decking

We ventured to Frankenmuth today. In Frankenmuth one can find what I am sure is the world's largest Christmas store, Bronners. For 20 years our Christmas tree has been dominated by Disney ornaments. Each with it's own memories of trips to Disneyworld, Disneyland or a child's obsession with a particular movie. As the kids have aged we've supplemented with the traditional kid made ornaments, sports ornaments, dance ornaments and religious ornaments. Last year we had the kids paint their names on ornaments... but nothing felt quite right. Today while visiting Bronners we came upon their international section. It's limited in a typical midwestern way, lots of western European countries well represented, but the entire African continent represented strictly as "Africa", not sure I saw any Asian countries, and virtually no Latin American. We decided that it would be fun to collect ornaments representing each country we have visited. While we weren't able to find ornaments from all the countries, we did find small flags from the remainder. We'll continue to search for the other countries.

When we got home from Bronners I was in the mood to begin decorating our home. As the boxes of ornaments and decorations were brought up from the basement, I couldn't help but begin to sing "Deck the Halls" to myself. Which reminded me of that gigantically fat woman who blocked the entirety of Scandinavia and made me wish I'd been in a decking mood then. I'd politely said excuse me, and she refused to move. I gently pushed on her backpack so to slide behind her and she remained cemented in place. Deck... yes, I thought, I would love to deck right now!

busted!

hilariously, David walked in as I was typing the last entry, thus the abrupt stop. I had a ridiculous time at lunch yesterday. He was on such a tirade. It began with the fact that he had gone to the doctor for a knee problem. It was his first appointment. Before the orthopedic surgeon even saw him a MA came out and told him that he needed an x-ray. He was seated in one of a row of chairs outside the xray room. "It looks like your last xray didn't get the right angle" the MA told him, then wandered off to retrieve another patient from the waiting room. That patient was seated next to David in the row and told "It looks like your last xray didn't get the right angle". This of course raised David's curiosity. When a third person was seated and told the exact same thing David called the MA over. "When was my last xray?" , "October 12", "As in just a month or so ago?", "yes", "I've never been here before", "Oh". The MA leaves. He returns a few moments later to inform David that indeed he had the wrong chart. David then quizzed him on the necessity of having the xray, accused the office of just raking up billable tests and blaming them for the state of our medical establishment. Mid-tirade the xray technician sticks her head out and calls him in. She sheepishly asks if he wants the xray, which he begrudgingly gets. After seeing the doctor it is decided that he needs a cortisone shot, an MRI and a knee brace. After getting the painful cortisone injection which he was told would not hurt, with the prescription for knee brace in hand he leaves the office.

Since he'd had orthotics done a few months ago in Denver he thought he had paid his full deductible for the year on his insurance, and goes confidently to the orthopedic appliance store. There he is told he owes $190. Already irritated by this whole process he calls the insurance company. As he's reviewing with them his expenditures for the calendar year to verify that he has indeed met his deductible he realizes that he has overpaid at the Denver Foot Clinic... and to further annoy him, he knows that he has $120 in unpaid bills at home from the very same clinic. He immediately calls them. After an extensive phone call that includes his wishing them unemployment after the Senate Healthcare Bill passes he is told they will be sending him a $95 refund. And so that is the curmudgeon with whom I had lunch yesterday. A lunch conversation that included his desire to rescind his US citizenship, move to haiti and live off the land. Yes, live off the land... the man who won't weed the garden, eat produce from it for fear of dirt, doesn't eat fish and doesn't hunt. Not sure which land he's planning to live off.

I'm terrible at this

Clearly I am terribly lacking in the self discipline department. I didn't even make it three consecutive days writing. Today David announced that he's taking a promotion at work that will have him at home more often. I have very mixed feelings about this, especially after today. He infringed on my quiet morning time, dragging himself out of bed at 6AM. Then when we had lunch he was on a tirade about everything from his Dr. appointment where he was sure he was being ripped off. to wanting to rescind his US citizenship... ahhhh fun!

day 2

Day 2 of the discipline of writing something every day. I hope to find this cathartic in the long run. Because God knows I need to do something to exorcise the demons. But today it is a chore. Actually almost everything has been a chore lately. I don't feel like going to work, interacting with people, doing chores or even taking a walk. I know that I should just make myself do these things, and I did yesterday. I went out at 6 last night for no reason. I just walked around the local mall. No zest for shopping, but just needed to make myself leave the house.

David and Maddy return today from the soccer tournament. The final of her travel soccer career. We'll have her school spring schedule then college. Hard to imagine.

