Life Perspective

Ten Days in PJ’s

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Happy New Year!

Heading back to work tomorrow after 10 glorious days off. Ten peaceful, stress-free days in my PJ’s.

I did not really plan to stay in my PJ’s for ten days but on Christmas day the snow started falling and by the next evening there was a foot of snow covering the ground. Son and daughter-in-law cancelled visit due to dangerous road conditions. So hubby smoked a turkey and we, for the first time in 40 years, had dinner alone and with me in my PJ’s.

On Monday, I was scheduled to return to work, but the snow was still falling and the boss (hubby) said not to bother coming in. I am feeling like a lazy sloth so I made a coffee, had a little breakfast, and in my PJ’s watched Netflix on the Behemoth from my bed aka my nest.

Just for the sake if not having to repeat myself here, I did shower and put on fresh PJ’s daily. I mean really, I am being lazy but I’m not a pig. To top off the day I ate leftover creamed spinach and dressing for dinner, also from my nest.

The next day I gathered all that work I had brought home on the 23rd spread it out all over my nest, propped my laptop on the pillow and finished the invoicing as I continued to binged watch movies. All that work tired me out so I then took a 2 hour nap. However, “note to self” working in one’s PJ’s is much less stressful.

Wednesday, still in my PJ’s, I run down to the front porch and take pictures of the snow. Back upstairs, I look out the window and see the elk herd. They look baffled by all the cold white stuff on the ground. They are hungry. They settled for plants, like the bamboo, that are normally on their “do not eat” list.

Thursday, I got a call that my mom’s favorite brother-in-law had gained his wings. Uncle Johnny, the last of his generation. Now with his lovely wife who went before him two years ago, my mom and his brother. Sad ending to the year but he was no longer happy here. I took a deep breath and shed some tears. I certainly am not getting out of my PJ’s today.

Friday, the last day of 2021. Still over a foot of snow and the temperature is in the low 20’s so it is not going away anytime soon. I did manage to do more than lay around and watch Netflix. I was expecting guests on New Year’s Day so I got up and cleared the dining room, put on a festive table cloth that has amber beads around the edge and vacuumed. I organized the meal ingredients ready for preparation tomorrow.

I am still worried about the roads as the snow had started up again. I make a mental note to let my friends know if they are worried about weather, I would understand if they canceled. No sooner does that thought cross my mind than I get an email from friends that they are not well and thought it better to cancel and not share germs.

So hey, time to relax. I start reflecting on a post from New Year’s in 2012, those thoughts end up as the last blog post in 2021. Hubby and I manage to stay up until midnight and cheer in the new year — with a little 7 up and Chambord. The fireworks start and we call it a night.

Along with the very hungry elk, here in the Pacific Northwest we have Anna hummingbirds that live here year round. We put out feeders even in winter, with the below freezing temperatures we bring them in at night put them back out early in the morning. Well, too much Chambord maybe because we forgot to bring them in last night and found this big frozen icicle in the morning. The hummers were not amused, I hear their chit-chit-chit from the nearby trees as I retrieve the frozen mess.

I prepared the traditional black-eye peas for lunch with a side of prime rib and potatoes. No guests, but hubby and I enjoy New Year’s feast together, again alone, for the first time in 40 years. The first time in my PJ’s as well. Good thing too because after that meal the food coma set in and I was forced to take a long winter’s nap.

If you have made it this far, I commend you. It is a long boring story but really, what did you expect from a title that states someone spent 10 days in their PJ’s?

I refuse to feel guilty. I needed this time to reset, 2021 was a tough year. I lost six friends this year and my mom but on the happier side I also became a great-grandmother. I managed, by the grace of God, to stay healthy even though I traveled quite a bit. I still have work, a home, food, transportation, family, and a drawer full of PJ’s. I am blessed.

New Year’s Day 2012

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No not 2012, but 2022. In 2012 my thoughts, my pleas, my prayers were these …

The New Year is fast approaching ~ many of us see the new year as a new beginning, a time to reflect on our lives the past year and resolve to make changes, correct past mistakes, start over.

Tonight I’m thinking why wait every 365 days. I’m going to resolve to make everyday a new beginning; everyday as the sun sets I hope to be thankful for the blessings in my life, to forgive others, to forgive myself and ask for forgiveness for the wrongs I have done. I hope to go to sleep each night with a resolve to look at the new day as a new beginning and opportunity to grow and put the past behind me.

Ten years, it has always been the hope in my heart to live by this creed, I have not always succeeded but I start new every morning. Even so there is something sobering about the new year. A section of time with a beginning and an end. A section of time that records history, life and death and lays it out in 365 day blocks.

The holidays are over, the fireworks have started celebrating and welcoming the new year recorded as 2022. In ten years where will I be? I don’t know. As always, my hope and prayer remain that I see each day as a new beginning, that I count my blessings and fully trust God whatever each day brings.

December Down

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Portions of this may sound like a bit of a rant but bear with me as I reflect on the past month — its joys and frustrations.

December, the last month of the year. Work is winding down but keeping track of the past year and all the accounting that goes with year end, is just gearing up. Looking around at the piles of filing and stacks of unrecorded transactions, I try to assess how much I can get done before my December schedule takes hold.

