nails. The skin was pulled and wrinkled, the fingers bony, the palm once strong now weak.
I know it doesn't sound very lovely. But I looked deeper and here is what I saw.
A chubby baby hand, with dimples in the fingers, grasping at air and waving tiny fingers with barely there nails. I saw the hand of a little boy, playing with blocks, trying to stack them with chubby fingers barely managing the intricate task. I saw the hands of a slightly older boy grasping the handles of a bicycle- squeezing tightly- trying to steer on only two wheels. I saw the hand of a teenage boy shyly reaching for the hand of a young girl thrilling with the soft warm contact.
I saw the hand of the young many reaching out with a ring to present to his future bride- trembling a bit but sure of itself. And I saw the hand of a young serviceman doing his job, fighting for his country. I saw the hand tenderly caressing the face of his young wife, touching her swollen belly in awe. I saw the large strong hands gently cradling his new born baby, softly exploring the tender skin, lightly rubbing the fuzz covered head.
I saw the hands of a career man working to provide for his family. I saw hands raising a drink in celebration of a promotion, shaking the hand of a co-worker in appreciation of a job well done, laboring over tedious paper work.
I saw the hands of a retired man, now getting tired but still doing what God intended for them to do.
And now I see the hands of an elderly gentleman, shaking a bit as he drinks from a cup, grasping a fork as he feeds himself, gripping the edge of a blanket in pain, lying sedately as he drifts into sleep. These hands have seen a life time of joy, of sorrow, of love, of pain. These aged hands tell stories, these aged hands are beautiful. And one day these aged hands will finally be still.
It amazes me to think that they were once chubby little baby hands and that they have lived such a full life. I am privilaged to be able to hold these hands, to gently stroke these hands, to lay a tiny kiss on these hands.
Beauty comes in all forms. Even in places we would never think to look.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
The effects of old age restrictions on a 42 year old mind
My mother has recently, frequently told me not to get old- that its the pits. Now I don't think she is wishing me an early demise, but rather telling me that aging is not a fun or graceful process.
Today that reality was brought home to me in a forceful way. I was sitting with a friend on the porch of an assisted living facility, just chewing the fat and spending some time rocking. Out of nowhere, this seemingly content man started to share some angry thoughts with me. He told me he was tired of not having any freedom any more. He wished he could walk down the road to the bank, or the tobacco store. He was tired of everyone watching each step he took. He was tired of not being able to go home- where he would have some privacy to do whatever he wanted to do- where he could walk from room to room without the eyes of people following his movements. He wanted to be able to come and go and do what he wanted. He sheepishly grinned and said "What I want to do? I don't know. But I want to be able to do it".
We talked about it for a bit- I told him there was nothing I could do to help him- that I knew he was always an independent man and I knew it had to be hard to have people keep an eye on him all the time. I told him it was for his safety, and because people cared. But I knew that meant little to him. All he could see was the years previous, where he was a man with a life that was his own.
I told him I knew I would be in his shoes one day- and I was sorry his unhappiness. He asked me how I would be in his shoes, and I told him that either through age or illness, my life would not always be my own. There will probably come a time when I am under the care of someone else who dictates my movements and there are no longer actions taken on a whim.
I left him shortly there after- not until we lightened the mood and he got a hug and a kiss goodbye and a promise for a visit Wednesday- I had a great deal of difficulty leaving him there- I wanted to pack him away in my car and bring him home with me- to take him out to eat and give him a chance to get out and about - away from all the "old people" and around the world.
And in the car on the way home my mind was racing- which is par for the course these days. I fast forwarded to what my life would be like down the road- then to what my parents lives would be like in the next couple decades- I would never divulge age but my mother is not the 39 she claims- just an fyi- she would have had to have given birth to me while she herself was still a fetus- or not even that! :) sorry ma!!! :)
Then I started with the really deep introspection- and I realized I have already put myself in that nursing home- that facility with restraints- that world that doesn't allow me any freedom like my old friend...Only I have done this to myself. Gone are the days of flying by the seat of my pants- the days of doing on a whim- the days when I branch out and explore all the wonders of this amazing world God has created. I have entombed myself in a tiny tiny chamber I call my life...granted I can get in my car every day and go to work, or the store, or the mall, or see my family. I have a home filled with things I enjoy- pets that make me happy. I have two beautiful daughters and an amazing husband that I learn to appreciate more with every year that passes...but yet, I have allowed myself to succumb to a joyless existence that has robbed me of happiness and the freedom to enjoy life.
At 42, it is not too late to make changes. I realize I have the ability to get out of the trap I have allowed myself to think is my life- I don't have to stay mired in this place. I don't know how I allowed my mind to become so closed to life's possibilities- how I felt obliged to remain in certain circumstances and just suck it up and accept that this is how it has to be.
I have realized after talking to my friend, I don't want to be in his shoes now. I don't want to feel as though my life has been scripted for me- that I can only go from point a to point b and there is no sidetrack to q. Sometimes I think q could be a pretty amazingly fun place to be maybe.
So here I am, on the old blog again, sorting my thoughts, and making a promise- that I will make some changes. I will do it for my friend who cannot. Once again, I will find my way back to the relationship I want to have with my God- I will look for the beauty in every day- I will take a new route home from work, and then I will find a new place to work- I will quit getting bogged down in things I cannot change, I will change my circumstances, not let them change me. And in time, I will be carefree and happy again- that is the promise I make. I cannot wait to see what the future holds.
Today that reality was brought home to me in a forceful way. I was sitting with a friend on the porch of an assisted living facility, just chewing the fat and spending some time rocking. Out of nowhere, this seemingly content man started to share some angry thoughts with me. He told me he was tired of not having any freedom any more. He wished he could walk down the road to the bank, or the tobacco store. He was tired of everyone watching each step he took. He was tired of not being able to go home- where he would have some privacy to do whatever he wanted to do- where he could walk from room to room without the eyes of people following his movements. He wanted to be able to come and go and do what he wanted. He sheepishly grinned and said "What I want to do? I don't know. But I want to be able to do it".
We talked about it for a bit- I told him there was nothing I could do to help him- that I knew he was always an independent man and I knew it had to be hard to have people keep an eye on him all the time. I told him it was for his safety, and because people cared. But I knew that meant little to him. All he could see was the years previous, where he was a man with a life that was his own.
I told him I knew I would be in his shoes one day- and I was sorry his unhappiness. He asked me how I would be in his shoes, and I told him that either through age or illness, my life would not always be my own. There will probably come a time when I am under the care of someone else who dictates my movements and there are no longer actions taken on a whim.
I left him shortly there after- not until we lightened the mood and he got a hug and a kiss goodbye and a promise for a visit Wednesday- I had a great deal of difficulty leaving him there- I wanted to pack him away in my car and bring him home with me- to take him out to eat and give him a chance to get out and about - away from all the "old people" and around the world.
And in the car on the way home my mind was racing- which is par for the course these days. I fast forwarded to what my life would be like down the road- then to what my parents lives would be like in the next couple decades- I would never divulge age but my mother is not the 39 she claims- just an fyi- she would have had to have given birth to me while she herself was still a fetus- or not even that! :) sorry ma!!! :)
Then I started with the really deep introspection- and I realized I have already put myself in that nursing home- that facility with restraints- that world that doesn't allow me any freedom like my old friend...Only I have done this to myself. Gone are the days of flying by the seat of my pants- the days of doing on a whim- the days when I branch out and explore all the wonders of this amazing world God has created. I have entombed myself in a tiny tiny chamber I call my life...granted I can get in my car every day and go to work, or the store, or the mall, or see my family. I have a home filled with things I enjoy- pets that make me happy. I have two beautiful daughters and an amazing husband that I learn to appreciate more with every year that passes...but yet, I have allowed myself to succumb to a joyless existence that has robbed me of happiness and the freedom to enjoy life.
At 42, it is not too late to make changes. I realize I have the ability to get out of the trap I have allowed myself to think is my life- I don't have to stay mired in this place. I don't know how I allowed my mind to become so closed to life's possibilities- how I felt obliged to remain in certain circumstances and just suck it up and accept that this is how it has to be.
I have realized after talking to my friend, I don't want to be in his shoes now. I don't want to feel as though my life has been scripted for me- that I can only go from point a to point b and there is no sidetrack to q. Sometimes I think q could be a pretty amazingly fun place to be maybe.
So here I am, on the old blog again, sorting my thoughts, and making a promise- that I will make some changes. I will do it for my friend who cannot. Once again, I will find my way back to the relationship I want to have with my God- I will look for the beauty in every day- I will take a new route home from work, and then I will find a new place to work- I will quit getting bogged down in things I cannot change, I will change my circumstances, not let them change me. And in time, I will be carefree and happy again- that is the promise I make. I cannot wait to see what the future holds.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
what my hospice visit is like
Another gloomy Saturday and all I want to do is go back to bed after seeing Courtney off to carowinds at 7am. But duty calls.
I volunteered with Hospice last summer and have been working with the same patient for months. I adore her, but I'll be honest- when its gloomy outside and my hair refuses to do anything resembling normalcy, the last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed and heading out to the nursing home on my Saturday morning- when I could be going back to bed.
However, it is a commitment I have made and it is something I know I need to do. So instead of playing sick and hiding under the covers, I pull on my clothes, get in my car and head out.
Entering the nursing home is like entering another world. There are tables set up inside the entrance which seat four...some of them have one or two people at them. There are scattered patients in wheelchairs and a few on the couch watching the tv- though the birds they have are so loud its a wonder that they can hear the tv over the chirping and chatter. These people are beautiful people if you look closely- if you can see past the bent over bodies, the vacant eyes, the drooling lips, the damaged bodies. If you look them in the eye and say a cheery "good morning", life comes into those eyes and they very congenially wish you a good morning back...at least some of them do. Others I just pat a hand and wish them a good day and they stare in uncomprehension- but I can't help but feel that human touch connects with them somewhere.
After I make my way through the lobby and sign in, I head to my patient's room. She is usually lying on her bed, oxygen hooked up to her nose and ordinarily is dozing. Today I sat in "my" chair and watched her for a few minutes until she stirred. Her skin is so papery and has an almost waxy look, her body is thin and she looks rather weak...and it scares me a bit as I've never seen her look this "old" before...but she opens her eyes and greets me and my fears subside...she is still full of life.
She has a quick smile when she is amused...she answers questions as succintly as possible and sometimes conversation lulls, so we sit companionably until the next topic strikes one of us. It is not always comfortable...I'm not sure that anyone is completely comfortable with silence, but its ok...I am getting used to not feeling like every quiet moment must be filled.
We talk about families, her health, what she has been up to which is usually nothing, and I share about my kids activities and my life.
Today her roommate paid me a high compliment and it got us on the topic of Revelation- she said if you didn't know better you would think the author of Revelation must have been on lsd...that its a scary book and she is afraid of armageddon. Which led to conversation about salvation. It was interesting...I asked if she had asked Jesus into her life and she said yes she had...over and over again in case it didn't take. (which reminds me of when I was a child and thought the same thing). She quoted sins of the Bible such as sexual sin and dabauchery and some other big words... which led to discussion of how once Christ is in your heart, your sins- future, present and past- are all forgiven. She was quick to point out to me that she was not involved in sexual sin. I appreciated that divulgence.
After I gave her a pen as she had lost hers- you would have thought I gave her a gold bar or a sparkling diamond she was so happy to have that pen- I turned my attention back to my patient.
We sat for a while and chatted a bit and her eyes kept closing so I knew it was time to go. I took her hand in mine and prayed with her...it was a very precious and filling moment...it was a chance to commune with her and God at the same time and it is one of my favorite parts of the visit. Then I told her to take a nap before lunch and that I would be back next week.