I often wonder if this is a normal response to the impending empty nest. I feel a bit like I'm flailing around trying to find some meaning. I've known many women who have been miserable at the graduation of their youngest. I don't want to be that caricature. But, I've spent the last 21 years of my life raising kids, chose a marginal career to allow me to be home with them... now my job is done. It sounds weird, but it's hard to even know who I am apart from their mother. What do I like? What is important to me? What can I impact in the world now? Lord, what will happen when I retire? Hmmm... I guess that gives me something to think about.

what to eat

What does a lactose intolerant diabetic with heart disease, a wheat allergy and 2 missing teeth eat? Yep, that's the question of the day. I've put out an APB on my collar bones, because I know that much of this disgusting situation is a direct result of my extra weight. I often wonder where rock bottom is for my alcoholic nephew... cause it's not in jail. But now I have to ask myself the same thing. When will I be at the place where I'd rather live than eat? What about my life or body chemistry makes me seek solace in food? I could blame my parents, that's always fun, after all they raised 2 overweight people and an anorexic. I suspect it's the same disease in a different manifestation. I could blame my metabolism, but I've lost this weight 4 or 5 times in my life. I know that the only real solution is going to be when I take responsibility for my own health. So what does that look like? What does that feel like? What will I substitute emotionally for food? I guess I can adopt the old AA mantra... one day at a time. So day 1 is I will write about my feelings, food and progress toward health. God help me, if this doesn't work I'm going to gain 50 pounds so I can have that surgery... I think that would be easier.

Celebrating my 44th birthday

It was grand planning. Schedule my dentist appointment for my birthday, and there was no way I could forget. I figured I'd get it over with first thing and enjoy the rest of my day. So 8AM was the plan. It seemed like a good idea. I showed up at the dentist's office 15 minutes early. I signed in, grabbed a magazine and sat down to read for what I hoped would be no more than 15 minutes. When the hygienist called me back she asked if I had intentionally scheduled my appointment just 4 months since my last one. No, indeed I had not, and no indeed I did not intend to keep this one! So I skipped out of the office feeling lucky!

My birthday fell on a Monday. Monday is my day off from work, so I returned home from the dentist to do my usual day off routine. Clean the bathrooms, scrub the floors, vacuum and all that fun stuff. After all, if I don't do it, who will? Seriously, that's not a rhetorical question... I really want to know... The answer is simple - no one. But, boy does it feel good to have a clean house, so I did it. Then sat down to relax and check my many birthday wishes on facebook! probably my favorite part of facebook. Otherwise I'd never get 100 birthday wishes!

My 17 year old, Maddy, wandered in at about this time. She asked what my plans were for the day. I had to confess that my plans were "not much". Since David is in Colorado, and my mom had taken me out to dinner the night before, that was an honest answer, but completely unsatisfactory for Maddy. She was convinced that this was indicative of my social depravity and quizzed me on the health of my girlfriend relationships. I began to feel a bit inadequate and started to think it was a bit pathological that I enjoy my own company so much.

She then suggested that we take the dogs to get their nails cut. We decided to go to PetSmart, They can usually get their nails cut there without an appointment. Riley, my 90 pound weimaraner was a beast. He's usually pretty obnoxious in the car, but he went above and beyond, I'm sure in honor of my birthday. He decided that he wanted to drive. He pressed his full weight on Maddy's arm as she attempted to keep him contained in the back seat. He whined and wandered around the back seat. He laid his head on my shoulder and cried into my ear. when we arrived at Petsmart he pulled so hard that Maddy had to make him sit several times between the car and the door of the store. Meanwhile, Reggie, my 5 pound toy rat terrier pranced his way to the front door while I held his leash. Reggie and I proceeded to the salon in the back of the store. As we went through the door, Reggie realized his fate and decided to make a run for it. I looked down to find the door had closed on his neck as his body was the only part visible from my side of the door. I gave a moment's thought to leaving him there to suffer the consequences of his decision, but thought better of it and freed him. I turned him over to the groomers just as Riley and Maddy made their way to the salon.

Riley willingly jumped onto the groomers table. let them noose him, but when he saw the nail clippers, his cooperative spirit left. He attempted to jump off the table, leaving himself hanging off the side, pathetically looking at me as if I had betrayed him. It required two gromers to put him back on the table. Seeing the look of disgust on their face Maddy and I left the salon. We thought, or at least hoped, this may help him be more cooperative. We went around the corner of an aisle and peeked to see how he was doing. He continued to flail his 90 pound frame against the tiny female groomer forcing her to ask for assistance from 2 additional groomers. When I returned to pick them up, The groomer was in a full blown sweat, she all but threw Riley at me, and then proceeded to charge me $3 more than usual. I paid without protest and left ashamed of Riley's poor upbringing.