Ahh yes, this place I call home is a beautiful place but for all its beauty it has its downfalls. Home is located at the foot of the Cascade range in direct line with the opening of the Snoqualmie Pass, when the weather comes and the wind blows … the power goes out. I really don’t like the wind, I don’t mind breezes but the wind, with fearsome 50-70 mile an hour gusts, is terrifying. This year “the weather” really started at Thanksgiving and it came with great force. Fortunately or unfortunately, however you may look at it, the wind is usually the most fierce at night.

Fortunate, because you can’t see the 150 foot trees bowing against the force of the wind doing pirouettes in the sky. Unfortunate, because the big branches break off the trees, hit the house and leave me to wonder what is next as I lie in the dark and listen to the carnage. Then it happens, the power flickers once and comes back on, the adjustable bed deflates. I re-adjust the bed, the power flickers again and comes back on. Then it is off for the count, the power company estimates 8 hours. At dawn it is all over and a peek outside reveals what it looks like a war zone. Although, having never seen a war zone, it is really unfitting to use that comparison. Really I know how blessed I am to live in a land where war is not an evil we have at a our doorsteps.

No power, no catching up work today.

Continue December, granddaughter arrives for 4 day visit with sweet little great-granddaughter, Lily. Nine months old she is delighted as we the tour of the Lights of Christmas at Warm Beach (although not warm). I enjoyed the sweet cuddles, listening to her jabbering about everything that catches her eyes and staring at this new life that is a small part of me, the wonder of it all and the realization that I am now, however impossible it seems, the older generation.

I would have like to jump right back into work but was delayed by yet another storm and power outage. Well, life and plans go on. Next stop Hawaii, and sunshine.

Hawaii, lush green landscapes, beaches, the rhythmic white cap waves methodically rolling to shore and the roaring sound as they crash against the rocks. This particular place we stay is a waterfront condo and from the balcony, I look down and see turtles swimming among the rocks. I find the sound of the surf so calming and relaxing that I am up every morning at four to listen to peaceful swooshing of the waves washing to and fro. A few days in, the local reports are that there is a storm rolling in. After seeing their storm, I find I like Hawaii storms better than Washington storms.

The pièce de résistance of the Hawaii trip was the reunion I had with my lifelong friend. This reunion was neither planned nor orchestrated but a serendipitous event that reassured me that there are powers in control that love me and take joy in making me happy. No amount of planning could have created a better scenario. See my post “Old Friends.”.

Good things only last so long. We return home to Washington to freshly fallen snow. I spend three quick days at the office where a large amount of time is spent opening a mountain of mail, paying bills and payroll —- still no progress on those previously noted tasks and I still have not completed this month’s invoicing.

Not to be defeated yet, I package up all the files and my laptop and head home for Christmas break thinking I will get it done over the long weekend. I started off with very good intentions but the cold and continuing rain dampen my enthusiasm. Oh, I forgot to mention amid the storms and wind, it had been raining constantly since the end of October.

Christmas day came without much fanfare. The “virus,” with variants old and new, has kept caution at a never-ending level. Plus an overnight snow and freezing temperatures made the roads hazardous. Dear hubby smoked a turkey on his Traeger and we had a feast fit for an entire royal court, not just the King. It was, the first time in forty years, Chris and I had Christmas dinner just the two of us, alone.

Six days left until the end if the year and the Christmas snow just kept falling. Over the next 36 hours it fell until more than a foot of snow was on the ground. Amazon cancelled my Fresh grocery delivery (no way they’re gonna navigate these treacherous roads for my $75 worth of groceries). Not a problem as we have enough leftovers to last for many days.

Monday, December 27, not going into the office, I finally organize myself enough in my big nest to complete the first draft of the invoices with only short breaks to go out and take pictures of the snow. So beautiful and peaceful. Peaceful in a different way than the waves. Looking out over the pure white blanket of snow on the ground and the thick layers hanging in the trees coating each branch it seems all should be right in the world… no disease, no war, no sorrow.

More snow Tuesday morning and more expected Wednesday the 29th. Right, now I’m thinking what’s the bother of going in on Thursday because Friday the 31st is the final holiday of the season.

So there you have it, December Down. The year is quickly approaching its end and all those work things I had planned for December can now wait. They will still be here in 2022.

Finally, as I look out and admire the new snow on top of the old snow… as if it perfectly arranged by fate, the power flicks off again.

Christmas Memories

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This sweet memory of my mom when I surprised her on Christmas day 2016 made me smile today. She didn’t recognize me at first… it was the first of many times over the next five years.

The more I watch it, the sweeter it becomes. It just shows you what a value you are to your aging parents and how seeing you is the joy of their lives.

The fact she didn’t recognize me, not even my voice, was a little sad but when she realizes it is me, it made the all night trip worth it. She laughed and laughed about it later that day. There is more video where we are talking through the door. She thought I was some church lady!!!

I love how prominent her Texas accent is when she says, “Oh my Lord! What are you doing here?” Then I hear her crying and it breaks my heart now although I know they were tears of joy.

In the new year remember if you have older parents that the roles in life have flipped. To world you may be somebody but somebody (your parents) you are their whole world.

Merry Christmas Mother. You always made the most decadent ambrosia at Christmas… oranges, cherries, coconut, and sugar. You always said it was the food of the gods. I wonder if you are enjoying it today with God, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

Old Friends

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I don’t really have any “new friends” but I have different stages of “old friends”. I wonder if there is a time when you don’t make new friends? For sure with all the lock downs I haven’t made any new friends the past few years.

Some old friends are newer old friends… 20 years or so but when we met it seemed we had already known each other for many years.

