Lovewatch

Tags

Death, God, life, Peace, Thoughts

This past Monday began as it usually does. I wake at the buttcrack of dawn, downing coffee as I get the dogs fed and “pottied”, getting myself dressed and heading out to spend the morning and early afternoon with P & C.

Whereas the typical Monday has usually been spent playing dominos, watching westerns, playing on the computer together, downing enormous amounts of coffee, and bouncing between conversation and companionable comfortable silences… this one is a bit different.

True to form, I’m met at the door by two dogs bouncing up and down and vying with each other for the first bit of attention. And as I let myself in the front door, I hear “Well there’s Susan! Hello darlin!”

But I am not greeted by the sight of a wheelchair being propelled with one leg to the door for a good morning smooch and a goofy grin when I produce a couple of doughnuts. I walk instead to the side of a hospital bed placed in the living area so that C can be a part of all the activity.

2 weeks ago, he was brought home from the hospital with Hospice’s help. The days have been up and down… one day being quite alert and the next few being the kind of days when nothing can rouse him. With each one that passes we know that the end is closer and that C will soon be Home with our Father.

This day was an “alert” day and as I bent over the side of the bed, I was greeted with a pair of lips puckerin’ up for a smooch! Though it’s difficult to understand what he’s saying at times, “I love you” came through loud and clear.

The last “alert” day we had together before this one, I was feeding him cream of wheat and chattering away about all manner of things when he reached up to stop my wrist and said “I’m dying”. In his way, he was preparing me for what I already knew was going to happen.

While P was gone for an hour to take care of other things that needed her attention too, I sat in a chair next to the bed watching this man that I have grown to love dearly, holding his hand as he slept. The house quiet, the lights dim, I was startled from my thoughts by a “HEY”…”Whatcha need C?”… “I love you”… “I love you too C”… then quiet as he drifted off to sleep once more.

This was no deathwatch… this was a lovewatch!

I thought back on all the shared suppers and the endless games of dominos and Wii Bowling and C’s very first SuperBowl party, of him sneaking sweet pickles and crackers before guests even had a shot at them at the Christmas party, of organ music serenades, of him dancing in his chair to music as it played and of him sitting before the stage at church and watching as I played with the band there, a crooked smile on his face. And I sat there praising God for this man and all he’d brought to  my life. For the smiles and the pranks and the childlike joy and the laughter and the love and the intensity with which he lived life within the physical boundaries he’d been dealt.

Oh such love!

I left the house that afternoon as P rested in the recliner at his bedside, holding his hand and being there with him as he slept. A picture that will not soon be erased from my mind…another lovewatch!

The call came this morning. The battle is over. C is with Our Father and finally at peace and whole again. There have been tears but there is also peace and gladness in the knowing that there is no more pain or suffering for this man… only joy!

And I know darn good and well he already has the dominos set up waiting for me!

Concierge

Tags

Burdens, God, life, Love, Luggage, New Year, Resolutions, Thoughts

2009 is almost a memory. In a few days the new year will begin and many of us will have spent the week between Christmas and New Years Eve making “Resolutions” for our lives which more often than not will be broken within a month. Some will resolve to lose weight, to stop smoking, to exercise more… using the first of the new year as a marker for a fresh start. And hopefully they’ll succeed at keeping those resolutions.

I’m no stranger to the New Years Resolution, nor am I a stranger to not keeping them. The only resolution I have actually been able to keep so far is the resolution to not make resolutions for the coming year.

This past year has been incredibly full of pain and heartache. There have been life changes and challenges that have often left me feeling paralyzed, unable to do much of anything but put a good game face on for people. I’ve kept the fears and the hurt and the pain to myself, internalizing it and trying to handle it all myself. It’s something I’ve done for as many years as I can remember, both in times of singleness and in marriage. In the interest of not hurting or worrying those I love most, I’ve kept the words to myself… not sharing them in person or on this blog.

I’ve not been fair to them… nor to myself.

I picked up a book several months ago by Max Lucado called “Travelling Light”. In thumbing through it, I began to understand the reason for my weariness… I was carrying too much luggage! Luggage I was never intended to bear by myself. And the weight of that luggage was weighing me down to the point of not being able to relax and enjoy the life or share the talents that my God has given me. It kept me from writing… and it kept me from being “real” with the people I love the most.

So this year I resolve to travel lightly! To say what I have to say and be who I am with no apologies… to toss the luggage of guilt and fear and anxiety to God who has promised me that He’ll carry it for me. So that I can be who He’s meant me to be all along… for I am fearfully and wonderfully made by Him.

This year I will resolve that my voice be heard by those who love me and whom I love. I resolve that my stories will be told, simple though they may be at times, in the hopes that they touch the hearts of my loved ones and those I have yet to meet.

Will these resolutions go the way that most of them over the years have? Right down the toilet?

Something tells me they won’t… because I have the greatest of concierges walking beside me, grasping the handle of my luggage and gently taking it from me.

I will allow Him to do so.

Finding My Voice Again…Part 2

Tags

God, Happiness, life, Love, Pain, Struggle, Thoughts

During the last few months I have so often wanted to sit down and write that it has almost been a physical ache. The “paralysis” would kick in and there I would sit, fearful in many ways that the words that I might write would be of no value to anyone. There were times when I’d sit to write and be able to do nothing but sit with tears running down my face. In my lifetime I have never been through the kind of tough times that I have been going through recently. I couldn’t bring myself to write pieces of “fluff” because that wasn’t what life was all about then. It was about pain and struggle and questioning…and eventually learning and strength and peace and joy and faith and friendship and love.