I dropped Maddy and the dogs off at home and went to mail a package to Emily. I stopped and Walgreens and picked up some oreos and ritz crackers, Burt's Bees lip gloss and blond hair dye. Apparently all these things are in short supply in Gabarone Botswana. I packed them into a box and headed to the post office. The road to the post office is under construction and I was forced to go about 3 miles out of my way to get the detour. Upon arriving at the post office, they had redirected the traffic flow into the parking lot and I found myself going the wrong way.. The man in the SUV trying to use the road in the correct direction wasn't impressed with my ignorance. I backed out, went into the previous exit and found a parking space. When got in line, my phone rang. I answered it to find it was my brother. I stepped out of line, because it was impossible to talk to him, fill out the customs form, balance the box and not disturb the 10 other patrons in line. I went to the lobby and completed a customs form, and finished packing and taping my box. While I did this, I could see people walking in and getting in line, but didn't take much note. When I finished my phone call, I got back into line. I soon discovered that 2 clerks had been working, but one was clearly leaving as she proceeded to count her cash drawer. I glanced down the counter to the other clerk, just checking his efficiency. I noted that the customer he was serving had several boxes to ship. I began to count them... 44. Ironic, my 44th birthday and the man had 44 boxes. Another clerk came and opened her station, so the line began to move. It was only seconds after she did so that she announced to all of us in line that the debit/credit machine was not working. I pulled out my wallet to see if I had adequate cash. $12, I doubted it. Someone in line asked if they accepted checks. They do. I stayed in line. When I finally got to the counter, I had a notebook with me which included all Emily's identifying information; her rechargeable visa number, her passport number, her address, etc... I gave the clerk the address, she informed me that I had filled out the wrong customs form. I stepped aside to fill out the other form,. When I finally got it right, the cost was $42 to mail it. I wrote a check and got out of there 45 minutes after I had arrived.

I returned home briefly before Maddy needed to attend a meeting at her school. Dinner was served as part of the meeting, so I was on my own for dinner. I thought I should probably eat some of the bounty from my garden, however was craving Mexican food, always a favorite for me! I decided to take myself to dinner at the local Mexican restaurant. "table for one, please". "would you like a margarita?"... well, it was my birthday, so I ordered the most expensive margarita on the menu. a $10 margarita. It came in a tall narrow glass and looked quite delicious. Unfortunately it wasn't. I'm not that fond of alcohol and the drink was tooooo strong. I don't hold my alcohol well, and as I said, the drink was tooooo strong. As I drank my margarita and ate my dinner, it became apparent to me that driving would not be a good decision. I contemplated the possibility of walking home. It's only about 2 miles, the weather was warm, but pleasant. I didn't really have on good shoes for walking, but... At the last minute, Maddy called and said she was almost home from her meeting. I asked her to join me at the restaurant. I asked her if she wanted to go school clothes shopping, and if she could drive. I would just plan to pick up my car after shopping. she laughed and complied.

While shopping a 7 year old child I know from church came to the store. He spotted me as he walked down the center aisle of the department store. He showed me his loose tooth while I stayed at a distance that I hoped would not permit him or his father to note my muted senses and tequila breath. While Maddy tried on clothes, I sat on a chair outside the dressing room, trying to stay awake. After about an hour, I felt clear-headed enough to go back to my car. Maddy dropped me off there and we both drove home.

We watched an hour or so of NCIS and I got up to prepare for bed. As I did so, I asked Maddy to let the dogs out for one final time before bed. I was midway through putting my pajamas on when I heard Maddy yell "Mom! Mom!". I stuck my head out of my bedroom door and yelled, "are you calling me?" "yes, something's wrong with Riley". I threw my pajamas on and ran for the door. As soon as I left my bedroom an overwhelming chemical odor scorched my nostrils. "It smells like something is burning", said Maddy. As the scent dissipated, it became clear that it was the familiar odor of skunk. Riley's eyes were red and burning, as he ran through the house rubbing his face on all carpets and furniture. Thus began the attempt to confine the 90 pound hyperactive weimaraner and keep him from polluting any additional furnishings. We herded him into the bathroom then looked up the best recipe for deskunking a dog. Peroxide, Dawn, baking soda and lemon juice. Maddy wrestled him into the tub and held his head as I attempted to wash his face and eyes. Three baths later I had used about 3/4 of the solution and most of the odor was gone from the dog. I used the 2 bottles of Febreze that I had in the house and a can of Oust. I opened the windows and turned on the attic fan, hoping to air the house out as much as possible.