I got up to leave and her roommate thanked me again for the pen- I think I will buy her a package of pens before I return next week- and I walked back out through the lobby. I passed the same lady I saw on the way in- a very lovely older lady with smooth cocoa skin and beautiful white hair and I chatted with her for a minute before I left.
On the way to my car I was so thankful I had put my selfish desire to stay at home aside and had gone on to what I knew would be a blessing. As I got in my car I found myself wishing I could turn around and go back, but I knew my patient needed her rest so I went on home...grateful for all that I have even though it is not much compared to what a lot of people have.
This has been on of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. What a blessing she has been to my life...even when conversation lulls, even when I'm having a bad day and would rather be wallowing in my selfish misery, I cannot imagine a better way to spend my time.
I have heard several people say that they could never do it...that it would be too sad...that it would be too hard...that its a "wonderful thing" that I am doing. But I don't see it that way. Its not sad or hard, and as far as a wonderful thing- I don't view it as doing "a wonderful thing"- but merely spending time with someone who has lived a wonderfully full life, who is dying and who puts up with my inane conversation and who I have grown to love, and who deserves to have attention paid to her- to help give her life in her life. I almost feel selfish doing it as I end up feeling so full when I leave.
I know the day will come when my patient is no longer here- and I will miss her greatly, and her roommates and their quirkiness too! It will be a very hard moment for me, but I knew that was part of the hospice deal going in and so I am as prepared as I can be for that moment.
God is good. He has blessed me in so many ways in my life. And all the unimportant things fall away when I get the privilage of doing something so wonderful as volunteering for them. And I am grateful and thankful that I have the precious patient I have.
So thats my visit...it was only an hour today but thats ok...we will have next week to catch up on the nothing she did all week and the stuff that makes up my life. And I look forward to it.
Of course, next Saturday will probably be another morning when I wake up and think "I really don't want to go anywhere this morning" but I will, and I will be better for doing it.
I volunteered with Hospice last summer and have been working with the same patient for months. I adore her, but I'll be honest- when its gloomy outside and my hair refuses to do anything resembling normalcy, the last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed and heading out to the nursing home on my Saturday morning- when I could be going back to bed.
However, it is a commitment I have made and it is something I know I need to do. So instead of playing sick and hiding under the covers, I pull on my clothes, get in my car and head out.
Entering the nursing home is like entering another world. There are tables set up inside the entrance which seat four...some of them have one or two people at them. There are scattered patients in wheelchairs and a few on the couch watching the tv- though the birds they have are so loud its a wonder that they can hear the tv over the chirping and chatter. These people are beautiful people if you look closely- if you can see past the bent over bodies, the vacant eyes, the drooling lips, the damaged bodies. If you look them in the eye and say a cheery "good morning", life comes into those eyes and they very congenially wish you a good morning back...at least some of them do. Others I just pat a hand and wish them a good day and they stare in uncomprehension- but I can't help but feel that human touch connects with them somewhere.
After I make my way through the lobby and sign in, I head to my patient's room. She is usually lying on her bed, oxygen hooked up to her nose and ordinarily is dozing. Today I sat in "my" chair and watched her for a few minutes until she stirred. Her skin is so papery and has an almost waxy look, her body is thin and she looks rather weak...and it scares me a bit as I've never seen her look this "old" before...but she opens her eyes and greets me and my fears subside...she is still full of life.
She has a quick smile when she is amused...she answers questions as succintly as possible and sometimes conversation lulls, so we sit companionably until the next topic strikes one of us. It is not always comfortable...I'm not sure that anyone is completely comfortable with silence, but its ok...I am getting used to not feeling like every quiet moment must be filled.
We talk about families, her health, what she has been up to which is usually nothing, and I share about my kids activities and my life.
Today her roommate paid me a high compliment and it got us on the topic of Revelation- she said if you didn't know better you would think the author of Revelation must have been on lsd...that its a scary book and she is afraid of armageddon. Which led to conversation about salvation. It was interesting...I asked if she had asked Jesus into her life and she said yes she had...over and over again in case it didn't take. (which reminds me of when I was a child and thought the same thing). She quoted sins of the Bible such as sexual sin and dabauchery and some other big words... which led to discussion of how once Christ is in your heart, your sins- future, present and past- are all forgiven. She was quick to point out to me that she was not involved in sexual sin. I appreciated that divulgence.
After I gave her a pen as she had lost hers- you would have thought I gave her a gold bar or a sparkling diamond she was so happy to have that pen- I turned my attention back to my patient.
We sat for a while and chatted a bit and her eyes kept closing so I knew it was time to go. I took her hand in mine and prayed with her...it was a very precious and filling moment...it was a chance to commune with her and God at the same time and it is one of my favorite parts of the visit. Then I told her to take a nap before lunch and that I would be back next week.
I got up to leave and her roommate thanked me again for the pen- I think I will buy her a package of pens before I return next week- and I walked back out through the lobby. I passed the same lady I saw on the way in- a very lovely older lady with smooth cocoa skin and beautiful white hair and I chatted with her for a minute before I left.
On the way to my car I was so thankful I had put my selfish desire to stay at home aside and had gone on to what I knew would be a blessing. As I got in my car I found myself wishing I could turn around and go back, but I knew my patient needed her rest so I went on home...grateful for all that I have even though it is not much compared to what a lot of people have.
This has been on of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. What a blessing she has been to my life...even when conversation lulls, even when I'm having a bad day and would rather be wallowing in my selfish misery, I cannot imagine a better way to spend my time.
I have heard several people say that they could never do it...that it would be too sad...that it would be too hard...that its a "wonderful thing" that I am doing. But I don't see it that way. Its not sad or hard, and as far as a wonderful thing- I don't view it as doing "a wonderful thing"- but merely spending time with someone who has lived a wonderfully full life, who is dying and who puts up with my inane conversation and who I have grown to love, and who deserves to have attention paid to her- to help give her life in her life. I almost feel selfish doing it as I end up feeling so full when I leave.
I know the day will come when my patient is no longer here- and I will miss her greatly, and her roommates and their quirkiness too! It will be a very hard moment for me, but I knew that was part of the hospice deal going in and so I am as prepared as I can be for that moment.
God is good. He has blessed me in so many ways in my life. And all the unimportant things fall away when I get the privilage of doing something so wonderful as volunteering for them. And I am grateful and thankful that I have the precious patient I have.
So thats my visit...it was only an hour today but thats ok...we will have next week to catch up on the nothing she did all week and the stuff that makes up my life. And I look forward to it.
Of course, next Saturday will probably be another morning when I wake up and think "I really don't want to go anywhere this morning" but I will, and I will be better for doing it.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
my kate my thoughts- a short post
I'm sitting in a quiet house reflecting on the past 17 years with my katy and wondering where in the world time went. You see, tonight is her junior prom and she was whisked away earlier this evening...kerry and courtney have gone out and I am alone with too much time staring me in the face.
There are so many memories flashing through my mind... I remember when I went into labor with her and went to the hospital- it was scary and exciting and one of the best moments of my life. She was born and they handed me this gooze covered alien looking creature and I realized at that moment I never had anything so precious in my posession before. I held her constantly, her sweaty little head tucked under my chin with her rump in the air breathing softly...I miss those moments.
Then she grew...she has always been a beautiful girl- but at 3 in her cinderella gown dancing with a katy sized elmo was one of the most beautiful memories I have of her...her innocence...her blonde hair swinging while she danced...her chubby little cheeks.
And she grew and started school...that was a toughie- watching those little legs try to climb up on the school bus...she was so little and the bus swallowed her up and took her to school- and away from me- and toward her future and it made me sad but proud.
And time marched on. We have had a wonderful time watching her grow into the beautiful young lady she has become...she's always been an old soul- she has impressed me with her though processes over time...she is awesome. And she is growing up.
I miss the little girl she was but I love the young lady she has become. We have had our bad moments, our sad moments, our giggly moments, our serious talks...we have shared so much over the years.
And yet, I always worry...have I done enough? Is she really prepared for life? Has the way we have raised her been full of mistakes or did we do a good job. Did I spend enough time with her or did I let life get in the way?
She is a strong girl...but there will always be someone prettier, someone with more stuff, someone smarter, someone more talented...I wish I could spare her the hurts that the future surely will bring to her but I can't.
I love my daughters. I pray for them. I am sure I could have done more with the time I've had with them but I cannot turn time back.
So I watch her get into a car with a boy on the way to the prom...praying for safety and a fun time...reliving the past...pondering the future...
Dear God please watch over my baby!
There are so many memories flashing through my mind... I remember when I went into labor with her and went to the hospital- it was scary and exciting and one of the best moments of my life. She was born and they handed me this gooze covered alien looking creature and I realized at that moment I never had anything so precious in my posession before. I held her constantly, her sweaty little head tucked under my chin with her rump in the air breathing softly...I miss those moments.
Then she grew...she has always been a beautiful girl- but at 3 in her cinderella gown dancing with a katy sized elmo was one of the most beautiful memories I have of her...her innocence...her blonde hair swinging while she danced...her chubby little cheeks.
And she grew and started school...that was a toughie- watching those little legs try to climb up on the school bus...she was so little and the bus swallowed her up and took her to school- and away from me- and toward her future and it made me sad but proud.
And time marched on. We have had a wonderful time watching her grow into the beautiful young lady she has become...she's always been an old soul- she has impressed me with her though processes over time...she is awesome. And she is growing up.
I miss the little girl she was but I love the young lady she has become. We have had our bad moments, our sad moments, our giggly moments, our serious talks...we have shared so much over the years.
And yet, I always worry...have I done enough? Is she really prepared for life? Has the way we have raised her been full of mistakes or did we do a good job. Did I spend enough time with her or did I let life get in the way?
She is a strong girl...but there will always be someone prettier, someone with more stuff, someone smarter, someone more talented...I wish I could spare her the hurts that the future surely will bring to her but I can't.
I love my daughters. I pray for them. I am sure I could have done more with the time I've had with them but I cannot turn time back.
So I watch her get into a car with a boy on the way to the prom...praying for safety and a fun time...reliving the past...pondering the future...
Dear God please watch over my baby!
Friday, April 13, 2012
My belief and some thoughts
I have been doing a lot of thinking and reading lately--- I am reading throught the New Testament of the Bible, and have been perusing several Christian books. I have also been examining my life, trying to see where I fall short and make some changes.
I am a Christian. I am unashamed to say that I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I believe the Bible to be infallible, though I do not understand all of it. I believe as it is written in the Bible that all scripture is God breathed, and even though men wrote the books, I believe God guided their hands to put His words to paper. I believe that God created the world, and has the power to destroy it. I believe that Jesus was born of a virgin and that he was crucified to pay the ulitmate sacrifice for our sins, died and rose again three days later and then ascended to Heaven to sit at the right hand of God. I believe He will come again to bring His church home to him. This is, in a nutshell, what I believe.
I also believe that everyone has the right to believe as they choose. God gave us this freedom of choice so that we could CHOOSE Him. He did not want to demand our love from us, but wants us to freely give it to Him. There are many other religions in the world- I do not believe in any of them, but I do believe that the people who practice them have the right to do so. I would not want someone of another faith to bash me over the head with their holy book and tell me I am wrong in what I believe and tell me I am going to be damned if I don't change my beliefs. I believe that as Christians we are called to share the Word, with love, and to show by our actions what Christ taught. I believe it is the job of the Holy Spirit to convict hearts and change lives.
I believe God called us to love our neighbors as ourselves. I believe that means everyone- as in people who don't believe as we do, who don't live as we do, who oppose us and our beliefs, who are engaged in sinful lives, who are rich or poor, pretty or not so much, dressed in rags or to the nines...the list goes on and on. We are all His creation- I believe- His children. There is no one man or woman who is better than any other. Their behavior may be better, but their inherent worth is not more.