My oldest friend has been through it all with me, she knows all my secrets and I know hers, we’ve done some really stupid things together, partying which often involved drinking too much; we held each other’s hands though births and divorce, illness and supported each other through the loss of our moms – we’ve laughed and cried.

This is Debbie – 45 years since we met in Denver. We’ve spent a lot of years apart and yet the times we are together we pick up where we left off and there is never a moment of awkward silence.

You know those times of serendipitous events that are really divine appointments that I wrote about before? Last week I was blessed with another one.

We were going to Hawaii for a pre-Christmas holiday. Two days before leaving, I opened a Christmas card from Debbie in it she said she was going to Hawaii as well. Our trips overlapped and we were on the same island in condos only one mile apart. We could not have planned it better if we tried.

We both really needed this time together. Four days, to just enjoy each others company, to laugh to reminisce about all of those crazy things we did when we were much younger. I have to say she remembers a lot of stuff I do not recall. Most things I would be ashamed to remember that I did.

My ex thought she was a bad influence on me but isn’t that the way it goes? The greatest friendships have a yin and yang combination. I married young and really had no wild and crazy side when we met; Debbie was a natural comic, quick and witty. I always would tell her that Rosanne had nothing compared to her.

My old friend, she is a fighter and she is a survivor. Six years ago she was diagnosed with breast cancer. The bad one, but really they are all bad. During chemo and radiation her mother began to decline and she had to travel away from home to say a hard goodbye. Prayers are answered because after five years of treatment, she is cancer free.

So yes, every visit, every moment is that much more precious. We hugged and kissed, our hearts ached when we parted.

I was a girl scout and there is a scouting song that goes like this:

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other is gold.
A fire burns bright, it warms the heart. We’ve been friends, from the very start.
You have one hand, I have the other. Put them together, we have each other.
You help me and I’ll help you and together we will see it through.
Across the land, Across the sea; Friends forever we will always be ❤️

Debbie, you are my treasure. You are gold.

Our First Thanksgiving

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Tonight I am am thankful for Chrissie ❤️

This picture was taken on our FIRST Thanksgiving together (1982), this year will be Thanksgiving number FORTY!

On that first Thanksgiving in Denver Chrissie got up from the table and fixed plates for my little dogs Lucy and British.

He can be fun that way and as I have expressed before he can be all business. He is smart, I am often amazed how he can hold all that information in his brain. He works hard. He is not afraid to take risks and often it is the secret to his success.

Beyond that he is generous to many without pursing any acknowledgment or gratitude. He shows mercy to those who have hit bottom and have made poor decisions and offers support. He is passionate about his dreams. He brings breakfast in bed and then cleans the kitchen. He chokes up over sentimental movies (more than I do). He can be mischievous. He loves his sons. He loves God.

He is a blessing (a favor or gift bestowed by God) and I am blessed to have shared so many Thanksgivings with him.

Love Lifted Me

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I once wrote about whether serendipitous events were by coincidence or divine appointment and whether God can use any means to send specific messages. I believe an experience that touched my heart today is more than a coincidence and one of those times that God’s message was for me.

It started this morning when I posted this picture because today is six months since my mother passed. I woke up thinking of her and she has been on my heart all day and this evening.

In 2012, Chris and I took my mom to Israel with us; to say it was a challenge was an understatement. During that trip I realized how badly her dementia had become. Chris was a saint, because some days I lost my patience.

During the entire journey my mother sat behind me in the car and she hummed or sang the hymn “Love Lifted Me”. Over, and over again, for 10 days. I was convinced it was a power struggle and she was doing it just to spite me. Several times I tried to change the tune. I tried playing music on my iPhone (even gospel music which she loved) but “Love Lifted Me” continued. At some point and I don’t think I was very nice about it, I asked her to please stop.

This November I have been making a daily post about thankfulness and things in my life I am thankful for. I often start with a quote from wise people that have passed their wisdom down to us.

This day’s quote was, by Samuel Butler: “Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only. ”

Oh how true is that! I wrote about my heart that could be ugly and less than what God wants it to be. Reflecting back now I know, sadly some of days on that trip my heart was not where God wanted it to be.

So tonight I posted “Reflection of My Heart,”to my blog and logged onto Facebook to share it there. In my news feed were ‘suggested’ videos as usual and the first one up was Randy Travis singing “Love Lifted Me.”

Coincidence, I think not. I do not even own a Randy Travis CD, album or song. I picked a quote to write my “thankful” story without any particular situation in mind and my mother was on my heart because of the time since her passing. Three things came together today and combined they sent a message that struck deep in my soul.

Yes, I played the video of “Love Lifted Me” all the way through and my heart could hear my mom’s voice humming along in the backseat as we traveled through the Holy Land.

Here is the link. Randy Travis. Love Lifted Me

https://youtu.be/5KX-TnmSNqQ

Reflection of My Heart

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Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.

~ Samuel Butler


I have to say this quote, at first, made me chuckle. I try to avoid mirrors as most days I don’t even recognize the person staring back at me… some days she is just an old lady and other times I see my mother.

After my initial amusement, I thought about the true depth of this quote and it cuts right to the truth of the condition of our human nature. Deep down I have nothing to brag about. When I examine my heart, I recognize my dark thoughts, my pride, my self-centered actions, and the many other ugly things that hide beneath the surface. Thank God that I do not see the blackness in my heart every time I look into a mirror.