I then retired to bed and laughed myself to sleep thinking about the glamorous life I live. Little did I know that I would experience a groundhog day moment at 4:30 the next morning, and have the chance to use the rest of the de-skunking solution.

through the wringer

I guess you could say it's been one of those days! I guess I should have known when I was awakened at 3:15 with a migraine headache. But I was oblivious to the roller coaster that the day held for me. My husband, David left for Colorado today. He'll be gone for about a month. I'm accustomed to these types of trips, so under normal circumstances it wouldn't make a dent in my psyche. But today was not normal. David was taking Andrew, a young man whom I had encouraged David to hire, with him on this trip. Andrew was supposed to be at our house at 6:45 to share a car with David to the airport. He was 1/2 an hour late. I was disappointed and know that Andrew has perhaps "shot himself in the foot" as far as this job is concerned. I wish that wasn't so. He needs this job, but I can't control that.

About 9:30 this morning I received a call from my brother Dan. He lives in California and rarely calls. I was fearful when told it was him on the phone. He blessed my day with the good news that he and his wife are expecting their third child. The day was looking up.

About an hour later my mother came into my office. Also, someone who doesn't usually visit my office unless there's something wrong. I could see on her face immediately that something was wrong. then she told me that my 18 year old niece is pregnant. I held her while she cried. We talked and encouraged each other. She left me feeling like it was going to be ok and our family could and would rally. While my mother was in my office a friend and her children came in. They moved to China 6 months ago, and are in town for just a few days. I had seen Rebecca yesterday and had a wonderful brunch, but her 4 year old ran in, gave me a giant hug and told me how much she had missed me. It warmed my heart. After my mom left I joined the Rebecca's kids in the nursery and we played for an hour or so, then they left. I won't see them again for 6-12 months.

Shortly after lunch I was in the restroom and there was a woman visibly upset. She spent an hour or so in my office. I was unable to make her feel better about the things that upset her. When she left I felt powerless and sad.

Then I was off to the nursing home to see my grandmother. She was highly confused today. She thought I was there early in the morning. She asked me about people whom I do not know. She thought it was winter and wanted to know where her coat was.

I feel like I said good-bye to so much today. Good bye David. Good bye Rebecca. Good bye Andrew. Good bye Granny. Good bye to my niece's childhood. I feel like so much is unresolved. But this day was spiced with the good news of 2 new babies joining our family. This day had me relying on co-workers for mental and emotional support. This day reminded me of the beauty of my job. The people.

Today I cry out for a boring tomorrow! Please let it be!

Happy Birthday Dad

It was his 43rd birthday. 1987. He was living in Orange County CA and I was a student at Michigan State University. He rarely ever called me and I realized I hadn't heard from him in a while and of course realized it was his birthday, so I called him at his office.

When his secretary answered the phone and I asked for him, she first said he wasn't there. I made a casual joke about him taking his birthday off and then she told me that he no longer worked there. He had worked there for as long as I could remember. Perhaps for as long as I had been alive, 20 years or more... I called his home. The number was disconnected.

My parents had been working on a divorce for about 3 years. It had been ugly and filled with accusations, mostly my mother accusing him, and probably mostly true. I didn't want to ask my mom if she knew anything, because I didn't feel like I wanted to hear her go on a tirade. I thought he'd resurface in a week or two. Surely he'd call.

It was several weeks before I finally asked my mom if she knew anything about his whereabouts. She said he'd been served papers for back child support and he'd skipped out. she said he loved his money more than his kids. She said he'd been served with the final divorce papers. She also said that my younger brother Dan, who had lived with him, was now living with his girlfriend. I called Dan.

"Dad decided to sail around the world", was the answer to my question. I wondered why he hadn't told me. I wondered why now. I wondered when I'd hear from him again? I wondered if he was a good enough sailor for such a trip. I wondered for years. I didn't hear from him again for over 4 year.

Happy 65th birthday Dad.

In love

It's true that I fall in love often. when I was younger I inherently disliked people. I think that I believed on some level that I was always in competition with others. Maybe that's rooted in the fact that I was raised in a family of 4 kids, by parents who probably should not have had children. They weren't evil or cruel parents, they were simply young and self-centered. They were in over their heads and spent most of our childhood putting out fires, rather than cultivating our well-being. Their marriage was a mess all along, so their needs weren't met. As I've discovered as an adult, when I am lacking I am unable to give to my loved ones. That fight for yourself drive has served me well in many ways, and I am thankful for that, but the drawback is that I had a tendency to see others as competitors.

