With a heavy heart, I write . . .

For the past nine and one-half years, I have enjoyed the companionship and antics of my precious feline daughter, Phoebe.  I knew she was not in good health - overweight and all that go with that - but thought she had a few more months, hopefully years, to entertain her canine brother, Hershel, and me.  I was wrong. 

On January 18, about 10:30 P.M., she had a seizure and died in my arms.  Everything was going as normal until bedtime.  I put her out to potty; she didn’t come right back in, so I went to get her.  She was laying on her side on the garage floor (She normally laid flat on her belly.)  I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and, as I laid her down, noticed she was gasping for breath and started to slobber.  I started talking to her and sat down, holding her.  Within five minutes, she had the seizure and was gone in less than a minute.  Hershel was already asleep on the bed and didn’t see this tragedy.  

Phoebe and Hershel loved each other, snuggled with each other, slept beside each other, and took care

of each other.  I enjoyed watching them and took many, many pictures of them “telling secrets” and grooming each other.  As much as I grieve over the lost of my sweet cat, Hershel is grieving as much, if not more.  I understand what has happened, but I don’t know how to get him to understand.  It breaks my heart every time he searches for her and then lays down and looks at me with his big brown eyes full of sadness. 

Three weeks have passed since that night, and the pain has gotten easier, and Hershel has days that are somewhat back to normal.  We both still miss our sweet girl.  Hershel and I received sympathy and condolence cards from a neighbor and the staff of the veterinary where they both get their checkups and many well wishes on Facebook.  I appreciate their understanding of how we feel after the loss of “just a pet.”  Pets become our children.   

I have lost several cats, dogs, fish, and birds in my life.  Each one was special.  They cannot be replaced.  Another pet just opens a new space in my heart and fills it with more love.  

So, it is with a heavy heart, that I write this memorial to Phoebe.  She will never be forgotten.  She will always be in our hearts.

Conflicted - what to do?

I am conflicted and have been for some time.  While I believe in the right of every LEGAL citizen to have freedom of all sorts except those that cause harm to others, I am struggling with rulings and laws that allow those who are out to gain freedoms for themselves and take mine away.  I am speaking of those freedoms that I consider as a slam against my Christian and moral beliefs.  The ones that have won those freedoms tend to be “in your face,” daring us to say anything.  Yet they moan, groan, and criticize when I take a stand in regards to my faith and  protection of my freedoms, claiming I am not “tolerant.”  Are they being tolerant toward me?  I don’t think so!

It seems that every day there is another news report that assaults my Christian faith. I can withstand attacks against myself, but the things I am referring to are things that my grandchildren have to deal with not only today but in the future.  They already have become conditioned to not even blink at things that my generation thought improper to talk about in public.  There are things accepted as the norm today that we were too horrified to even whisper about.  These things are out there, in the public media, every day.

As I said before, I am conflicted and struggling with how to deal with these things.  I love the USA, but I don’t love what is happening in today’s society.  Where could I, and others with the same feelings, go that would afford me the same privileges and freedoms I enjoy but still eliminate the things I don’t like?  No where!  So, what am I to do?  The answer lies in continuing to take a stand, encourage, support, and vote for candidates whose lives exhibit (not just say) the values I hold dear, and most of all - PRAY!

Happy But Also Sad

I don’t know if I’m being smart to share this or not, but I’m going to.   Phoebe has been sedentary for the last few years and has gotten obese.  Based on she not wanting to be touched and biting, scratching, and clawing when she was, I believe this was due to an injury she must have received to her back/hip area.  I have decided this has caused her to get arthritis, making it difficult and painful for her to move around a lot. 

I started giving her vitamins and glucosamine about a month ago.  Since then, there has been noticeable improvement in her.  She is playing with her canine brother, Hershel, again.  She is even back to “hunting” just as cats do.  I found Blue Jay feathers spread over the yard a few days ago; then a couple of days ago, I found a dead Carolina Wren laying beside my van.  This morning, I was “gifted” with another one in the kitchen floor when I got up. 

Part of me is sorry and upset she is killing these birds, especially since they have been nesting in the garage and their singing has been driving me crazy.  The other part of me is happy she is feeling better and active again.  She’s still overweight, but I’ve noticed a decreased stomach and waddling going on. 

In the end, I can't be upset with her for doing just what her God given nature is. 

God is sooooo good!

God is sooooo good!  Normally, on this February Friday morning, I would have been up and on the way to Memphis for a Historical Foundation Board meeting by 6:00 AM.  A couple of weeks ago, events caused this meeting to be canceled.  This morning, I got up about 6:15, went outside to take a couple of beautiful pictures of the sky, then sat down to check messages. 

Everything seemed normal.  A little over an hour later, I started noticing a smell that seem to be something getting hot.  Smoke alarm wasn’t going off and I didn’t notice a smoky look, but that smell - unmistakenly electrical - was getting worse.  I finally traced it down to the central heat and air return air vent.  Checked the thermostat, heat indicator on and running, but fan didn’t seem to be coming on.  Turned off thermostat, still heard sound of fan trying to come one.  Flipped circuit breaker and started making calls. 

Was relieved by the sight of a wonderful man arriving less than hour later.  He checked unit outside and found the bearings had burned out.  He is now on the way to find me another motor and I should have heat again before night. 