Jeremiah 17:9 NIV says. The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

It is hard to understand the evil that men do; I struggle to understand the things I do at times that I know displeases God. However, I am thankful that God knows me, he examines my heart and He can lead me, renew His spirit in me and help me walk in His ways and live a life that glorifies Him.

Who can understand it? God can. He understands it, He can change it, He can heal it.

Psalm 139: 23-24 NASB ~ Search me, God, and know my heart; Put me to the test and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there is any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way.

Psalm 41:10 BSB ~ Create in me a pure heart, oh, God, and renew your right Spirit within me.

Ezekiel 36:26- ~ I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put My Spirit within you and bring it about that you walk in My statutes, and are careful and follow My ordinances.

Thank you Lord.

Thanks for Photo by Taylor Smith on Unsplash

Aloha Friday

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Today I am thankful it is Friday.

I am also thankful that I have a job but when the week winds down, I am especially thankful that for the next two days that I can rest. Well, not really rest insomuch that I do nothing, I have weekend chores but I am generally at my home and I find it a place of comfort and peace. It is a place away from the busyness of life and the noise of non-stop opinions and chaos. I don’t have to dress for the world, or put on a face for the world; I can just be me.

My sweet Becky often sends me an “Aloha Friday” text message. That phrase comes from the 1940’s when the Hawaiian clothing industry encouraged businesses to allow there workers to wear Aloha shirts on Friday. The trend hit the Bank of Hawaii when it’s President adopted it and allowed his workers to do the same. When the practice spread to the mainland it was known as casual Friday.

The Hawaiian Island Clothing Company says this about Aloha Friday, “Friday is more than just an opportunity to dress casually to work, it is a reminder to help others. It is our reminder to spread Aloha.“

And… according to the Skyline Hawaii Blog:

“Aloha is an essence of being: love, peace, compassion, and a mutual understanding of respect. Aloha means living in harmony with the people and land around you with mercy, sympathy, grace, and kindness.”

I can get behind all that… Aloha Friday everyone.

God Joins Hearts

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Thankful for family… those connected by blood and those connected by heart. You’ve heard the saying that blood is thicker than water but I say that when God joins two hearts, the bond is stronger than blood.

Without getting too deep into the crazy mix of my family, I want to say I am so thankful for the family God has added to my life.

One of these family members is Karen. Karen is actually married to my ex who is also my step-brother. In the past introductions were a little awkward (once we looked at each other like…what do I call you?) but now it is truer and easier to say she is my sister-in-law but really better yet a sister. A sister that came into my family when I needed it most.

Karen joined my family circle in a crisis. We first met when my oldest son was in the hospital after a near-fatal motorcycle accident 30 years ago. She was a supportive then and has stayed a source of strength and comfort through many highs and lows over the years.

Over the years, we went to graduations, we saw a son go to war, we attended weddings and funerals and welcome grandchildren. In 2018, she put in three long days in Texas helping us clean out our parent’s house. A task above and beyond any obligation or call of duty. We had many moments of laughter and it surely took a saint to work through more than 40 years of clutter and dust.

Throughout this difficult year Karen stood by us all as we said goodbye to mother. Not just my mother but her mother-in-law and the mother who loved her, her husband and his sister more than any mother could love a son or daughter.

My mom told me one once that Karen told her we were “buds.” Yes, we were, but we are more than buddies and friends, we became family and we will remain family to the end.

Today is Karen’s birthday. Happy birthday Karen. We met just before your 34th birthday and you have proven to be an amazing gift and blessing in my life.

The Travelin’ Man

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Those of you who know my husband will understand. He is a motivated, driven, hard working never going to stop kind of man. Some would say a workaholic but to him his work is his passion, it challenges him and it keeps him going and he loves what he does.

Below is a post from 2015 and it is even more relevant today.

Once again he is home safe. Chrissie has always traveled a lot, I teased once that I’ve lived in Seattle 30 years but he’s only been here 15! It became common for him to be gone often. However, it seems now that whenever he is away, I am more concerned that he is well and taking care of himself and I am more thankful when he makes it home safely.

So you get the picture, he travels a lot and he works a lot. His last trip overseas was February 2020, just at the beginning of the Covid pandemic. Five days before returning home he became sick with what he felt was food poisoning. By the morning of his trip home he was pretty well depleted of everything as you can imagine after three days of dysentery. It was a grueling trip back, and because the food poisoning caused his GI track to react in a fiercely negative fashion, he neither ate or drank during the trip. Well that was a recipe for disaster, I picked him up from the airport and took him to an urgent care facility, who then in turn sent him to the Emergency Room. It was food poisoning caused by E-coli and Campylobacter infections which caused him to become extremely dehydrated (along with the no fluids on the flight). All of this sent him into acute renal failure and he spent four days in the hospital.

So in 2020 I was very thankful he made it home, albeit in rough shape. Then Covid hit and all travel came to a grinding halt.

While he was home all this time, from February 2020 to November 2021, he did not lay idle. As I said, he likes to stay busy and if he has 15 minutes of free time he’ll find an hours worth of work to cram into it. He became interested in the local homeless shelter organization. He eventually accepted a position on their Board and worked to help them find solutions to expand their capacity during the covid pandemic.

Last week was his first overseas trip in 20 long months. Believe me, he had been trying to organize me too and I was actually looking forward to a little “down time.” Although the covid outbreak in Eastern Europe was high, Chris had been fully vaccinated and received his booster in September.