A typical introduction would include my sizing up whether the new person was more intelligent, attractive or skilled than I was. I was quit adept at finding other's flaws, then discounting their personal value. Then I hit bottom.

I found that I had become the most reprehensible of people. I was fat, dependent, ill and weak. I was depressed, broken and angry. I struggled to find a reason for my existence. I had always been led to believe that I was only as valuable as my contribution to the world. I had nothing to contribute. I had no value. Then the switch flipped.

I believe it was God that lightened my heart. But understand that I God was present in my therapist. God was present in my friends. God was present in my husband and kids. The switch flipped and I realized that although there was little I could change about my circumstances I was fully empowered to change the way I experienced and responded to them. I had an overwhelming feeling of being beloved. It passed, but I practiced bringing it back. I prayed, meditated, did positive self-talk. I decided to be oblivious. I quit analyzing others and strove to accept all things at face value - even when I was confident that there was an underlying current. I ignored it and appreciated the positive things in all encounters. I soon began to believe my own rhetoric. I began to see the good in all people. I wasn't blind to flaws, others or my own, but I didn't let them become the defining attributes. I slowly began to fall in love with people.

I love the crazy, stupid things we do. I love the egregious flaws we all carry. I love the courage with which we are willing to fail. I love the hope that lives beyond reason.

long good-byes

How do you want to die? I'm not sure why I wondered this as a kid and young adult, but I remember having conversations with numerous people that included me asking them this. Invariably the answer was almost always "die quickly, painlessly in my sleep". I wanted to be oblivious to the fact that my life was ending. I wanted to ignore the reality of my own mortality. I no longer wish for this. Of course I'd like to die painlessly. I'm too big a coward to want anything less. However, I think I'd like notification of it's approach. Maybe this attitude has changed because I've aged and have no delusions about my own mortality. Maybe it's changed because I fear that I'll die with too much unfinished business. Maybe it's changed because my to-do list is so long and I'd hate to die without completing it. As a matter of fact, I have a pact with a friend that when I die, she'll come in and clean my pig sty of a home before the funeral home even gets here. Perhaps my attitude has changed simply because I want to be able to give her advance notice! Whatever the reason, I know it has changed. I have had the privilege of knowing and loving several people who have died while in the care of hospice. Perhaps those experiences have helped me to see the beauty in a long good-bye. I've watched as they reminded family and friends of the deep love they shared. I've been blessed by shared laughs and memories exchanged for the last time. I treasure those memories near the end, when I was able to be at a bedside and hold a hand, kiss a forehead, say a prayer. Sometimes just sitting quietly next to a bed reading a book, while my friend slept. There is something holy in those moments. I no longer want to protect my loved ones from those moments. Rather, I hope for them that they will have an opportunity to be in such sacred moments. I hope that I have the courage to say and do those things that will allow me to die in peace. I certainly try to be courageous and brave in my graciousness and forgiveness now. I try to proactively keep regrets and grudges out of my life. But daily they seem to come and go and I know that regardless of how hard I try, if I die without warning I will leave with some unfinished business. Perhaps that's my new delusion that, with appropriate warning I can die without regrets...

reflections on my father

My dad's birthday is July 24. This will be the second birthday since he died. I suppose if we'd had a normal relationship, this would be a more momentous date, but I saw my dad only 3 times in the last 20 years of his life. His choice, not mine. I expected I'd have a sense of unfinished business when he died. I wonder if there is something wrong with me because I don't. 

He was a good dad while he was around. I felt like he loved me, the best he could. I believed that he was proud of me. I don't know why he looked at me and my 3 siblings and decided to walk away. There was a time when I asked that question, but long ago I realized that it was unanswerable. 

Today I thank God for the Dad that I had. I pray that his soul is at peace in death, in a way that he never seemed to be in life. 

Redemption

I'm struggling today to find hope amidst desperation. I want to cry out from the Psalms "Why have you forsaken me?" though I cry out not for myself, but rather for others. I feel gratefully guilty for the ease with which I live my life. Yet I feel the weight in my chest that I recognize as grief. I wish that I was the kind of person who could ignore the suffering around me. I wish that strictly out of selfishness. I have no respect for the people I know who are capable of this, yet I envy their ignorance.

Help me find hope in the fact that a healthy 26 year old gets drunk and jumps out of a moving vehicle. Help me find hope in the addiction of a smart, robust 21 year old man. Help me find hope in a mother and son together in hospice care. Help me find hope in alzheimer's disease slowly eating away the memories. Help me find hope in an 8 year old with incurable cancer and painful side effects of treatment. Help me find hope in the life of a 6 year old with brain injury so devastating he'll never walk nor talk.