I believe in freedom of speech- I believe that is one of the greatest freedoms our country has. And if we try to quell the voices of those with whom we don't agree, we stand the chance of having our voices silenced as well. Do we want to live in a country where we are not allowed by law to speak freely of our Christian faith? If we try to silence the others, that is exactly where we will end up. Not a pleasant thought.
I know of Christians who think it is a noble deed and an example of God's love to speak to a cashier of another race at the grocery store and wish them a good day. Granted any nice action is an example of God's love, but if that is as far as we go then I don't believe it is enough. In the Bible I believe it was Paul who encouraged Christians to fellowship with other Christians- it keeps us on a straight path and among people who will help us to do as we are supposed to. I totally agree with Christian fellowship...it does work- it does surround us with others of like minds and behaviors and tamps down the temptation to do what we know is wrong. However, if Christians only hang out with other Christians, how will the rest of the world ever know about Christianity? I believe we need to get in the trenches, if you will, among others who do not believe as we do...I'm not saying we need to hang out in bars, but what about befriending others who don't believe as we do. Or don't live their lives as we as Christians are supposed to. Or are of a different socio-economic class. Etc.
I am a sinner... I will be until the day I die. I cannot help it- I fall short on a daily basis...not on purpose but because I am human.
These are just some things that have been on my mind lately. I really think we need to step into the shoes of others before we become critical of who or what they are. We need to try to understand where others are coming from- to love them as Christ loved the world. He hung out with some of the most disreputable people of his day, and through his love and understanding and righteousness, changed lives.
I am a Christian and unashamed to say so.
I am a Christian. I am unashamed to say that I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I believe the Bible to be infallible, though I do not understand all of it. I believe as it is written in the Bible that all scripture is God breathed, and even though men wrote the books, I believe God guided their hands to put His words to paper. I believe that God created the world, and has the power to destroy it. I believe that Jesus was born of a virgin and that he was crucified to pay the ulitmate sacrifice for our sins, died and rose again three days later and then ascended to Heaven to sit at the right hand of God. I believe He will come again to bring His church home to him. This is, in a nutshell, what I believe.
I also believe that everyone has the right to believe as they choose. God gave us this freedom of choice so that we could CHOOSE Him. He did not want to demand our love from us, but wants us to freely give it to Him. There are many other religions in the world- I do not believe in any of them, but I do believe that the people who practice them have the right to do so. I would not want someone of another faith to bash me over the head with their holy book and tell me I am wrong in what I believe and tell me I am going to be damned if I don't change my beliefs. I believe that as Christians we are called to share the Word, with love, and to show by our actions what Christ taught. I believe it is the job of the Holy Spirit to convict hearts and change lives.
I believe God called us to love our neighbors as ourselves. I believe that means everyone- as in people who don't believe as we do, who don't live as we do, who oppose us and our beliefs, who are engaged in sinful lives, who are rich or poor, pretty or not so much, dressed in rags or to the nines...the list goes on and on. We are all His creation- I believe- His children. There is no one man or woman who is better than any other. Their behavior may be better, but their inherent worth is not more.
I believe in freedom of speech- I believe that is one of the greatest freedoms our country has. And if we try to quell the voices of those with whom we don't agree, we stand the chance of having our voices silenced as well. Do we want to live in a country where we are not allowed by law to speak freely of our Christian faith? If we try to silence the others, that is exactly where we will end up. Not a pleasant thought.
I know of Christians who think it is a noble deed and an example of God's love to speak to a cashier of another race at the grocery store and wish them a good day. Granted any nice action is an example of God's love, but if that is as far as we go then I don't believe it is enough. In the Bible I believe it was Paul who encouraged Christians to fellowship with other Christians- it keeps us on a straight path and among people who will help us to do as we are supposed to. I totally agree with Christian fellowship...it does work- it does surround us with others of like minds and behaviors and tamps down the temptation to do what we know is wrong. However, if Christians only hang out with other Christians, how will the rest of the world ever know about Christianity? I believe we need to get in the trenches, if you will, among others who do not believe as we do...I'm not saying we need to hang out in bars, but what about befriending others who don't believe as we do. Or don't live their lives as we as Christians are supposed to. Or are of a different socio-economic class. Etc.
I am a sinner... I will be until the day I die. I cannot help it- I fall short on a daily basis...not on purpose but because I am human.
These are just some things that have been on my mind lately. I really think we need to step into the shoes of others before we become critical of who or what they are. We need to try to understand where others are coming from- to love them as Christ loved the world. He hung out with some of the most disreputable people of his day, and through his love and understanding and righteousness, changed lives.
I am a Christian and unashamed to say so.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
when a balloon is not just a balloon...
I have been feeling really bad about myself lately. I have gained an unacceptable amount of weight- this has led me to extreme unhappiness which has led to excessive hair coloring which has led to excessive hair breakage which has led to hair much shorter than I want which has led to me feeling bad about myself. I've come full circle on the feeling crappy wheel...not that looks are everything, but I used to be thin and look fairly good- and now...yeesh...its just not fabulous!
At any rate there are certain times in life when the focus is totally taken off me and put in a much better place. Take my hospice work for instance. I feel so amazing when I leave my patient on saturdays...and my daughter has decided to go to the nursing home where she lives and play the piano to entertain the residents. Now that makes me feel good and proud. Sometimes its the little things.
Today was another one of those days. I was at work in the FMC gift shop this morning feeling fat and listening to my thighs rub together when a customer came in. He was an ordinary looking man, mid 70's, dressed in a sweater and polo shirt and a pair of khakis. He asked if helium came with the balloons and my first thought was "no, we give you a flat balloon and you just have to hold it up in the air. duh"...but I stopped that thought and told the man of course it did and asked how I could help him further. He told me he wanted a balloon for his wifes 75th birthday which she was going to be spending in the hospital. I told him I hoped she was ok and would have a decent birthday- as decent as it could be in the hospital.
He got tears in his eyes and told me his story. His wife had come into the hospital over two months ago with a bleeding ulcer...they had to give her God only knows how many units of blood and she just hasn't really ever woken up. He said that she wouldn't even see the balloon, but felt maybe she might know its there and it may cheer her. He told me she is on the palliative floor now- where they just keep you comfortable and she will probably pass away without them ever exchanging words again. He said he loved her and told me how long they had been married.
Well, I was bound and determined to make this the most beautiful balloon the hospital had ever seen...he chose one and I deck it out with tons of ribbon and made it look as nice as possible. Then he asked how much he owed me.
How do you put a price on that? How can I tell him, "sir, this balloon that your wife will never see really only costs a pittance, but has worth beyond measure because once again, my soul has been touched by another person and my day won't be the same. Sir, this balloon is $3.25 plus tax, but its value is by far greater than that because of the love behind it, because your wife won't see it but you love her so very much that you need her to have it"...how do you say any of that?
So I just said, "don't worry about it sir. You just take that balloon to your wife and make it the best birthday you can, and may God bless you both". He thanked me and teared up again and took his cheery balloon on up to his wife. And I took out my wallet and paid for that balloon, because it was the only thing I could possibly do for that dear man.
I hear stories frequently that touch my heart, but I think that sweet precious man will stay with me for a long time. And ya know what, I didn't feel fat, I didn't feel ugly. I felt privilaged. I felt grateful. I felt love.
At any rate there are certain times in life when the focus is totally taken off me and put in a much better place. Take my hospice work for instance. I feel so amazing when I leave my patient on saturdays...and my daughter has decided to go to the nursing home where she lives and play the piano to entertain the residents. Now that makes me feel good and proud. Sometimes its the little things.
Today was another one of those days. I was at work in the FMC gift shop this morning feeling fat and listening to my thighs rub together when a customer came in. He was an ordinary looking man, mid 70's, dressed in a sweater and polo shirt and a pair of khakis. He asked if helium came with the balloons and my first thought was "no, we give you a flat balloon and you just have to hold it up in the air. duh"...but I stopped that thought and told the man of course it did and asked how I could help him further. He told me he wanted a balloon for his wifes 75th birthday which she was going to be spending in the hospital. I told him I hoped she was ok and would have a decent birthday- as decent as it could be in the hospital.
He got tears in his eyes and told me his story. His wife had come into the hospital over two months ago with a bleeding ulcer...they had to give her God only knows how many units of blood and she just hasn't really ever woken up. He said that she wouldn't even see the balloon, but felt maybe she might know its there and it may cheer her. He told me she is on the palliative floor now- where they just keep you comfortable and she will probably pass away without them ever exchanging words again. He said he loved her and told me how long they had been married.
Well, I was bound and determined to make this the most beautiful balloon the hospital had ever seen...he chose one and I deck it out with tons of ribbon and made it look as nice as possible. Then he asked how much he owed me.
How do you put a price on that? How can I tell him, "sir, this balloon that your wife will never see really only costs a pittance, but has worth beyond measure because once again, my soul has been touched by another person and my day won't be the same. Sir, this balloon is $3.25 plus tax, but its value is by far greater than that because of the love behind it, because your wife won't see it but you love her so very much that you need her to have it"...how do you say any of that?
So I just said, "don't worry about it sir. You just take that balloon to your wife and make it the best birthday you can, and may God bless you both". He thanked me and teared up again and took his cheery balloon on up to his wife. And I took out my wallet and paid for that balloon, because it was the only thing I could possibly do for that dear man.
I hear stories frequently that touch my heart, but I think that sweet precious man will stay with me for a long time. And ya know what, I didn't feel fat, I didn't feel ugly. I felt privilaged. I felt grateful. I felt love.
Monday, February 13, 2012
love is not gagging when I urp!
What is love? True love?? There are millions of flowery hallmark cards that say such beautiful and sappy things that just aren't me. I mean, they obviously have great sentiment or they wouldn't be a billion dollar industry, but lets get real for a minute, love is more than that. I would like to see a hallmark card that tells it the way it is.
Love is holding my hair back when I puke and not gagging.
Love is seeing me all evening in my pj's with wet hair slicked back and no make-up and still thinking I'm beautiful.
Love is an exclamation of awe at the "beautiful purple" placenta I have just delivered post baby.
Love is getting up at night and feeding the baby because even though I'm not working, I'm exhausted.
Love is going to Wal-mart for something I forgot after you've had a long day at work.
Love is helping to clean up kid puke, while gagging, while I clean up pukey kids.
Love is working hard and earning a living to keep our family going.
Love is dealing with my moods and still sticking around.
Love is eating hamburger helper when we're first married and saying I'm a good cook.
Love is kissing me goodnight and telling me you love me.
Love is supporting me in everything I do, even if I fail.
Love is telling me you think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world even though I know I'm not.
Love is accepting my penchant for picking up stray pets.
Love is not being too mad after I almost drove us off a mountain.
Love is mowing the lawn after a long day at work.
Love is cleaning up the kitchen and mopping so I don't have to.
Love is teasing me out of a bad mood.
Love is stopping the car in a dangerous place so I can get a fabulous pic or visit an abandoned home.
Love is letting me go and do my thing and knowing I will be back soon.
Love is not getting mad at me when I had my mid 30's mid-life crisis.
Love is accepting all the old junk I bring into the house that is a treasure to me.
Love is ducking and laughing when I throw a book at you out of anger.
Love is the way you spend time with the girls.
Love is watching Criminal Minds every night because I want to, even though you've seen them 300 times.
Love is telling me I look good in a bathing suit. Now thats true love, my friend.
Love is talking to the cats even though you don't particularly like cats.
Love is so many little things in daily life that we lose sight of. Its often the tiniest thing that means the most...
I love my husband for always being there for me, for always trying to understand me, for always supporting me and taking my side when things go south. I love him for all the above mentioned things and more. I couldn't ask for a better man...
Love is holding my hair back when I puke and not gagging.
Love is seeing me all evening in my pj's with wet hair slicked back and no make-up and still thinking I'm beautiful.