Off he went into the skies. Traveling again but armed with tools for sanitizing and many cautionary words of advise from his dear wife. He arrived safely on Sunday and then on Tuesday he became ill. Almost a repeat of 2020 – this time it went on for five days. On Thursday he went for his required covid test to reenter the US, it was NEGATIVE, so he was going to try and get home.

He made the first leg of his journey, a five hour flight to Amsterdam and when he got off the plane he was nearly too weak to walk. His traveling companion, who was headed to Detroit, helped him to the KLM Lounge. He tried eating and drinking but his heart was racing and he was short-of-breath. After a very worrisome phone call, I called the Amsterdam Airport Schiphol. I asked for the medical clinic and a very kind doctor answered in Dutch. I asked, “Do you speak English?”

“Yes of course” he replied. Of course he did, according to Language on the Move, 77% of people in the Netherlands are trilingual. In my panicked tone I explained the issue. He calmly told me to have someone from the KLM Lounge bring him over. The compassionate and concerned ladies at the KLM lounge took him in a wheelchair to the Medical Center – Schiphol. The medical staff there quickly assessed him and administered three bags of IV fluids. After four hours he was feeling a boost from that and was ready to go. The clinic wheeled him back to the KLM Lounge where they rebooked him on a flight home for the next day. They then took him to the hotel within the airport where he rested and spent the night.

The next morning, he woke up not feeling quite as well as he did after the IV fluids but because they had booked him on a direct flight to Seattle in First Class, he thought he could make the trip home. I was still very anxious about the whole situation but getting home was the thing that was driving him to press on. It was a long, long night. I kept tracking the flight and my heart skipped a beat when it no longer showed on the tracker, however it was due to the fact they were out of range over Greenland and Northern Canada. I tried texting him as some airlines offer free texting via iMessage but it was radio silence for ten agonizing hours.

When I arrived at the airport he showed up after only a few minutes due to the fact he cleared Customs with his Global Entry status. I have to say, he did not look as bad as I expected, although he was sweating profusely. We left the airport and went straight to the hospital skipping the urgent care step this time. After five hours we left the ER, we discovered he had similar issues as before but added inflammation and infection in his colon; again acute kidneys injury (although not as bad as 2020, I think due to the fluids he received at Schiphol) and again E coli plus giardia lamblia infections. The doctor said that because of his age they would ordinarily keep him to continue IV fluid so insure his kidneys recovered, but hospitals are not the safest places these days. We came home with two different antibiotics and stern instructions to return if he did not improve.

So there it is. Once again he made it home and although not completely safe, he had the prayers of friends I had called during my panic and guardians along the way to help him. Quite possibly guardian angels. He has plans to travel to Israel in three and half weeks. All I can do is pray he makes it home safely which is what I have done for the past thirty-nine years. I tried telling him that although he feels 35 his body is 70. He’s not buying it.

The End

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I’ve written nothing for weeks, it seems the only thing on my mind is our eventual end in this world. Death.

I feel like I shouldn’t write about it anymore but it has consumed my thoughts. I want to move on but after I lost my mom, my BFF lost hers only a few weeks later. Then two other friends followed the same sad path. We are all moving from one plane to another. Being daughters and caretakers to wondering what do we do now after we finish sorting through our mother’s belongings and closing down their lives.

What is the meaning of life if it just comes to an end and we are reduced to a few boxes of our treasures and we are remembered only by a few close loved ones?

Recently an older couple that owned the townhouse next to one we owned in Seattle, downsized and moved. Before they moved the husband asked if he could use our trash and recycling to dispose of some extra things. Of course I told him it would be OK. The next week I went to put some things in trash and inside the trashcan he had tossed a cat litter box and some folders in the bottom. I picked up one of the folders and it was his diploma from the University of Pennsylvania. The others similar diplomas representing accomplishments in his life. It really made me sad … is this what it comes down to – all that you worked for, all your goals in life are tossed out in the trash with a dirty old cat litter box? I wanted to rescue them for him, I wanted to preserve what he had worked for, his life’s achievements. It seemed so final, so futile. What is left, what is the purpose of it all?

As I think about all these things, I realize summer has past and winter is fast approaching. I look forward with dread, I dread winter… I dread the wind, the rain, the cold, the dead plants in the garden and the mess in my yard. My mood is already deep in winter. Can I just wake up tomorrow in Spring?

I know the answer. I must go through this winter, the one in my heart and the one outside. I am calling out to God, please Lord rescue me. Pull me through this season a of life and carry me to the end.

Weeds

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“What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I live near the foothills of the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. Today, July 27, is the 42nd day with no measurable rainfall. This is amazing for several reasons. One, this area gets an average of 66 inches of rain a year compared to Seattle, which is famous for its rain as it is its coffee, that gets only 38 inches. Two, the rain rolls in here and just lingers around the foothills dumping rain, rain and more rain. All this rain keeps the grass growing and the moss green.

During this 42 day dry spell, the grass has turn brown and is as dry bed of straw. However when I look across my lawn it is speckled with spots of green. Those green spots are the weeds. The drought conditions have killed everything —- what I don’t water dies, but the weeds seem to flourish even when conditions are dry, hot and harsh.

I did a bit of research on this phenomenon and it seems several things contribute to this; in dry conditions weed seeds are protected from bacteria and fungus that break them down which preserves them until the rains return. The other reason is that weeds have strong deep root systems that are successful in searching out the water deep in soil.