I take a  deep breath. I remind myself of previous losses. I remember the death of friends and the beauty of the lessons that the end of their lives offered. I remember visits in the ICU where the stillness of the moments felt sacred. I remember my need to be humbled before I could be redeemed. I guess this is where faith comes into the picture. I wait, I trust, I hope that redemption will arrive

At this moment

The time now is just after 8PM. I sit in my family room, propped on my couch with a pillow behind my back and my feet on the coffee table. My tiny new apple notebook sits on my lap. I am wearing a long sleeved, short red night shirt with Victoria's Secret embroidered on the front and a pair of my husbands boxers. My feet, legs and back ache. My hair is wet from a shower completed about an our ago. My face, hands and feet are coated in various lotions of mild perfume. 

My 90 lb weimaraner and 5 pound rat terrier sit on a bench beneath one of the large windows. The tan broadcloth curtains are pulled open enough for Riley, the weimaraner to observe all that goes on in the back yard. The stuffed to duck, which has been eviscerated by the dogs, lies on the bench, wedged up against the wall. A neon orange flea comb sits in the center of the left half of the bench.

The television, which is showing "The Matrix" its atop a three shelf pine unit. On the top shelf is the AT&T U-Verse box, with 2 white Wii game cases on top of it. Next to the box is a clear plastic container that holds 4 Wii controllers, a few papers seem to have found a default residence next to them.

On the middle shelf is the DVD/VCR player. An orange light flasher on the interface next to a solid orange light. The word disc is visible in the display. On top of the player is the Wii fit board. beside these two is the Wii console. 

On the bottom shelf a dozen or so DVd cases lay tipped over onto a small stack of CDs. Next to the CDs is a wire mesh crate that appears to house other CDs. the wires from teh many electronics protrude to the left of the book shelf. 

Life is so cluttered with these details it is easy to lose track of what is important. Today I relish in the thought that I have what I need. I find joy in the garden I hoed this afternoon. I am proud of the job I performed today with a level of skill. I enjoyed a quiet dinner from the garden with my 17 year old daughter. I laughed at the inch worm I apparently brought in on the salad greens. I am blessed.

Waiting patiently

Surgery was today. Granny was finally scheduled for surgery, after breaking her hip/leg on Monday. She's been in the hospital since about noon on Monday. No treatments, just pain management all day Monday and Tuesday. Finally today they decided she was well enough for the surgery. She was scheduled for noon surgery. she was taken to pre-op about noon, and into surgery at 1pm. We were told it would be about 45 minutes for surgery, then a couple hours in recovery before returning to her room. 

About 2:30 the surgeons came to tell us that she had successfully made it through surgery. They had successfully reattached the ball on her femur with a metal plate and 3 screws. The recovery room would page us when she was ready for a visitor. According to the doctors it should be within the hour. 

At 5 minutes before 4, the clerk in the recovery room turned off the lights and left. My sister checked her watch and noted that the she, the clerk, had skipped out a little early. She was the woman who had given us the pager, and we wondered amongst ourselves who we would turn the pager into when we were paged. Then we continued to wait. Law and Order came on the tv and we settled into the story line. 

At the first commercial break we commented that it was surprising we hadn't heard. By 4:15 the anxiety was starting to rise, wondering why she wasn't ready for visitors yet. At 4:30 the question in my mind was whether something had gone wrong in recovery. At 4:45 my aunt was curled in a ball on a recliner, commenting that she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was going on. My sister said she was going to go to the recovery room at 5, if they hadn't come out. My mother questioned whether everyone had gone home and left Granny there by herself. I grabbed the pager and headed down the hall to recovery.

When I went through the doors marked "Do Not Enter" I saw a small desk, surrounded by about a dozen beds each enclosed with a curtain. No one was at the desk no visible bed was occupied. I walked around each corner looking behind curtains, finding each bed vacated. Not a soul was in the ward.

I walked back to the waiting room and told them what I had found. We grabbed our belongings, dropped the pager at the locked up clerk's window and headed for the elevator hoping that she was returned to her room. Each harboring a small fear that she might not be there. 

We took the elevator to the third floor, found her room and there she slept. Soundly in her room. Tiny Granny, 4 feet 10 inches and 90 pounds barely made a mound on the bed. Her eyes were closed peacefully and her mouth hung open, oblivious to the ruckus her disappearance had caused. Sleep peacefully tonight Granny.

When to sign a DNR

Yesterday Granny fell. Granny is my 85 year old grandmother. She has the beginnings of Alzheimer's disease, mild high blood pressure and stenosis of the neck. Relatively healthy for an 85 year old. She lives with my Aunt.