Love is an exclamation of awe at the "beautiful purple" placenta I have just delivered post baby.
Love is getting up at night and feeding the baby because even though I'm not working, I'm exhausted.
Love is going to Wal-mart for something I forgot after you've had a long day at work.
Love is helping to clean up kid puke, while gagging, while I clean up pukey kids.
Love is working hard and earning a living to keep our family going.
Love is dealing with my moods and still sticking around.
Love is eating hamburger helper when we're first married and saying I'm a good cook.
Love is kissing me goodnight and telling me you love me.
Love is supporting me in everything I do, even if I fail.
Love is telling me you think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world even though I know I'm not.
Love is accepting my penchant for picking up stray pets.
Love is not being too mad after I almost drove us off a mountain.
Love is mowing the lawn after a long day at work.
Love is cleaning up the kitchen and mopping so I don't have to.
Love is teasing me out of a bad mood.
Love is stopping the car in a dangerous place so I can get a fabulous pic or visit an abandoned home.
Love is letting me go and do my thing and knowing I will be back soon.
Love is not getting mad at me when I had my mid 30's mid-life crisis.
Love is accepting all the old junk I bring into the house that is a treasure to me.
Love is ducking and laughing when I throw a book at you out of anger.
Love is the way you spend time with the girls.
Love is watching Criminal Minds every night because I want to, even though you've seen them 300 times.
Love is telling me I look good in a bathing suit. Now thats true love, my friend.
Love is talking to the cats even though you don't particularly like cats.
Love is so many little things in daily life that we lose sight of. Its often the tiniest thing that means the most...
I love my husband for always being there for me, for always trying to understand me, for always supporting me and taking my side when things go south. I love him for all the above mentioned things and more. I couldn't ask for a better man...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
the transitioning to death virgin
Ok- so these posts may be getting a bit dreary at times...I try to mix it up...but it is what it is. And what it is today is sad.
I have lost many relatives over the years...some fairly quickly, some to prolonged lengthy illness. I have also lost friends and aquaintences to tragic accidents over the years. Its always hard to lose someone you know. It leaves so many questions, so much you want to say, much you feel like you should have had left to do with them. Its hard. Even if you KNOW they are going to 'a better place', its still hard because there is a hole there. A gaping hole where that presence once was.
Today I have learned a new reality. I learned in hospice training that a person transitions into death. There are stages that the body goes through that signals that the time is near. They are pretty clear signals- mostly regarding breathing. The terminology makes it sound peaceful, and the job of hospice is to make it as comfortable and peaceful as possible. Today I learned my dear patient is transitioning. There will not be a going home for him.
I was expecting this day to come at some point with some person. I was totally prepared to suck it up and say "hey, it happens...I knew they were on limited time and its ok. Thank the Lord for Hospice". I'm not sure that my mind is really wrapping around it that easily today.
For one thing, I don't get to say goodbye. I know this is the time for the family to be together. If I did what I wanted to do I'd barge on in and lean over him and tell him how he touched my life in such a short time. But, that is not appropriate behavior, and they would look at me like a madwoman, I"m sure.
I also only get updates from my volunteer coordinator, I cannot call the nurse's station to find out how he is doing. Thats hard. I mean, I was in his home, we sat companionably and talked for hours, heck, he even offered me a beverage... :) ANd being the polite child my mother raised, I refused but thanked him.
Today I am sad for the loss of the man who lived such a full life...granted he is not gone yet and by some miracle of God he could regain consciousness and be sitting in his recliner waiting for my visit on Saturday, but I doubt it.
And so I am a "transitioning to death" virgin...I have not been here before, although I will be here again. They say the first time is the hardest. Well, thats where I am right now.
For a few minutes I pondered if I want to keep on doing this hospice thing- I mean, this is going to be the end result time and time again...but someone has to do it...and I WANT to. I am learning that there are some pretty amazing people out there who deserve to have someone pay attention to them in their final days- and I consider it a privilage and an honor to be that person.
I will always remember this man...his stories, his love of music, his amazing memory, his hospitality, his love of life and his love of laughter. And I will hate waiting to hear what happens...but as I've said, he's touched my life in such a short amount of time. He is truely a gem and I am better for knowing him.
I have lost many relatives over the years...some fairly quickly, some to prolonged lengthy illness. I have also lost friends and aquaintences to tragic accidents over the years. Its always hard to lose someone you know. It leaves so many questions, so much you want to say, much you feel like you should have had left to do with them. Its hard. Even if you KNOW they are going to 'a better place', its still hard because there is a hole there. A gaping hole where that presence once was.
Today I have learned a new reality. I learned in hospice training that a person transitions into death. There are stages that the body goes through that signals that the time is near. They are pretty clear signals- mostly regarding breathing. The terminology makes it sound peaceful, and the job of hospice is to make it as comfortable and peaceful as possible. Today I learned my dear patient is transitioning. There will not be a going home for him.
I was expecting this day to come at some point with some person. I was totally prepared to suck it up and say "hey, it happens...I knew they were on limited time and its ok. Thank the Lord for Hospice". I'm not sure that my mind is really wrapping around it that easily today.
For one thing, I don't get to say goodbye. I know this is the time for the family to be together. If I did what I wanted to do I'd barge on in and lean over him and tell him how he touched my life in such a short time. But, that is not appropriate behavior, and they would look at me like a madwoman, I"m sure.
I also only get updates from my volunteer coordinator, I cannot call the nurse's station to find out how he is doing. Thats hard. I mean, I was in his home, we sat companionably and talked for hours, heck, he even offered me a beverage... :) ANd being the polite child my mother raised, I refused but thanked him.
Today I am sad for the loss of the man who lived such a full life...granted he is not gone yet and by some miracle of God he could regain consciousness and be sitting in his recliner waiting for my visit on Saturday, but I doubt it.
And so I am a "transitioning to death" virgin...I have not been here before, although I will be here again. They say the first time is the hardest. Well, thats where I am right now.
For a few minutes I pondered if I want to keep on doing this hospice thing- I mean, this is going to be the end result time and time again...but someone has to do it...and I WANT to. I am learning that there are some pretty amazing people out there who deserve to have someone pay attention to them in their final days- and I consider it a privilage and an honor to be that person.
I will always remember this man...his stories, his love of music, his amazing memory, his hospitality, his love of life and his love of laughter. And I will hate waiting to hear what happens...but as I've said, he's touched my life in such a short amount of time. He is truely a gem and I am better for knowing him.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
reflection
Today I learned a hard lesson. Well, kinda hard, but still hopeful. My dear amusing hospice man has been put in the KBR house. His health was failing this morning. Now that doesn't mean he is going to die; it may just mean he needed a little extra care and will get to go back home. Apparently thats the way it is with hospice.
When i first started the volunteer work, it was real enough to me what I was going to experience, but it still was sort of a vague concept. You go visit someone who is sick and spend time with them. Hold their hand, read to them, talk to them. All easy enough. Of course there's the kicker that there is a 6 month or less frame of time you will have, but you put that in the back of your mind and just love on them.
This man has been so amazing to talk to- I don't even have to open my mouth, which for anyone who knows me is nothing short of a miracle in itself. At any rate, he has the best stories and the most history at 97 years of age...what a wealth of knowledge. He has LIVED his life and it is awe inspiring. I look forward to Saturdays with him and I've only known him a few weeks. I went to KBR to visit today- knowing full well he would be sleeping, I had planned an extra visit anyway so I thought I'd stop by and at least talk to the family and just see for myself how he was doing. And he was sleeping peacefully which was a blessing.
Now, when I talked with my volunteer coordinator earlier in the day and she gave me the heads up on what was going on, I was upset. Seriously, I'm not ready yet. He has to be ok. My next thought was, "can't you give me a fabulous old person who has lifetimes left to live" but that was a stupid thought- this is hospice...they are not going to make it at some point. And the vague concept became a crashing reality. My dear old man is going to die at some point. I can't stop it. I can't even pray that he'll get well and live forever- he's 97 for crying out loud.
And that gave me pause for thought...just what is it all about anyway? Hospice is a wonderful organization that is about life- not death. It is about making the most of the time one has left- not just making them comfortable, but enriching their lives as much as possible. That is why my position exists- to help make their time pass pleasantly and with the security of having someone there.
But it goes deeper for me than that, this thought train. I look around my home at my posessions- and I ask myself what is the point. Oh I love stuff, don't get me wrong. But the one who "dies with the most toys" doesn't win... they still die and none of what they've accumulated goes with them. Sure it makes life much more enjoyable, but its not about the stuff.
I've been blessed with a number of marvelous friends over the years...some of the relationships have faded into memories and some have withstood the test of time- and those are the ones I cherish. Relationships and loving other people is part of the big picture. God created us to be social beings- and we need each other.
But more than that, there is an eternity waiting for all of us out there...and the question is how will it be spent? I look forward to the day- though hopefully many years down the road- when I get to stand before God and Jesus and be told I am their child and they welcome me to Heaven. I know I need to spend more time with Them, not only praying but in the Word. That, to me, is what it is all about. Not the stuff, not looks or any physical thing that will fade away...but the joyous reunion there will be one day when I meet my heavenly Father.
And so its been a day of reflection for me. I still hate and am going to have to get used to the reality of the hospice thing...I would love it if my patient would live to a ripe old age of 140 and be able to spend many many years with me, but I know thats not reasonable, nor would he want that. Although it is me we're talking about- who wouldn't want 40+ more years with me? But I digress...today I will go on with my life, hug my kids a little tighter and appreciate my husband a little more. I will be thankful for the time i've been given with my new friend and I will pray for his comfort. And then I will probably get caught back up in the rat race that is life until I get knocked in the head again with life's hard facts. That is reality...and I'm ok with that. I wonder if they have dogs in heaven.
When i first started the volunteer work, it was real enough to me what I was going to experience, but it still was sort of a vague concept. You go visit someone who is sick and spend time with them. Hold their hand, read to them, talk to them. All easy enough. Of course there's the kicker that there is a 6 month or less frame of time you will have, but you put that in the back of your mind and just love on them.
This man has been so amazing to talk to- I don't even have to open my mouth, which for anyone who knows me is nothing short of a miracle in itself. At any rate, he has the best stories and the most history at 97 years of age...what a wealth of knowledge. He has LIVED his life and it is awe inspiring. I look forward to Saturdays with him and I've only known him a few weeks. I went to KBR to visit today- knowing full well he would be sleeping, I had planned an extra visit anyway so I thought I'd stop by and at least talk to the family and just see for myself how he was doing. And he was sleeping peacefully which was a blessing.
Now, when I talked with my volunteer coordinator earlier in the day and she gave me the heads up on what was going on, I was upset. Seriously, I'm not ready yet. He has to be ok. My next thought was, "can't you give me a fabulous old person who has lifetimes left to live" but that was a stupid thought- this is hospice...they are not going to make it at some point. And the vague concept became a crashing reality. My dear old man is going to die at some point. I can't stop it. I can't even pray that he'll get well and live forever- he's 97 for crying out loud.
And that gave me pause for thought...just what is it all about anyway? Hospice is a wonderful organization that is about life- not death. It is about making the most of the time one has left- not just making them comfortable, but enriching their lives as much as possible. That is why my position exists- to help make their time pass pleasantly and with the security of having someone there.
But it goes deeper for me than that, this thought train. I look around my home at my posessions- and I ask myself what is the point. Oh I love stuff, don't get me wrong. But the one who "dies with the most toys" doesn't win... they still die and none of what they've accumulated goes with them. Sure it makes life much more enjoyable, but its not about the stuff.
I've been blessed with a number of marvelous friends over the years...some of the relationships have faded into memories and some have withstood the test of time- and those are the ones I cherish. Relationships and loving other people is part of the big picture. God created us to be social beings- and we need each other.