Weeds are survivors —- strong, with deep roots and their renewal systems are protected. I know some people that are like weeds, no matter what life throws at them they dig deep for the the water of life to give them the strength to face each new day. They store up the seeds of hope and joy, so that after they have survived the hot dry harsh circumstances, those seeds flourish in another season.

So as I look around my dead and dying lawn dotted with green blotches and I think I may prefer to be a weed. When life is harsh, I want to be a survivor and maybe, just maybe, I have virtues that are not yet discovered.

Thirty Days in Heaven

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June 23rd, it has been an entire month since you passed away and yet, you are not gone. You are in my dreams, every night. I am trying to change the outcome, trying to do something different, trying to think of what I missed, what if I had made different choices, the right choices. Did I make the right choices?

You are with me during the day. It seems everyday there is something I read, something I hear, something I smell that brings you alive in my mind. Words of wisdom, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” or “beauty is as beauty does’ or maybe just “God is so good.”

Saturday, Chris came home from the store with yellow crook-necked squash. Oh how I loved the squash casserole you would make with cheese, green chilies baked to a soft gooey consistency of mac and cheese except with a yellow vegetable.

I look in the mirror and I see you staring back at me. People would always say we looked alike but I never saw it as much as I do now. At your funeral, your dear friend Leslie came to me and said, “If ever a day you looked liked your mother, today is the day.” Is this how it is, from this day forward I am the living replica of who you were?

Yes, we look alike, but we were different in so many ways. I am more bling, you were more practical. You never painted your nails, never wore more makeup than lipstick. You loved cotton and white, from socks to undergarments and I know you never owned red knickers.

I am more outspoken and sass, you were more patient and kind. You had endless faith and mine often waivers. Your poetry is all about how much you love God and how good God has been to you; mine is about life and perceptions and thankfulness.

Because we lived so far apart, I think some days I don’t really realize you are gone. I get up and think you are there, in Texas sitting your recliner with Precious in your lap watching Andy Griffith in Matlock or listening to the Gaither family or reading your bible. You probably have a big glass of ice tea with lemon and will have a baked potato with lots of butter and cheese for lunch.

I will never have answers to the questions in my dreams. I know that you were suffering and that you would not have wanted to continue living that way. However, knowing does not, for now, end the doubt in my head.

I hope you have had a wondrous first month in heaven with your Lord. I know I teased you once because you loved artist depictions of Him and I said that you were going to get to heaven and not recognize Him. Your response, “OH YES I WILL” and I’m am sure you did. Have a fabulous day mother, and even though I was the “bossy one,” all my actions were done out of love.

The Long Goodbye

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Tomorrow, I say my final goodbye to the person who gave me life, my mother. She crossed the threshold from this earth into her heavenly home on Pentecost Sunday, the day God sent His Spirit as a comforter, a helper and a friend.

I had been sitting by her bedside for ten days. The last five she was unresponsive, “resting peacefully” the nurses would say. However the days that proceeded those she suffered so much pain it broke my heart to hear her cries.

Sunday morning, I whispered in her ear, “Today is Pentecost Mother, the day God sent his spirit to earth. Perhaps he will come today to take you home.”

My mother needed the comfort, help and friendship from the Holy Spirit these past few months and weeks. She relied on Him from the time she was 16. He was her stronghold and guide through many difficult days.

It was ten long days of saying goodbye, of singing hymns, of holding her hand, of listening to sweet anecdotes from staff and others that loved her.

I thought I was prepared, I thought I would be relieved, but the moment her spirit left her body and she took her last breath, as peaceful as it was, the reality that she was gone overwhelmed me with a flood of emotion that was unexpected.

The truth is, no matter how many days you prepare yourself, there are very few sorrows in life that are as deep as losing your Mother.

My Mother’s Tears

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It says in the Psalms 56:8.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

In 2000 I visited Israel for the first time and I purchased this small blown glass tear bottle or tear catcher. It is said that use of these bottles date back over 3000 years when in Middle Eastern societies mourners would collect their tears in them.

My mother cried many tears. She was tenderhearted. Emotional. She was, I believe, an empath; if someone was hurting she felt their pain, her heart would break with theirs and she would shed tears with them.

When look at this little bottle, I realize that sadly it would not have held my mother’s tears. She shed tears of sadness, tears of sorrow, tears of regret, of loss and rejection. She also shed tears of happiness, tears of joy, tears of love and of thankfulness.

Mother read her bible and several devotionals every morning and after her study she shed tears through her prayers, for her family, for her friends, for her past mistakes, and for God’s love for her.

Sometimes it seemed her tears were endless and ofttimes hard to understand or cope with. When I would call and find her crying, I would ask her why? Her most frequent answer was, “because God is so good”

Today I rejoice because my mother is in heaven with the Savior she loved and served all her days. She can feel through her very being the overwhelming depth of God’s love. She is singing and rejoicing and all the things of this earth that brought sorrow and sadness are gone.

So even though this little bottle would not have been large enough to hold her earthly tears for even a day, I know that the bible says the place where she is today is a place where…

“He will wipe every tear from [her] eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Revelation 21:4NiV

Long Journey Home

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It has been a long week sitting at Mother’s bedside. She is still with us and she has not had food or drink in 3 days. We are not eager to let her go but want her suffering to end.