Part of Granny's personality is that she is very anxious. She has a strong belief in "Everything in its place". So while my Aunt maintains a beautiful home, my Granny thinks she needs to be constantly helping to clean up. A particular point of contention is the cats' litter boxes. Understand that one of Granny's anxieties is about the safety of the cats. She keeps them locked safely in her room, thus requiring that the litter boxes be in there. So, though my Aunt has told her a million times that she will clean the litter boxes, if Granny wakes before my Aunt, she will clean the litter boxes. That in and of itself is not the real problem. The real problem arises when Granny goes to take the litter out to the garbage. She opens her bedroom door, with bag in hand, failing to close the door behind her, thus allowing the cats to escape into the house. When Granny opens the door to the garage, the cats run out. Granny panics and runs out after them, without her cane, and in a panic. 

Yesterday morning my Aunt had a Dr. appointment at 9AM. My Aunt rarely leaves Granny alone, but it should have been a brief Dr. appointment and the dangerous cat litter routine had taken place. Unfortunately after my Aunt left the home, Granny claims that someone came and opened her door and the cats got out, into the house. No one else was in the home. She then opened the house door to the outside, I suppose to check and see if the cats had gotten outside. She walked out, down the stone steps and fell in the driveway. 

My Aunt returned home about 2 hours after leaving. Granny was in the driveway screaming for help, unable to walk or get up herself. She had broken her hip and cut her arm. We spent the day yesterday at the hospital. She'll have surgery today. The attending physician asked how we would want them to respond if she coded. We hadn't discussed it previously. Granny seems to have a decent quality of life still, but she does have some medical issues. I'm not sure if she has the ability to decide for herself what she would want. I only know that they can do a full code ( I think that's what the Dr called it) where all measures are to be taken and that's the default; or they can do a DNR (no measures to be taken if her heart stops). We went with the default, but it leaves me wondering this morning, if there's something in between. I guess that's a question we'll have to ask today. 

independence day

For the last 20+ years my primary goal has been to raise strong, bold and independent daughters. I am rapidly facing the reality of that goal, and realizing that while in their best interest, it certainly makes my life more challenging. 

I think when they were younger it made my job easier. They were the first to be able to buckle their own seat belts. They were never afraid to be home alone after school in middle school. They never feared alienating friends in high school, so I never worried about the peer pressure. Now the hard part.

At 17 my daughter Maddy will be embarking on her first solo trip to Europe. She will be visiting our foreign exchange daughter Natalie who just returned home. Maddy will have to go through customs in Amsterdam, and get her connecting flight to Hamburg all on her own. Her cell phone won't work there and she'll have no way to contact me or Natalie if she misses her flight. Ugh, this is the kind of thing that makes me lose sleep. She needs to return to school for her senior year this fall with a list of colleges to which she'd like to apply. She's looking at colleges through out the U.S. including Arkansas, North Carolina and much more. Michigan has many good schools, certainly Ohio is full of them, but she has no doubts regarding her ability to live that far away, so why do I. While I envy her fearlessness, it creates anxiety for me. 

At 20 my daughter Emily is preparing for a 6 month adventure in Botswana. She will travel alone to the University of Botswana to study. We recently went to the travel clinic to get the necessary shots. Talk about anxiety! Day time mosquitos have dengue something, night time mosquitos have malaria, mammals have rabies; yellow fever, typhoid, etc... She'll be the first woman to go from K-college and there are special concerns related to that. I know that this will be a wonderful experience for her and wish that I had been so brave at her age, heck wish that I was that brave at my age.

I guess this is a lesson on "you better watch what you wish for". 

Saying good-bye

Natalie has lived with my family since August of 2008, but today she will return to her family in Germany. She has spent the past week saying good-bye to all her new friends here. This long and painful process began last Saturday and her final good-bye will be today at the airport when she says good-bye to me.

I have really enjoyed having Natalie here. She's been a blessing to our family in so many ways. We have hosted many young people in our home. Natasha from Russia for a month the summer of 2001. Sarah from Germany for the 2001/2002 school year. Hannie from Ghana for the 2003/2004 school year. Svenja from Switzerland for the 2004/2005 school year. Gina from the USA from Oct 2005 - Dec 2006. Eszter from Hungary for August to December 2007. Throw in a few shorter term foster kids and you have the picture of the revolving door that is our home.

All these experiences have offered high points and low. Most have been good experiences overall, but some girls have left indelible marks on our lives. When I leave Natalie at the TSA security check point at the airport today, I will feel as if I am leaving a part of my family. While experience tells me that she will remain a part of my family, regardless of where she lives, I will miss her daily presence in my life.