But more than that, there is an eternity waiting for all of us out there...and the question is how will it be spent? I look forward to the day- though hopefully many years down the road- when I get to stand before God and Jesus and be told I am their child and they welcome me to Heaven. I know I need to spend more time with Them, not only praying but in the Word. That, to me, is what it is all about. Not the stuff, not looks or any physical thing that will fade away...but the joyous reunion there will be one day when I meet my heavenly Father.
And so its been a day of reflection for me. I still hate and am going to have to get used to the reality of the hospice thing...I would love it if my patient would live to a ripe old age of 140 and be able to spend many many years with me, but I know thats not reasonable, nor would he want that. Although it is me we're talking about- who wouldn't want 40+ more years with me? But I digress...today I will go on with my life, hug my kids a little tighter and appreciate my husband a little more. I will be thankful for the time i've been given with my new friend and I will pray for his comfort. And then I will probably get caught back up in the rat race that is life until I get knocked in the head again with life's hard facts. That is reality...and I'm ok with that. I wonder if they have dogs in heaven.
Monday, February 6, 2012
games people play
I love word games...crossword puzzles...correcting others English- anything challenging having to do with the English language is fun for me.
I also adore Stacy. She is a co-worker and FRIEND who keeps me on my toes and is always up to some sort of shennanigans!
This can be a deadly combination- but also an incredibly hilarious combination that will one day get us in trouble.
(and if I make any grammatical errors or spelling errors, I blame it solely on the computer, not user error!)
Stacy has a game she likes to play and has pulled me into its evil clutches. I don't think anyone we play with will ever read my blog so I feel secure posting it here- and I would like to invite you to play. It doesn't cost anything and its a great way to break up a boring meeting at any time.
Ok here goes- One day Stace and I are sitting getting ready for a vendor meeting and she says "act of congress and I like to do splits". Ok, the challenge is on. I have to find some way to fit those phrases into conversation with the vendor, very smoothly, in order to win points. Of course I cannot arouse suspicion or giggle when I do it.
The congressional act is easy- the vendor was talking about his recent heart surgery and how difficult it was to get the nurses to tell him anything regarding what was going on. Thus, "its like it took an act of congress, right???" was my response. BOOM- got one. The next was a bit harder as he was a handbag vendor and what in the world that had to do with splits was beyond me. I cannot remember how I did it but I did it and BOOM- another point. There was a third one, because apparently its done in threes but I cannot remember that one right now. (Now let me interject here that I cannot pass up a challenge. We were meeting with another vendor another day and she has become a friend- so we were explaining the game to her and we brought up the split thing. Stacy said to me, "I bet you can't even do a split". Well, what do you think??? I got up, hitched up my britches and did a split in the middle of the common area in which we were meeting. Needless to say I got applause from some people sitting on the couches across from us. I hadn't even noticed them there. Thanks Stacy. Yes, I would jump off a bridge and all that...)
Today we met with someone elsex someone important, and it was fairly simple- "massage, pedicure and haircut" she said. I managed to get all three in fairly quickly, altho unbeknownst to me my boss was also playing and he threw them out quite unceremoniously and not nearly as gracefully as I. He said, "WE could have a spa day with pedicures and massages and give haircuts". He got points for trying but you CANNOT throw the terms out that easily, nor can you do it in the same sentence. And then Stacy dropped the bomb...a FOURTH- yes, FOURTH word...no fair stacy- we were done with the game. But this one was particularly challenging as it was "plumber". Seriously??? Plumber??? WE are in a budget meeting and I have to figure out how to throw plumber into it??? We're a hospital gift shop...not a plumbing supply company. How in the Sam Hill am I supposed to do that? Time ticked away. I got several openings but started to giggle and just couldn't do it. Finally, I said "We need to find our target audience in order to plan the next event. For example, if it were plumbers, we would have to find the right pipe wrench in order for them to purchase". BOOM!!! Got it and without a giggle, and with a totally straight face. I could feel Stacy's shoulders shaking a bit as she was starting to giggle...but we made it through without a hitch.
Its not a disrespectful game if played correctly. We are not mocking anyone...just trying to throw in phrases or words. And it is quite the test of mental agility. And makes for hours of laughter after! Now she's telling me she has another game that involves Bingo- oh my- save me from Stacy!!! But ya'll have fun with this- I know I have. And if you have a fun one to share, please do...like I said, I am always up for a challenge!!!
I also adore Stacy. She is a co-worker and FRIEND who keeps me on my toes and is always up to some sort of shennanigans!
This can be a deadly combination- but also an incredibly hilarious combination that will one day get us in trouble.
(and if I make any grammatical errors or spelling errors, I blame it solely on the computer, not user error!)
Stacy has a game she likes to play and has pulled me into its evil clutches. I don't think anyone we play with will ever read my blog so I feel secure posting it here- and I would like to invite you to play. It doesn't cost anything and its a great way to break up a boring meeting at any time.
Ok here goes- One day Stace and I are sitting getting ready for a vendor meeting and she says "act of congress and I like to do splits". Ok, the challenge is on. I have to find some way to fit those phrases into conversation with the vendor, very smoothly, in order to win points. Of course I cannot arouse suspicion or giggle when I do it.
The congressional act is easy- the vendor was talking about his recent heart surgery and how difficult it was to get the nurses to tell him anything regarding what was going on. Thus, "its like it took an act of congress, right???" was my response. BOOM- got one. The next was a bit harder as he was a handbag vendor and what in the world that had to do with splits was beyond me. I cannot remember how I did it but I did it and BOOM- another point. There was a third one, because apparently its done in threes but I cannot remember that one right now. (Now let me interject here that I cannot pass up a challenge. We were meeting with another vendor another day and she has become a friend- so we were explaining the game to her and we brought up the split thing. Stacy said to me, "I bet you can't even do a split". Well, what do you think??? I got up, hitched up my britches and did a split in the middle of the common area in which we were meeting. Needless to say I got applause from some people sitting on the couches across from us. I hadn't even noticed them there. Thanks Stacy. Yes, I would jump off a bridge and all that...)
Today we met with someone elsex someone important, and it was fairly simple- "massage, pedicure and haircut" she said. I managed to get all three in fairly quickly, altho unbeknownst to me my boss was also playing and he threw them out quite unceremoniously and not nearly as gracefully as I. He said, "WE could have a spa day with pedicures and massages and give haircuts". He got points for trying but you CANNOT throw the terms out that easily, nor can you do it in the same sentence. And then Stacy dropped the bomb...a FOURTH- yes, FOURTH word...no fair stacy- we were done with the game. But this one was particularly challenging as it was "plumber". Seriously??? Plumber??? WE are in a budget meeting and I have to figure out how to throw plumber into it??? We're a hospital gift shop...not a plumbing supply company. How in the Sam Hill am I supposed to do that? Time ticked away. I got several openings but started to giggle and just couldn't do it. Finally, I said "We need to find our target audience in order to plan the next event. For example, if it were plumbers, we would have to find the right pipe wrench in order for them to purchase". BOOM!!! Got it and without a giggle, and with a totally straight face. I could feel Stacy's shoulders shaking a bit as she was starting to giggle...but we made it through without a hitch.
Its not a disrespectful game if played correctly. We are not mocking anyone...just trying to throw in phrases or words. And it is quite the test of mental agility. And makes for hours of laughter after! Now she's telling me she has another game that involves Bingo- oh my- save me from Stacy!!! But ya'll have fun with this- I know I have. And if you have a fun one to share, please do...like I said, I am always up for a challenge!!!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
braking on the blue ridge
Life is an adventure! Some people chalk things up to luck...some people knock on wood...I have learned over time that God has his hand in it all. Even when I screw up- which is certainly NOT often. Yeah, right!
Was reminiscing about a little trip Kerry and I took to the mountains on a foggy dreary cool day much like today. We were newly married and it being a Saturday, didn't have to work so I got the brilliant idea to go to the mountains. What in the world we would do there on a day you couldn't see your hand in front of your face is beyond me now, but it seemed like fun at the time. So, we set out. Now, being an independant female who must always be in control, I decided I would drive. Kerry is generally a good car rider who uses the passenger side brake infrequently, but he doesn't like to ride. For some reason, I make him nervous. Tee-hee!
We went up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, which is generally a beautiful drive- but on that day it might as well have been Silas Creek Parkway for all the beauty that could be seen- which was none. Nevertheless, we continued on our trek. The roads got quite curvy and I think my speed was making my new husband a tad nervous. His bad for teaching me to drive stick! He told me to slow down. I told him I had it under control. He requested that I slow down. I told him I had it under control. He demanded that I slow down and I informed him that if he said it again, I would pull over and he could drive if he thought he could do better. Of course that seemed like a stupid threat as it would get him exactly what he wanted in the first place but little did we know...
Again my dear husband told me to slow down, and so I made good on my promise. I pulled over- but not only did I pull over, I braked hard, on wet grass, on the side of a mountain in heavy fog and the car went sliding straight toward the edge. Fortunately the rain had been going on for several days so my tire sank in the dirt and built up a huge mound of mud around the tire. Apparently the only thing holding the car on the side of the mountain. When Kerry opened his door, it was to a steep drop- with no where to plant his size 10's. Oooooh, I knew I was in for it now. Not only did I almost kill my husband, but he was mad. He never gets mad- and when it actually does occur, it is a frightening phenomenon. It is like the lull before the storm. It is a very calm quiet with a look that turns me into a pathetic puddle.
I apologized profusely and even squeezed out a genuine tear or two- and my heart was in my throat--- that really was a scary moment- I mean, we were on the edge of a dropoff that would have meant sure death had we gone over. I looked at him and he looked at me and then the thought hit us- it was off season so a ranger probably wouldn't be along soon. It was off season so there probably would be little traffic. It was off season and we were probably stuck for a while, in the mist which, by the way, was wreaking havoc on my finely coiffed do.
Now this is when the super awesome God part comes in. (Of course the mud mound was a God thing too but - wait for it...). Along came a sweet old man in a caddy who stopped. He said, I have a rope, but I don't think my car will pull you out. WE debated for a second on what to do when a big pick-up with a good ole boy came along and said "I have my truck but no chain to pull you out". And a big grin broke out on my face. What were the odds??? A car with a rope, a truck with no rope- but together they could pull us out of this kristen made predicament... Thank you God! And after profuse thanks and some small talk we were on out way again...with Kerry at the wheel and me, a tad less cocky in the passenger seat. The rest of the day was uneventful. WE stopped at Little Switzerland and shopped a bit and went on home where all was safe and no one told anyone how to drive.
Its a really funny memory now- and a lesson in 1- how God manages to work all things for good in spite of us and 2- how I need to learn to calm my anger and 3- that its a really bad idea to brake on wet grass. See- three lessons learned in one day...I would love to say I don't have more stories like this, but I am a knee-jerk reaction kinda gal so of course there are more...and maybe next time you'll hear one.
Was reminiscing about a little trip Kerry and I took to the mountains on a foggy dreary cool day much like today. We were newly married and it being a Saturday, didn't have to work so I got the brilliant idea to go to the mountains. What in the world we would do there on a day you couldn't see your hand in front of your face is beyond me now, but it seemed like fun at the time. So, we set out. Now, being an independant female who must always be in control, I decided I would drive. Kerry is generally a good car rider who uses the passenger side brake infrequently, but he doesn't like to ride. For some reason, I make him nervous. Tee-hee!
We went up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, which is generally a beautiful drive- but on that day it might as well have been Silas Creek Parkway for all the beauty that could be seen- which was none. Nevertheless, we continued on our trek. The roads got quite curvy and I think my speed was making my new husband a tad nervous. His bad for teaching me to drive stick! He told me to slow down. I told him I had it under control. He requested that I slow down. I told him I had it under control. He demanded that I slow down and I informed him that if he said it again, I would pull over and he could drive if he thought he could do better. Of course that seemed like a stupid threat as it would get him exactly what he wanted in the first place but little did we know...