My other concern was that my words (IF they ever came to be transferred to this blog) might cause more worry for my mother and my daughter who are two of my most loyal supporters in life AND on my blog. It isn’t as if they didn’t know what has been going on for I have shared it all with them every step of the way, painful though it may have been. As a result, those relationships have deepened in ways that I couldn’t have imagined possible. It’s my hope that they both feel the same way too.

For so many years I was the one who always seemed to manage to land on her feet in a way that seemed to most people to be effortless. What words could I write that would be of any value to anyone else when I was in actuality finding it difficult to maintain a steady balance?

I wish I could tell you that the struggles are over.  They are not.  The financial problems abound.  The house must be sold sooner than planned. The items that were not kept or put in storage have been sold at auction.  I’ve had to learn to swallow my pride and accept and seek help from places and people I would never have thought I’d have to go to as there is no money coming in.

Woe is me??? Not a chance! Oh sure, there’s a small pity party every once in awhile which is only human.

Now there’s a different spin on it though with stories and lessons not just for me but for all who might happen onto these pages.

For I wasn’t the one who paralyzed my voice for these months. I firmly believe it was God who stilled the words until I could learn the lessons He had in mind for me. Only then did HE give me back my voice. And He’s still got more for me to learn.

I sat outside last night scanning the dark country skies for the remnants of a meteor shower. As I sat gazing up at the heavens, I was overwhelmed by the number of stars in the sky… small pinholes of light that I’ve always thought of as windows to Heaven… a reminder that the greatest of hope and love resides behind those lights. He chose to remind me last night that THAT is my reward with a voice that said “Now go and share it with others so that no matter what the struggles on Earth, they might know. For even in the fluff, I am there.”

May the words of my heart and the meditations of my soul be acceptable in Thy sight!

Finding My Voice Again

Tags

God, Hope, life, Love, Struggle, Thoughts

Over the last 5 months my “voice” has been paralyzed… my heart full of words and thoughts but unable to translate them into a blog post and often unable to voice them to friends and family whose love and ears are always available. I’ve found myself holding things inside, searching for answers along the way that are often not readily found, sometimes going through each day simply by putting one foot in front of the other and being grateful that there is SOME movement. There have been days when I’ve been reminded (sometimes gently and sometimes not) that I am NOT the one in control of the situations I find myself in. The balancing act that I often find myself performing isn’t so sturdy on some days, yet rock solid on others. I’ve learned lessons of humility, feeling ashamed of myself for holding myself slightly away from those whom we’ve learned are TRULY my friends. I’ve cried, I’ve smiled, I’ve fallen down, I’ve gotten up, I’ve struggled, I’ve learned…

And I’m finally finding my voice again. God has promised us that He will use all for the good. I’ve often wondered how on earth my struggles can be for anyone’s good but my own. It’s stilled my “voice”. How can my words be of any value to someone reading them when so many of my thoughts have been born from fear and questioning and lack of hope? Yet I’ve held onto His promise that out of those things will come words of hope and faith and joy and rememberance of the fact that I am not alone, along with the promise that my voice will not be stilled forever…. there is a reason that my voice has been stilled for awhile and it’s not just about me. The struggle and the heartache have held lessons for me but not JUST for me.

The lessons for me aren’t done yet but my vocal paralysis is for now. For now He’s chosen to say that it’s time to share with those known and unknown to me… because it has all not been just for my benefit, but for others whose lives I (through Him) can touch as well

Praise Him!

Body Parts

Tags

Body image, Feet, God, Hands, life, Love, Thoughts

If anyone were to ask you what your least favorite body part or feature was, what would you answer?

You know what I’m talking about… that one body feature that you’d like to hide from the world… the one that in your mind is just too bone-chilling ugly to have any purpose or redemptive value…the one that no one else could POSSIBLY love either because you’re positive that if they caught sight of it, swift flight would be imminent.

Mine would most certainly be my feet. Bunioned, calloused, slightly hammertoed, bent, with some toenails that defy cutting with even a chainsaw. Feet so painful at times that I’m limited to a specific brand of tennis shoes and perhaps an occassional pair of loafers. Sandals and heels??? FORGET ABOUT IT!!! I would rather have my feet encased in concrete and run over by a semi before I’d torture myself that way.

I spent years keeping these feet under wraps. Where others would run barefooted in the house, I ran around in stockinged feet. My recurring nightmare was the scene from Jaws where everyone was running out of the water… but it wasn’t a shark! It was my feet that sent them fleeing for their lives. And though I’m not a personal fan of Bratz dolls, I admit to a bit of envy when I realized that their feet came off and were interchangable. Their feet never hurt or had to be hidden… not so with mine!

The features I like the best? My eyes – the mirrors of my soul, almost incapable of masking what I’m feeling or thinking. They speak volumes about the joy and pain and hurt and laughter and love and lessons learned that are held inside, forever looking upward. My hands – small but strong, skin becoming thinner with age so that the veins are more prominent. There are some wrinkles and a few ages spots beginning to appear. Strong, tender and capable whether they are reaching out to scratch Joker’s back or in answer to someone’s need for help. And my heart – despite the bumps and bruises of life, it’s never lost it’s hope, devotion, committment or love that it takes to get through life. It’s both tough and tender at the same time. And some say it can be seen in my eyes.

There is a certain beauty in the way those 3 “parts” work together every day… seeing what is and should be and working with hands and heart to make it right.

But my feet as part of the equation??? NO WAY Jose!

I wasn’t buying that idea until I happened across Romans 10:15 – As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” All of a sudden I was looking at my feet in a whole different way.

My feet ARE beautiful!!! For they carry me towards what my eyes see so that my heart and hands can do the work in whatever small way possible. This world may have rendered them calloused and worn, but in that there is beauty unsurpassed.

I’ll never look at my feet in the same way again.