Natalie has been a great friend to Maddy. Embracing Maddy's quirks and moods, ignoring her messiness in their shared bathroom, they have become sisters. Natalie has been a great sparring partner for David. When he tries to incite an argument, and the rest of his pretend we can't be bated, she's eager to engage him. For me Natalie is a reliable, steady presence. She's always eager to talk, open with her feelings and willing to help. 

 I can put her on an airplane today, but I won't remove her from my heart or my family. I trust that she will return. Her role in the family will be different, but no less important. Today I will focus on how her parents, who haven't seen her for 10 months are feeling. I will celebrate for the people who have so graciously shared their daughter with my family.

Getting peed on

While I have two daughters and they are the pride and joy of my life, I also have two dogs and they are the humor in my life. Riley is a 90 pound Wiemaraner. He is a beautiful shade of grey, with haunting light blue eyes. He is rather obtuse, oblivious to the existence of any other creatures in the house, including humans. Reggie is a 5 pound toy rat terrier. Reggie is a tiny chocolate colored dog with large stand-up ears. He is often mistaken for a chihuahua, but his legs are longer and his body leaner than any chihuahua I've seen.  I maintain his face looks as much like a bat as it does a dog. 

You can imagine the attention they attract when we walk them together. Few people can pass without commenting on them. A recent problem has developed as these two young males have decided they want to leave their mark on every tree, shrub and rock that we pass on walks. When Riley decides he has sniffed out the perfect place to lift his leg, Reggie thinks he had better race him in to mark the spot first. This most often results in Reggie getting peed on, unless the human walking them prevents it.

On a recent summer evening my 20 year old daughter, Emily was walking the dog and Reggie was indeed marked by Riley. When she returned from the walk, she decided to give both dogs a bath. Neither dog is particularly fond of baths, but are quite fond of treats. You can usually get them to come to you and cease whatever they are doing,  by simply shouting "Who wants a treat?" So, Emily grabbed a couple treats and went to the bathroom and shouted "Who wants a treat?" Both dogs came running. Emily grabbed up Reggie and attempted to close the door behind Riley. But Riley recognized what was happening and without even taking his treat ran out the door and to his crate. 

In our house, the dogs' crates are their homes. It's a safe haven, and Riley at almost 2 years old, has learned this lesson well. The door to his crate was closed, so he barked and stared, barked and stared until I came and opened the door for him. There he sat, in his crate for the entire time that Reggie got his bath. 

When Reggie gets out of the bath he runs madly through the house in fits and starts, madly throwing himself against all surfaces to dry off: carpets, furniture, legs, even toys. When Reggie's drying tour led him into the room where Riley sat safely in his crate, Riley realized that his sibling rivalry was stronger than his aversion to baths. Indeed, he did not want Reggie to have anything he didn't have. He pushed ope the door to his crate, walked into the bathroom, climbed into the tub and barked until my daughter came in and gave him a bath. At least I got two clean dogs out of the deal.

It's easier to give than to receive

I was always told as a child that it's better to give than to receive. I guess I bought into that because I've been known to give to the point of resentment - mine, not the receivers. Anyway, today at staff meeting we talked about learning how to become a receiver.  I know my parents taught me it was better to give than to receive, but they failed to recognize the danger inherent in the fact that being a giver inflates my sense of power.

We talked about the text in the Bible when Jesus washes the feet of the disciples. John 13:3-8 "Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 'You will never wash my feet.' Jesus answered, 'unless I wash you, you have no share with me.'

I have been in services of foot washing and can completely relate to Simon Peter's reaction. I am entirely comfortable washing someone else's feet, regardless of how dirty the feet, how well I know the person, or any other circumstance. But I am extremely uncomfortable when someone kneels before me prepared to serve. The better I know that person, the more uncomfortable I am. while thinking about this today, it became apparent to me that it was because I don't like to admit a need. I don't like to be vulnerable. I don't like to feel dependent on anyone.

I know that I am guilty of being arrogant. I know that I can be quite snobby about many things. I know that I have problems trusting other people and fear being disappointed. I am certain that this all comes from my need to feel superior, my need to think that I know my needs, my need to maintain power. 

Jesus admonishes "Unless I was you, you have no share with me". Until I am willing to humble myself and admit my powerlessness, admit that I need Christ's saving grace in my life I won't be able to fully have a share in his mercy. So my goal du jour is to try and remind myself of many ways that God has blessed my life. I will strive to not just know, but believe that all I have is by the blessed generosity of God, and that without him I am nothing.