Again my dear husband told me to slow down, and so I made good on my promise. I pulled over- but not only did I pull over, I braked hard, on wet grass, on the side of a mountain in heavy fog and the car went sliding straight toward the edge. Fortunately the rain had been going on for several days so my tire sank in the dirt and built up a huge mound of mud around the tire. Apparently the only thing holding the car on the side of the mountain. When Kerry opened his door, it was to a steep drop- with no where to plant his size 10's. Oooooh, I knew I was in for it now. Not only did I almost kill my husband, but he was mad. He never gets mad- and when it actually does occur, it is a frightening phenomenon. It is like the lull before the storm. It is a very calm quiet with a look that turns me into a pathetic puddle.
I apologized profusely and even squeezed out a genuine tear or two- and my heart was in my throat--- that really was a scary moment- I mean, we were on the edge of a dropoff that would have meant sure death had we gone over. I looked at him and he looked at me and then the thought hit us- it was off season so a ranger probably wouldn't be along soon. It was off season so there probably would be little traffic. It was off season and we were probably stuck for a while, in the mist which, by the way, was wreaking havoc on my finely coiffed do.
Now this is when the super awesome God part comes in. (Of course the mud mound was a God thing too but - wait for it...). Along came a sweet old man in a caddy who stopped. He said, I have a rope, but I don't think my car will pull you out. WE debated for a second on what to do when a big pick-up with a good ole boy came along and said "I have my truck but no chain to pull you out". And a big grin broke out on my face. What were the odds??? A car with a rope, a truck with no rope- but together they could pull us out of this kristen made predicament... Thank you God! And after profuse thanks and some small talk we were on out way again...with Kerry at the wheel and me, a tad less cocky in the passenger seat. The rest of the day was uneventful. WE stopped at Little Switzerland and shopped a bit and went on home where all was safe and no one told anyone how to drive.
Its a really funny memory now- and a lesson in 1- how God manages to work all things for good in spite of us and 2- how I need to learn to calm my anger and 3- that its a really bad idea to brake on wet grass. See- three lessons learned in one day...I would love to say I don't have more stories like this, but I am a knee-jerk reaction kinda gal so of course there are more...and maybe next time you'll hear one.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
depression...its whats for breakfast
I know I wrote a bit about this before, but its a topic that deserves to stand alone...and I wish it would stand alone - somewhere else. However, this is not to be, and thus, it is what it is.
Depression is an evil taskmaster. It overcomes your life and lives in your skin and dominates your entire being. It is a living breathing entity scarier than any evil ole Mr King could ever write about. Medicine works, but not always, and this is where I am.
I wake up several times during the night...maybe I get up, maybe I just lie there waiting for sleep to grab me in its clutches again. I worry about anything and everything. My foot jiggles with nervous energy and my mind is in turmoil. Sometime around 4 or so I am awake for good...lying there with a dark feeling of foreboding...like something dreadful is about to happen even though I know it isn't. I dread getting up, but I dread lying there, so I wait it out until 5 and then the alarm goes off. In some ways this is a sweet relief, in others, I would love to stay in bed for the rest of the day. However, I have a job and must get up.
I get up and as I turn on the lights, the fearfulness subsides and the brightness helps chase away the goblins that have taken up residence in my mind. I get ready for work and then I wait to leave. I sit there and run through every scenario that would allow me to stay home. I have too strong a work ethic to call in so this is a meaningless task, but still, I do it. The time comes to leave and again, the feeling of dread is upon me. Its not that I don't like my job, its not that I don't adore my co-workers...its just that i have to go and I don't want to leave the safety of my home. But I do. And again I'm plunged into the darkness of early morning...which does nothing to help my frame of mind.
I get to work and plaster a smile on my face...I go about my tasks and hang out with my buddies and the busier I am, the better I feel. Of course everything I do feels like swimming through thick mud...its almost impossible but I push myself to do my job. There are small rewards throughout the day...time spent with our precious volunteers, laughs with Randy and STacy and others, small victories yet they keep me going. Time passes and finally its 4pm. Time to go. I am relieved to be leaving but as soon as I start my car I realize I don't really want to go home either.
At home are all the reminders of my depression. The inability to do even the most simple tasks...to vacuum or dust or do the dishes or change the cat box or answer the phone just seems like I am trying to conquer Everest with no legs...seemingly impossible. I get home and do a little here and a little there...taking a shower is no mean feat...and I get my clothes together for the next day and then sit and dread the next day.
My mind is not filled with thoughts of suicide...or self harm. I am not at that point yet. I am, however, at the point where life just seems so overwhelming and I have no direction. I look at people who live life with pure childlike joy and embrace all it has to offer and I am envious that I can't even seem to do a load of laundry. I feel distant from God- which scares me even more and makes me sink deeper into the mire. I worry, even though I know it does no good. I think ahead to the future, when my children are gone and think how quickly time has passed me by. I ruminate over all my failures- as a wife, as a mother, as an employee, as a person in general and I dislike myself and who I have become.
Yes, I have meds and I am taking them...although I let one lapse for a few days and i think that is why I am in this current state. With all the meds working I am ok...even enjoying life...however, at this moment, that is not the case. So I sit and write, hoping that putting my thoughts down will allow my mind some ease...if its written down, then I don't have to keep going over it all in my mind...I can come back to my thoughts here later on. And I will pray.
I hope that anyone who has ever had to deal with depression finds relief in therapy or medicine. SOme people think that its a just mind over matter and it can be overcome with positive thoughts. Those people are entitled to their beliefs but I have to say thats not the way it works in KRisten's world. I am thankful for this disorder - it has made me very sensative to others and their needs...it has made me a better person in some ways as I can empathize with the best of 'em. And I am thankful that it is what it is...something treatable most of the time.
I will not, however, let it identify who I am. I am not depression...I will not wear it proudly on a t-shirt...I am a wife and mother and friend and child of the living God...who just happens to have a flaw. Tomorrow will be a better day- and the next and the next until my mindframe is back to where it should be. And I will then be able to live my life with childlike wonder and excitement over the little things until the monster rears its head again. At which point I will relive today and again, soldier on until I get to the good place. Today, depression is what's for breakfast...
Depression is an evil taskmaster. It overcomes your life and lives in your skin and dominates your entire being. It is a living breathing entity scarier than any evil ole Mr King could ever write about. Medicine works, but not always, and this is where I am.
I wake up several times during the night...maybe I get up, maybe I just lie there waiting for sleep to grab me in its clutches again. I worry about anything and everything. My foot jiggles with nervous energy and my mind is in turmoil. Sometime around 4 or so I am awake for good...lying there with a dark feeling of foreboding...like something dreadful is about to happen even though I know it isn't. I dread getting up, but I dread lying there, so I wait it out until 5 and then the alarm goes off. In some ways this is a sweet relief, in others, I would love to stay in bed for the rest of the day. However, I have a job and must get up.
I get up and as I turn on the lights, the fearfulness subsides and the brightness helps chase away the goblins that have taken up residence in my mind. I get ready for work and then I wait to leave. I sit there and run through every scenario that would allow me to stay home. I have too strong a work ethic to call in so this is a meaningless task, but still, I do it. The time comes to leave and again, the feeling of dread is upon me. Its not that I don't like my job, its not that I don't adore my co-workers...its just that i have to go and I don't want to leave the safety of my home. But I do. And again I'm plunged into the darkness of early morning...which does nothing to help my frame of mind.
I get to work and plaster a smile on my face...I go about my tasks and hang out with my buddies and the busier I am, the better I feel. Of course everything I do feels like swimming through thick mud...its almost impossible but I push myself to do my job. There are small rewards throughout the day...time spent with our precious volunteers, laughs with Randy and STacy and others, small victories yet they keep me going. Time passes and finally its 4pm. Time to go. I am relieved to be leaving but as soon as I start my car I realize I don't really want to go home either.
At home are all the reminders of my depression. The inability to do even the most simple tasks...to vacuum or dust or do the dishes or change the cat box or answer the phone just seems like I am trying to conquer Everest with no legs...seemingly impossible. I get home and do a little here and a little there...taking a shower is no mean feat...and I get my clothes together for the next day and then sit and dread the next day.
My mind is not filled with thoughts of suicide...or self harm. I am not at that point yet. I am, however, at the point where life just seems so overwhelming and I have no direction. I look at people who live life with pure childlike joy and embrace all it has to offer and I am envious that I can't even seem to do a load of laundry. I feel distant from God- which scares me even more and makes me sink deeper into the mire. I worry, even though I know it does no good. I think ahead to the future, when my children are gone and think how quickly time has passed me by. I ruminate over all my failures- as a wife, as a mother, as an employee, as a person in general and I dislike myself and who I have become.
Yes, I have meds and I am taking them...although I let one lapse for a few days and i think that is why I am in this current state. With all the meds working I am ok...even enjoying life...however, at this moment, that is not the case. So I sit and write, hoping that putting my thoughts down will allow my mind some ease...if its written down, then I don't have to keep going over it all in my mind...I can come back to my thoughts here later on. And I will pray.
I hope that anyone who has ever had to deal with depression finds relief in therapy or medicine. SOme people think that its a just mind over matter and it can be overcome with positive thoughts. Those people are entitled to their beliefs but I have to say thats not the way it works in KRisten's world. I am thankful for this disorder - it has made me very sensative to others and their needs...it has made me a better person in some ways as I can empathize with the best of 'em. And I am thankful that it is what it is...something treatable most of the time.
I will not, however, let it identify who I am. I am not depression...I will not wear it proudly on a t-shirt...I am a wife and mother and friend and child of the living God...who just happens to have a flaw. Tomorrow will be a better day- and the next and the next until my mindframe is back to where it should be. And I will then be able to live my life with childlike wonder and excitement over the little things until the monster rears its head again. At which point I will relive today and again, soldier on until I get to the good place. Today, depression is what's for breakfast...
Saturday, January 21, 2012
my hospice visit
Nursing homes are one of the saddest places I've ever visited, but one of the most rewarding.
When I was young, my grandparents were in a nursing home and I remember visiting...the elderly lined up in their wheelchairs, some of them reaching out to us making gutteral noises that were quite scary. i remember the smells and the age of the people and I really hoped I would never have to go to another one again.
WEll, today I was there. Well, not there, but here in kernersville at a nursing home visiting my hospice patient. I walked in the front door and the residents were all sitting at tables ready for lunch. I looked around and for a second flashed back to my younger days and had a slight shudder. But then I threw back my shoulders and put on my big girl panties and decided to go ahead and get on with it.
I met my charge, and she was a wonderful precious person. She regretted that they couldn't feed me but I quickly assured her that the chicken and creamed corn looked delicious but I couldn't possibly eat anything. WE spent some time getting to know each other- along with her two roommates who really were a hoot! After lunch we went back to their room and she got in bed and asked me to stay a little longer. I'll admit conversation lagged at points- its difficult to spend 1 1/2 hours with someone you've never met before, who is dying and tired, without some silences. But it really was a great visit. I am so glad I was able to go.
Reflecting on the way home, I was saddened by all the poor souls in that dining room. There were so many little hunched over people with thinning hair and lessining abilities. I pondered how these were once young vibrant people with their lives ahead of them. Young brides, young mothers, young men with a gleam in their eye, people working to make it somewhere with nothing but possibilities ahead of them. How very sad to end life in this condition. But it warmed my heart to see how they took care of each other. How they would touch a hand or help with a bite of food. They are not something to fear, but dear people who need to be loved on.
One thing I love about hospice is they don't let people end it alone. They have volunteers who visit and make the people who are at the end of their life feel special and loved. I hope I helped do that today. Family cannot be there all the time. Its nice to have visitors when the family isn't around, so says Marie.