On Wednesday night the nurse said that she felt Mother is waiting on someone. I told the only one who has not said goodbye (of her children) is my brother who is an alcoholic. They had not spoken in ten years. I told her that I cannot call him as the last calls I had with him were abusive.

I told my mother on Tuesday that if she was waiting to hear from Howard, it was ok to go because God was going to handle it and he’d explain it all once she was in heaven.

Yesterday, Thursday, we talked to the social worker about calling him. The social worker did call my brother and he agreed to speak to Mother. Miracles of miracles, he was decent and told her he loved her and it was ok to go. Actually he said more than I ever hoped for or expected. He tried to bring up their past relationship issues and the social worker told him “That is in the past, this is now, and your Mother needs to know you’ll be ok when she leaves.”

I could have never had that conversation with him, it would have ended in an abusive tiraid.

When the night nurse came in, she told us that after we left on Wednesday night a young aid came on duty who had a good relationship with Mother. After she went down to check on Mother, she came back and asked “Has Mrs Patsy been verbal at all?” The nurse told her she had not been for days. The the aid said, “She just told me ‘I am waiting for somebody’ “

We told the night nurse about the call to my brother. She called the aid at home on her day off and brought the phone to us so she could tell us exactly what happened.

I pray that ‘someone’ was my brother and she can now be released from the cares and worries of this world and move onto glory.

Ten minutes after the call to the aid she showed up to see us. She was so young and sweet. She told us she would dance down the halls with Mother on the way to the showers and how Mother want to be sure she didn’t lose any of her big bobby-pins. Oh my, we all knew about those wave holding bobby-pins and we all laughed. I know if Mother could still hear she was laughing with us. It was a sweet, sweet moment.

Today is Friday, May 21. Say a prayer that God will call her home.

Fairness in Life

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Is life ever really fair? With all the talk about equality and leveling the playing field, I wonder if that is ever really possible? There may be some areas that life can be made easier for some but every situation is different. Is it fate, circumstances or poor life choices that lead to the the unfairness we see in life?

Where does society step in to ease these inequities?

Is it fair that new parents have to bury their 8 month old who dies of leukemia? Is there social program to end their hardships?

Any illness not caused by lifestyle that strikes the young is more than unfair. Childhood diabetes relies on costly insulin for survival. How do we compensate for their hardships?

Is it fair that a tender age girl is abused and her childhood is stolen? Can society do anything to change what she lost?

Is it fair that a person works their entire life gives to others and then is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s spend their twilight years just existing? No joy, no understanding of life around them.

Is it fair for an infant to be born into poverty and an addictive mother? Can they overcome this difficult start and prosper in life?

What we may deem as unfair, our minor little day-to-day annoyances, are really nothing at all to compared to the many who know real suffering in the world. For them, I would say life really does not seem to be fair.

When I was in my twenties I knew a lady, Anita, who was in her 60’s and she shared this nugget on life and fairness with me. “ Life is not fair, however if we all hung our troubles on a clothesline for everyone to see and we were given the opportunity to choose a line of troubles —- we would return to our own line.”

Many times over the years I have thought of her and her simple wisdom. In life we all face obstacles and hardships.

The most successful people I know that overcome the obstacles in life are those who keep going. They work hard, they get up even when it is hard, they change the things they can — they don’t quit.

So often we do not know the burdens people are carrying but think of those you do know. List your troubles and imagine you had theirs. Would you trade?

All is not fair or equitable in this life; yet life is a gift. Live it.

Again I saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to those with knowledge, but time and chance happen to them all.

Ecclesiastes 9:11 – ESV

The Rearview Mirror

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One of DrB’s favorite sayings goes like this, “The rear view mirror is small and the windshield is big because you are suppose to focus on what is ahead of you while being reminded and learn from what you left behind.”

For the most part I can see the logic in that, however I see a reversal in the perspective. Recent events have led me to believe that the window to what lies ahead is very small. It is really like looking through the peephole and trying to determine what lies outside.  Looking back through the rearview mirror you see how decisions you make were not always the best for all concerned.

My mother had been living in a nursing home for the past several years, her days were filled with greeting people in the lobby and spreading joy among the staff.  In all reality her health was better than it had been in years.  She spent time around other people, she got more exercise because she walked the halls and she definitely ate healthier.  Her short-term memory was shot, but she knew us all and she was still a bit of a flirt and had that impish sense of humor.

A few months ago my mother had a clogged artery in her leg.  The doctor called me with this grim news and indicated considering her age there was likely nothing that could be done.  When he described to me how she would pass I nearly lost it.  As a small glimmer of hope he indicated that he had placed a call to a specialist and as soon as he heard something he would call.  That was 10AM, I heard nothing until midnight when a surgeon in the neighboring town called to give me his assessment.  He would do the surgery, there could be many roadblocks along the way, she might not get blood flow restored to her lower leg and she might not survive the surgery.  I felt like I was looking through that peephole in the door but I wanted to give her a chance.  I believed she had so much still to give.

The procedure was a complete success, blood flow was restored all the way to her foot.  Within a few days after the surgery she was her mischievous self, flirting with the male nurses, and eating well.  Physical therapy had been in and stood her on her feet.  I was hopeful for her full recovery.  That was October, this is April.  Six months later I am looking into the rearview mirror and questioning my decision.

My mother has not walked since the surgery.  In addition her memory short and long term have declined, she cannot recall words and struggles to get her thoughts out.  She will mimic and repeat what I say but struggles to find her own words.  She recently became a Great-great-grandmother but she doesn’t comprehend that amazing fact.  She will ask “Who?” and I tell her but she doesn’t really remember her great-granddaughter visiting, she doesn’t even remember her grandson. 