I had a great day today. I cannot wait to go back and spend more time getting to know her. And then the thought hit, she won't be around forever and that made me a little sad. I already have affection for her...what will I do when...but I pushed the thought aside. I will make the most of the time we have, learn what she has to teach me and love on her like there's no tomorrow. Cuz you just never know.
When I was young, my grandparents were in a nursing home and I remember visiting...the elderly lined up in their wheelchairs, some of them reaching out to us making gutteral noises that were quite scary. i remember the smells and the age of the people and I really hoped I would never have to go to another one again.
WEll, today I was there. Well, not there, but here in kernersville at a nursing home visiting my hospice patient. I walked in the front door and the residents were all sitting at tables ready for lunch. I looked around and for a second flashed back to my younger days and had a slight shudder. But then I threw back my shoulders and put on my big girl panties and decided to go ahead and get on with it.
I met my charge, and she was a wonderful precious person. She regretted that they couldn't feed me but I quickly assured her that the chicken and creamed corn looked delicious but I couldn't possibly eat anything. WE spent some time getting to know each other- along with her two roommates who really were a hoot! After lunch we went back to their room and she got in bed and asked me to stay a little longer. I'll admit conversation lagged at points- its difficult to spend 1 1/2 hours with someone you've never met before, who is dying and tired, without some silences. But it really was a great visit. I am so glad I was able to go.
Reflecting on the way home, I was saddened by all the poor souls in that dining room. There were so many little hunched over people with thinning hair and lessining abilities. I pondered how these were once young vibrant people with their lives ahead of them. Young brides, young mothers, young men with a gleam in their eye, people working to make it somewhere with nothing but possibilities ahead of them. How very sad to end life in this condition. But it warmed my heart to see how they took care of each other. How they would touch a hand or help with a bite of food. They are not something to fear, but dear people who need to be loved on.
One thing I love about hospice is they don't let people end it alone. They have volunteers who visit and make the people who are at the end of their life feel special and loved. I hope I helped do that today. Family cannot be there all the time. Its nice to have visitors when the family isn't around, so says Marie.
I had a great day today. I cannot wait to go back and spend more time getting to know her. And then the thought hit, she won't be around forever and that made me a little sad. I already have affection for her...what will I do when...but I pushed the thought aside. I will make the most of the time we have, learn what she has to teach me and love on her like there's no tomorrow. Cuz you just never know.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
on aging
Speaking of the perils of aging, my mother told me the other day not to grow old. Now I don't thing she has a death wish for me, but I understand where she is coming from. The aches, the pains, the weight that doesn't fall off like it did in my twenties...disease and just the breakdown of the body...it can't possibly be all fun and games.
However, there are definate benefits to aging. I loved the Kathy Bates line in Fried Green Tomatoes "I'm older and I have more insurance" after she rams the car of the snotty young girl. Its true...age has its benefits!
I work with volunteers at Forsyth Medical Center and the ages range from 40's to late 90's...and its amazing to see what some of these elderly folks have achieved in their lives and how they just keep on truckin'. We have a 94 year old volunteer who doesn't miss a Friday and always wants to know what we have for her to do. And don't accidently say she's 93- she will quickly point out that extra year!!! She has slowed down a bit in the 3 years I've known her and she doesn't always feel well but she's still out there doin it. I want to be that lady!
The things time teaches are wonderful lessons. At 42,(oops, I'm only 41...geez, this is the bad part of aging...can't remember anything!) I am no longer the teen with bachne (the pimply back) or chimples (pimples on the chin) who is insecure about the way she looks and her personality...or whether she is even worthy of being. The things that were important then are no longer important now. If I could go back and have a do-over knowing what I know now I would be in such a different place.
I wouldn't have dated the people I dated- although I did end up with a wonderful husband so I guess I would have dated him. But the others, oy vey! What was I thinking except they showed interest and my ego needed that. THese days my ego stems from a different source. I have learned that I am God's child- and that in and of itself makes me worthy. I have learned that I can be still and quiet and not always have to have something to say to make people like me. I have learned that for the most part I can say what I think without the world coming to an end and it makes a difference...why put up with something that can be changed with simple conversation.
I would have made different friends- the good life long friends- not the fun party friends that come and go and leave no real lasting impression. I have several really close friends now and I am so very grateful for their friendship. I am learning how precious those relationships are and how i need to nurture them to keep them alive.
I would have made wise career choices instead of thinking I wasn't good enough to try for a certain position because I didn't have experience. I'm trying the new job thing now and even if I am not qualified, I apply anyway- I am trainable, and an attractive addition to any workplace.
Aging is about learning and growing...becoming something better than you were. Both of my parents have had health issues, and they have been such strong examples of grace under pressure. THey both did what I guess we all do...just motored on and made it through and made the best of what they had. I admire that. I want to grab life by the tail and make the most of every moment. Insecurity be darned!!!
I guess what I'm trying, not so gracefully, to say is that I enjoy the aging process. WIth every ache and pain I have, I know I have lived and earned that ache and pain. I don't know how long my lifespan will be- not to be morbid but we all have a designated time to go- but I hope to make the most of what i have learned with time and enjoy every day that God gives me. He is good...He wants the best for me...He has been kind enough to continue to give me life despite my mistakes. I know there is a plan. Its up to me to find that plan and live it.
I have become a hospice volunteer and haven't had much luck with it...one patient was never well enough for me to visit and the other two died...but I have a new one coming up next weekend and I can't wait to see what the knowledge of her years will teach me. God bless the aging...and I am thankful for the lessons they have to share. I can't wait.
Life is good. Is it perfect, no...but I can't wait to see what the years bring...God willing I will have many to enjoy.
However, there are definate benefits to aging. I loved the Kathy Bates line in Fried Green Tomatoes "I'm older and I have more insurance" after she rams the car of the snotty young girl. Its true...age has its benefits!
I work with volunteers at Forsyth Medical Center and the ages range from 40's to late 90's...and its amazing to see what some of these elderly folks have achieved in their lives and how they just keep on truckin'. We have a 94 year old volunteer who doesn't miss a Friday and always wants to know what we have for her to do. And don't accidently say she's 93- she will quickly point out that extra year!!! She has slowed down a bit in the 3 years I've known her and she doesn't always feel well but she's still out there doin it. I want to be that lady!
The things time teaches are wonderful lessons. At 42,(oops, I'm only 41...geez, this is the bad part of aging...can't remember anything!) I am no longer the teen with bachne (the pimply back) or chimples (pimples on the chin) who is insecure about the way she looks and her personality...or whether she is even worthy of being. The things that were important then are no longer important now. If I could go back and have a do-over knowing what I know now I would be in such a different place.
I wouldn't have dated the people I dated- although I did end up with a wonderful husband so I guess I would have dated him. But the others, oy vey! What was I thinking except they showed interest and my ego needed that. THese days my ego stems from a different source. I have learned that I am God's child- and that in and of itself makes me worthy. I have learned that I can be still and quiet and not always have to have something to say to make people like me. I have learned that for the most part I can say what I think without the world coming to an end and it makes a difference...why put up with something that can be changed with simple conversation.
I would have made different friends- the good life long friends- not the fun party friends that come and go and leave no real lasting impression. I have several really close friends now and I am so very grateful for their friendship. I am learning how precious those relationships are and how i need to nurture them to keep them alive.
I would have made wise career choices instead of thinking I wasn't good enough to try for a certain position because I didn't have experience. I'm trying the new job thing now and even if I am not qualified, I apply anyway- I am trainable, and an attractive addition to any workplace.
Aging is about learning and growing...becoming something better than you were. Both of my parents have had health issues, and they have been such strong examples of grace under pressure. THey both did what I guess we all do...just motored on and made it through and made the best of what they had. I admire that. I want to grab life by the tail and make the most of every moment. Insecurity be darned!!!
I guess what I'm trying, not so gracefully, to say is that I enjoy the aging process. WIth every ache and pain I have, I know I have lived and earned that ache and pain. I don't know how long my lifespan will be- not to be morbid but we all have a designated time to go- but I hope to make the most of what i have learned with time and enjoy every day that God gives me. He is good...He wants the best for me...He has been kind enough to continue to give me life despite my mistakes. I know there is a plan. Its up to me to find that plan and live it.
I have become a hospice volunteer and haven't had much luck with it...one patient was never well enough for me to visit and the other two died...but I have a new one coming up next weekend and I can't wait to see what the knowledge of her years will teach me. God bless the aging...and I am thankful for the lessons they have to share. I can't wait.
Life is good. Is it perfect, no...but I can't wait to see what the years bring...God willing I will have many to enjoy.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Today, somewhere
Today, somewhere, a child is going to bed hungry. His parents are trying their hardest to make ends meet at dead end jobs and are barely scraping by. There is little food in the house and what they have, they have to make stretch. He won't complain. He knows that this is the way life is.
Today, somewhere, a woman has been beaten again by her husband. She has no where to go, and children to protect from his violent hand. She tried to leave before, but he always finds her, and the next time she may end up in the morgue. Who will take care of her children? She hates her life, but thinks, from her own experience growing up, that this is the way it is.
Today, somewhere, a parent mourns her child. She knew she was on drugs and tried to intervene, to no avail. The drugs were more powerful than her daughter and the lure was just too great. For her child, this was the way life was. And for the mother, this is the way life will now be, with an empty hole which was once filled with a freckle faced little girl.
Today, somewhere, a man is depressed, wondering what his wife will say when she finds out he has lost his job of 20 years. He is adrift in the world of unemployment, his wife and children dependent on his income. How will the bills be paid? Who is he without his career? How long will it take to find another job? And how will he face them, a failure. For him, this is his new life, its just how it is.
Today, somewhere, a woman lies on the couch, mired in depression, wondering how she can go on. The devils are riding her back and a sweet release lies in the bottles of pills beside her. Only she knows what it will do to her family. So she pulls the blanket up and rolls over, trying to keep the demons at bay, wishing death would just come, putting on a brave face when the family gets home. She is on meds, they are not working. For her, right now, this is the life she leads.
Today, somewhere, a man sits in prison. He knows he is guilty. It was the first time he had driven drunk and the people in the other car were his unwilling victims. His wife and children miss him. He feels grief and guilt and loathes himself for what he has done. And he relives the moment day after day. If only he had not...if only...but this is his reality now.
Today, right here, there but for the grace of God...I am thankful for so many things. I am thankful that God put me on this planet in the time He did,to the parents He did, in the location he did. Fortunate to be an American, fortunate to have been raised by Christian parents who instilled strong values in me (although my failures are legion), fortunate to have married a kind and loving man, fortunate to have made it through unemployment without hunger or no means to pay the bills, and fortunate to have two wonderful well behaved daughters who have given me little trouble over the years. I am thankful for medication to control depression...I am thankful that alcohol is not a problem for me.
Today, right now, I am sitting on the couch in a warm house, with my sleeping dog by my side, my husband across the room and my daughters safely in their rooms. Thinking of the "what could have been"s, I am reminded that I serve a loving and forgiving God who has protected me so many times when all I could see was what I wish was. I am learning to appreciate what is, and to be content in it. Today, somewhere, it could be me. I am glad it isn't.
Today, somewhere, a woman has been beaten again by her husband. She has no where to go, and children to protect from his violent hand. She tried to leave before, but he always finds her, and the next time she may end up in the morgue. Who will take care of her children? She hates her life, but thinks, from her own experience growing up, that this is the way it is.
Today, somewhere, a parent mourns her child. She knew she was on drugs and tried to intervene, to no avail. The drugs were more powerful than her daughter and the lure was just too great. For her child, this was the way life was. And for the mother, this is the way life will now be, with an empty hole which was once filled with a freckle faced little girl.
Today, somewhere, a man is depressed, wondering what his wife will say when she finds out he has lost his job of 20 years. He is adrift in the world of unemployment, his wife and children dependent on his income. How will the bills be paid? Who is he without his career? How long will it take to find another job? And how will he face them, a failure. For him, this is his new life, its just how it is.
Today, somewhere, a woman lies on the couch, mired in depression, wondering how she can go on. The devils are riding her back and a sweet release lies in the bottles of pills beside her. Only she knows what it will do to her family. So she pulls the blanket up and rolls over, trying to keep the demons at bay, wishing death would just come, putting on a brave face when the family gets home. She is on meds, they are not working. For her, right now, this is the life she leads.
Today, somewhere, a man sits in prison. He knows he is guilty. It was the first time he had driven drunk and the people in the other car were his unwilling victims. His wife and children miss him. He feels grief and guilt and loathes himself for what he has done. And he relives the moment day after day. If only he had not...if only...but this is his reality now.
Today, right here, there but for the grace of God...I am thankful for so many things. I am thankful that God put me on this planet in the time He did,to the parents He did, in the location he did. Fortunate to be an American, fortunate to have been raised by Christian parents who instilled strong values in me (although my failures are legion), fortunate to have married a kind and loving man, fortunate to have made it through unemployment without hunger or no means to pay the bills, and fortunate to have two wonderful well behaved daughters who have given me little trouble over the years. I am thankful for medication to control depression...I am thankful that alcohol is not a problem for me.
Today, right now, I am sitting on the couch in a warm house, with my sleeping dog by my side, my husband across the room and my daughters safely in their rooms. Thinking of the "what could have been"s, I am reminded that I serve a loving and forgiving God who has protected me so many times when all I could see was what I wish was. I am learning to appreciate what is, and to be content in it. Today, somewhere, it could be me. I am glad it isn't.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
On death and dying
Today my friend lost a dear friend to cancer. I met her friend one time at a party at her house. She welcomed me so graciously even though I had never met her before, it was like we were friends. You could tell she had a beautiful heart and she was a beautiful lady. She leaves behind a husband and small children and it breaks my heart to think of their loss. Although I only knew her for a minute, she touched my life through her hospitality, her warmth and the stories of her my friend shared.
Death is such a sad thing. A trite statement, but true. I recently watched a PBS documentary online called "Undertaking" which helps to dispel some of the fear associated with the process of dying. It had interviews with a couple who had a 2 year old who was dying, and an elderly lady who didn't have much time left here. It was done by a family owned and operated funeral home and took you through the process of death from the moment of release to the moment of burial. It was very sad but very informative and something worth watching. The families interviewed were very touching, and the sensativity and respect with which the funeral home handled the whole process was comforting.
I wonder what will happen when my time comes. Not to be morbid, but lets face it, it will happen to us all unless Jesus comes first. Will I be mourned. Will I have touched any lives? Will anyone be richer for having known me? I know this leaves me wide open for many jokes but I am serious...when I think of the people who have passed through my life, I have been touched by so many beautiful lives, there are so many people that have made such an impression on me. I hope that I have done the same for others.
In hospice training we are taught what to say, and definately what NOT to say when someone dies. And yet, words are so insufficient during this time. I am so sorry that my friend lost her friend. I am so sorry that there is death in the world. I hate that so many wonderful people have to suffer when so many others hurt so many people and coast through life with the most wonderful blessings falling on them. It just doesn't seem fair.
In sunday school, one of our teachers was talking about how God is our father, and how we should feel like as a child we can crawl up in His lap and let Him wrap His arms around us and give us comfort. I hope that the family and friends of this wonderful lady can find that comfort. That God will wrap His arms around them and let them be filled with peace...that He will cover them in His love, and the love of their friends and that time will be kind and lessen the pain.
Heaven has always been a bit scary to me...the concept of eternity is one I just cannot wrap my mind around. I remember as a child thinking for forever and ever and ever and just being terrified. I remember thinking what would we do in Heaven? And in my childishness, wondering if there would be time to play or would it just be all about worshipping Jesus like we were taught. As an adult, an eternity of worshipping God and His Son and singing praises in a new body that will feel no pain or sorrow seems like a pretty good deal. I can do without playing.
I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of the process. I think its a natural fear. I had a bout with pneumonia a couple of years ago and could not take a breath to save my life. AFter a call to 911 and an ambulance ride to the hospital barely being able to take in any air, I knew what it was to fear the process. Even though I was with people who were trained to take care of me, I felt no confidence or peace...I was terrified and felt alone. It was one of the scariest times of my life, and all I could do was pray that I would make it. I did, but it sure left an impression on me that life is fragile and people cannot always save us, no matter how knowledgeable they are.
I grieve for my friend. I grieve for all of those who have lost someone dear to them, or are in the process of losing someone. I pray that God will protect them and surround them with His angels, and give them comfort and peace. Death is not fair to the living. There is always a hole where the person was...always a place at the table that is empty, a space in the bed that is no longer warmed, an empty seat in the car, or on the couch... Time does ease the pain, but I don't think it ever takes it away entirely.
May God bless those who loved my friend's friend...and may they find their way through this time with God's grace and fond memories of a life well lived.
Death is such a sad thing. A trite statement, but true. I recently watched a PBS documentary online called "Undertaking" which helps to dispel some of the fear associated with the process of dying. It had interviews with a couple who had a 2 year old who was dying, and an elderly lady who didn't have much time left here. It was done by a family owned and operated funeral home and took you through the process of death from the moment of release to the moment of burial. It was very sad but very informative and something worth watching. The families interviewed were very touching, and the sensativity and respect with which the funeral home handled the whole process was comforting.
I wonder what will happen when my time comes. Not to be morbid, but lets face it, it will happen to us all unless Jesus comes first. Will I be mourned. Will I have touched any lives? Will anyone be richer for having known me? I know this leaves me wide open for many jokes but I am serious...when I think of the people who have passed through my life, I have been touched by so many beautiful lives, there are so many people that have made such an impression on me. I hope that I have done the same for others.
In hospice training we are taught what to say, and definately what NOT to say when someone dies. And yet, words are so insufficient during this time. I am so sorry that my friend lost her friend. I am so sorry that there is death in the world. I hate that so many wonderful people have to suffer when so many others hurt so many people and coast through life with the most wonderful blessings falling on them. It just doesn't seem fair.
In sunday school, one of our teachers was talking about how God is our father, and how we should feel like as a child we can crawl up in His lap and let Him wrap His arms around us and give us comfort. I hope that the family and friends of this wonderful lady can find that comfort. That God will wrap His arms around them and let them be filled with peace...that He will cover them in His love, and the love of their friends and that time will be kind and lessen the pain.
Heaven has always been a bit scary to me...the concept of eternity is one I just cannot wrap my mind around. I remember as a child thinking for forever and ever and ever and just being terrified. I remember thinking what would we do in Heaven? And in my childishness, wondering if there would be time to play or would it just be all about worshipping Jesus like we were taught. As an adult, an eternity of worshipping God and His Son and singing praises in a new body that will feel no pain or sorrow seems like a pretty good deal. I can do without playing.
I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of the process. I think its a natural fear. I had a bout with pneumonia a couple of years ago and could not take a breath to save my life. AFter a call to 911 and an ambulance ride to the hospital barely being able to take in any air, I knew what it was to fear the process. Even though I was with people who were trained to take care of me, I felt no confidence or peace...I was terrified and felt alone. It was one of the scariest times of my life, and all I could do was pray that I would make it. I did, but it sure left an impression on me that life is fragile and people cannot always save us, no matter how knowledgeable they are.
I grieve for my friend. I grieve for all of those who have lost someone dear to them, or are in the process of losing someone. I pray that God will protect them and surround them with His angels, and give them comfort and peace. Death is not fair to the living. There is always a hole where the person was...always a place at the table that is empty, a space in the bed that is no longer warmed, an empty seat in the car, or on the couch... Time does ease the pain, but I don't think it ever takes it away entirely.
May God bless those who loved my friend's friend...and may they find their way through this time with God's grace and fond memories of a life well lived.
Monday, January 2, 2012
On Amy
Ok, so she's probably going to kill me for doing this but I don't care. I do what I do.
I have a friend. Ok, so I have quite a few, but today I want to write about on in particular.
Amy and I have been friends since our daughters were little girls...its been quite a while. We traveled together, laughed together, shared many things with each other and then lost touch- I'm close to perfect but this loss was my fault.
A few months ago we got back together and for me, it was like coming home again. I didn't realize how much I missed her.
Amy is who she is. She does not try to be anyone else. It is a wonderful sense of self-confidence requiring no pretense that is so refreshing to be around.
Amy is one of the few people who can make me laugh out loud simply with a sentence. She has a way with words that few people I've ever met do. She can drop into an perfect Southern accent as easily as a flasher drops his pants and does it with such panache. She can imitate people (not in a cruel way) and tell a story that puts you right there in the center of it. Its amazing. And she has just the right edge of sarcasm that is so amusing, yet not biting.
Amy also has a beautiful caring soul. She is sensative and loving and has such a huge heart it makes the Grinch's NEW heart seem two sizes too small. If you ever have a crisis or sorrow, you definately want her in your corner. Yet she has an inner strength that carries her through those tough times with grace.
She is feisty. 'Nuff said.
She is also dedicated when she makes a decision- like the exercise routine she has recently begun. I just feel good about aquiring workout clothes...she actually uses them!
My friend has been a rock for me in times I really needed it. She has had a laugh when it was necessary, a shoulder when I needed to lean, and support when I just needed someone to understand.
Simply stated, she is an amazing gal...she loves her husband and daughter wholeheartedly, she loves her family, and God. She has a zeal for life and an almost childlike excitement when life warrants it. She is an educator I would love to have had myself had our lifetimes been different. She is creative, responsible, hilarious, and all around who I would love to be more like.
I am proud to be her friend and cannot wait to see what the future holds. Its always a great time with her and I hope y'all get to meet her, or someone like her, some day.
I have a friend. Ok, so I have quite a few, but today I want to write about on in particular.
Amy and I have been friends since our daughters were little girls...its been quite a while. We traveled together, laughed together, shared many things with each other and then lost touch- I'm close to perfect but this loss was my fault.
A few months ago we got back together and for me, it was like coming home again. I didn't realize how much I missed her.
Amy is who she is. She does not try to be anyone else. It is a wonderful sense of self-confidence requiring no pretense that is so refreshing to be around.
Amy is one of the few people who can make me laugh out loud simply with a sentence. She has a way with words that few people I've ever met do. She can drop into an perfect Southern accent as easily as a flasher drops his pants and does it with such panache. She can imitate people (not in a cruel way) and tell a story that puts you right there in the center of it. Its amazing. And she has just the right edge of sarcasm that is so amusing, yet not biting.
Amy also has a beautiful caring soul. She is sensative and loving and has such a huge heart it makes the Grinch's NEW heart seem two sizes too small. If you ever have a crisis or sorrow, you definately want her in your corner. Yet she has an inner strength that carries her through those tough times with grace.
She is feisty. 'Nuff said.
She is also dedicated when she makes a decision- like the exercise routine she has recently begun. I just feel good about aquiring workout clothes...she actually uses them!
My friend has been a rock for me in times I really needed it. She has had a laugh when it was necessary, a shoulder when I needed to lean, and support when I just needed someone to understand.
Simply stated, she is an amazing gal...she loves her husband and daughter wholeheartedly, she loves her family, and God. She has a zeal for life and an almost childlike excitement when life warrants it. She is an educator I would love to have had myself had our lifetimes been different. She is creative, responsible, hilarious, and all around who I would love to be more like.
I am proud to be her friend and cannot wait to see what the future holds. Its always a great time with her and I hope y'all get to meet her, or someone like her, some day.
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