It breaks my heart to see her in the convalescent recliners wheeled out into the common area in  front of everyone.  I know she would not want this!  She would not want to present herself to the world (albeit her small world) like this.  She never wanted people to know she could not manage and take care of herself, pride maybe, but she was always a very private person keeping her failings to herself was a form of maintaining her dignity.

Was this a false hope on my part? Should have let her go?  The day after the surgery she asked my sister, “Why didn’t you let me die?”  I ask myself that now.  When I see her now, my heart breaks.  She would not have wanted this to be the way she lived her final days.  She would not want to live like this, I would not want to live like this.

If I could only have seen then, what I see now,  looking into the rearview mirror.  I was looking through a peephole, it would have been nice to have a full view through the windshield but that is not the way life works. Decisions are based on your best hopes for a positive outcome and looking behind does often give you an opportunity to learn.


—

God’s Kiss

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This morning I received my first Covid19 vaccine. My appointment invitation came through my doctor’s office on January 19, and was scheduled at an affiliate hospital. Three days before my original appointment date, I received an e-mail to say they had cancelled my appointment to prioritize second doses. A second e-mail informed me the vaccination was rescheduled two weeks away and the location had been move to the Microsoft campus in Redmond. When it comes to change with things I am uncomfortable with in the first place, I do not react well. This was no exception.

Now generally, I am not a conspiracy-prone type of person. However, there is so much good/bad and true/false information out there, it leaves one struggling about what to believe or who to trust. First of all, I have several friends and acquaintances who for moral and/or religious reasons are adamantly opposed to the vaccine and they had been bombarding my mailbox with videos from every well meaning, self-proclaimed expert and God-fearing prophet in the ether. Secondly, I am 65 and I have only ever gotten one flu shot and that was only because I was caring for my son who was extremely ill and immune compromised. I am not an anti-vaxer; I am cautious about foreign substances in my body and even the “experts” have changed their stories. Finally, I do believe God sends us signs and messages and I have been praying for answers. When the original appointment was cancelled then moved further away to a campus that has thousands of people, I began to question whether or not I should go. Maybe it is a sign I should not, and I have had the past two weeks to fret over the issue.

Awake at 4 AM, I go downstairs to search out some final truth about this vaccine. I send a Whats-app message to a friend in Israel who has received the vaccine in hopes of gleaning some knowledge from her. She messaged back that the congregation there is online streaming a worship service. I tune in and was encouraged by the message and song. Then I searched for a God-lead perspective and I find an organization that I trust. This organization had a podcast that discussed the vaccine, the origins of the cell-lines used to test it and the moral ethical issues surrounding the use. The video that followed that one was from ZDoggMD, a doctor I have listened to in the past who has a podcast where he openly and honestly gives easy to understand explanations on medical issues. I listen to his podcast and his experience with the vaccine and why many, as he himself did, have a stronger reaction to the second dose.

By this time I have decided to go to the appointment at Microsoft and take everything one step at a time.

As you can imagine, the vaccination center there was very, very organized. People greeted me warmly at the door as I walk into a sectioned off area with attendants in plexiglass booths. They ask to see the QR Code that was sent, took my temperature and gave me a sticker to wear that says, “I’ve been screened.” (Later when it in a mirror notice it is upside down…I was in a a daze and my glasses weren’t on). I was sent down a long roped off hallway to the next check-point where they again ask to see the QR Code on my phone. Another person greeted me and took me into a room with ten plexiglass booths, where I was asked to verify my name and address, show my ID and the QR code again. When I finished I was directed to the entrance of large room with about thirty vaccination stations; there I was escorted to one of the stations, each manned with a nurse and a tech (also encased in plexiglass). The tech verified my QR Code again and the nurse greeted me and asked my name.

Now this is were things get interesting. I smile and although we all have masks on, I can see she smiles back. I tell her that I am very apprehensive about getting this vaccination. This nurse, Kim, is so kind and understanding; she tells me not to worry that I have an old nurse that she has retired from Swedish Hospital (we discover later she is really not that old… just a few months younger than me.) I tell her my son is in Swedish Hospital right now with a bowel blockage. She says she had a blockage and a resection once and that she knows all the GI’s down there.

As she starts to name names, I ask, “Do you know Dr Menon?”

She replies, “Oh my gosh he is the sweetest man.” (I agree, in many of my stories from 2013, I talk about what a guardian angel he was when my son was so very ill.)

She tells me she was in charge of the ER in the hospital where Dr. Menon did his residency and she says half jokingly that she trained him. We go on to have this semi-Love-Fest conversation about Dr Menon. I get her name and tell her I will let him know that I saw her.

The final step in this journey is waiting in a large conference room for the prescribed 15 minutes to pass to insure there is no adverse reaction to the vaccine. Ten numbered rows, ten chairs each spaced six feet apart. By time I reach my chair I am elated. All my anxiety and angst have flown away. Was this a coincidence? Or was it confirmation that even in the littlest things in life, God knows our hearts and cares for us? He, in the most amazing way, set up the plan to put my mind at ease and comfort me.

I was going to title this “God’s Care and Love – Part II” but when I got back to the office I messaged my friend in Israel to tell her the story. She replied, “Wonderful story! God kissed you today!”

Yes, yes He did.