Thankfully, we are having warmer temperatures today (even though they are not up to average) than the last few weeks and next week is being forecast to again be below average.  If it were one of those days we didn't get out of the teens, I would be having to find a place to go for the next few hours. 

All those things show how God works, but the most important part for me is that if I had gone to Memphis, I probably would not have had a house standing when I returned. 

Now, don’t you agree, God is good all the time???

Father's Day Tribute 2013

 Lubie Lynn Bedwell 1951

In the past I have praised my husband, my son, and my son-in-love on Father’s Day. This year, I am going to praise my grandfather.

When I was three years old, my biological father decided he no longer wanted to be bothered with me or my mother and disappeared from our lives as well as those of his parents. Her father immediately stepped in and took over the vacated role. I was raised as Mother’s much younger sister. I knew the difference in my head, but not my heart. As a toddler I had named him “Bangdaddy” and he was, and will be, known as that by all my friends, the family, the entire community, and me for eternity. He was a kind and gentle man with a strength of character that would have rivaled Superman. How he survived in a house full of females, I never have understood. Even all the pets except for one parakeet were female. I guess his way of coping with all of us in his “leisure” time was his Masonic/Shrine obligations and church work. He was so well respected that at the age of 88, he was asked to return to the Board of Deacons to fill out an unexpired term of one of his friends that had died. The others were disappointed when he refused even an honorary title. Even at the age of 91, and even though he was tired physically and ready to join my grandmother, it seemed to us that his life was cut way too short.

There was never a doubt to anyone who knew him that my mother, I, and my children were the light of his life, only second place to God.

I could continue to extol his virtues and love for others for a long time, but, because the entire World Wide Web cannot hold all the good things he did in his lifetime, I will stop by saying “Happy Father’s Day to Lubie Lynn Bedwell. I wish you were here. I miss your unconditional love and acceptance.”

Driver, Deer, Dog, Neighbor, or Problem Solver?

A few nights ago, a friend told me about a situation that nearly broke my heart.  You see, she lives along a minor highway in a rural area where wildlife is frequently active.  Two days ago a woman hit a deer in front of her elderly next door neighbor’s house.  Because the deer was laying in the roadway and blocking traffic, a couple of the neighbors pulled the deer into a ditch.  My friend called the county authorities to inform them there was a carcass and it could be picked up by the proper agency.  Since night was approaching, no one came that afternoon.

The next morning, the deer was still there, but seemed to be in a different position.  My friend’s mother thought she noticed the deer’s ears twitching.  Before long, a large neighborhood dog, a German Shepherd type, came up and starting chewing on the deer.  Each time the dog would bite, the deer would kick.  The deer was still alive! 

Another phone call was made, informing the Highway Department this was not a carcass, but a living deer that was being eaten alive by a dog, and would probably not survive.

About an hour or so later, a few agency representatives gathered at the scene.  The dog became aggressive; when the men tried to pick up the deer, the dog would try to protect his find.  They finally ran the dog off and prepared to remove the deer, but every time they tried to pick it up, they would be kicked.  What to do?  The decision was made to shoot the deer.  Crack - one shot.   The deer still did not die.  Time seemed to stand still while they waited.  Another shot was taken.  Still alive.  It took at least 15 minutes or more for the deer to finally succumb to all the injuries - being hit and run over by a car, laying in a wet, cold ditch all night, having a dog try to make a meal out of him, and being shot twice with bullets. 

As she told me, we both were disturbed thinking about all the pain that beautiful animal had to feel as well as the mental anguish that had to have taken place.  My heart still breaks for what that deer must have gone through for many hours, but then, I know the pain for the deer is now over.  Those who have participated in this tragedy have moved on, but the memory probably will remain for a long time.

Thinking about this episode during the night, I realized many times I have experienced similar issues with my behavior.  Which of these actors in the scene was I most like?  The driver of the car who, even though was unable to avoid the deer, still was responsible for injury to another living being?  The deer - knocked down by life events, not dead yet, but still unable to pull through?  The neighbors - not able to make the situation right, but exercising a little effort to find someone who would help?  The dog - constantly being a tormentor to the weak and helpless?  Maybe the animal control person, or the law enforcement officer - sizing up the situation, discussing the possibilities, and then taking the needed action repeatedly until successful? 

I must admit I have probably played all parts at different times.  I suspect I have been in the role of the driver many times - unintentionally and unable to avoid inflicting injury.  I know I have been like the deer - going about my life, not paying attention to the risk I was placing myself in, and venturing into the direct path of the oncoming danger.  I would hope I would be in the role of the neighbors - helping with whatever resources that would be available.  I regret I could have ever been in the role of the dog - adding to the torment of the injured.  The thought of having to be the law enforcement person, although needed and vital to have solved this situation, would be the most difficult role to play. 

I think about times when I have been knocked down by life; I would be almost lifeless and ineffective - almost as useless as a corpse.  After a time, I would do my best to get back on my feet, but most times the struggle would be wasted because I could not recover on my own.  Then something or someone would come along when I was at my most vulnerable and torment me while I was weak and unable to protect myself.  Sometimes, if I was fortunate, someone would notice I needed help and would try to encourage me, and provide aid and assistance to me.

Thankfully, it is evident that up to this point in my life, I have not had to be shot and killed to be put out of my misery.  However, I must admit that at times I have been in so deep despair that I might have welcomed the relief. 

But God isn’t done with me yet!!

Honoring the Unofficial Rosie Riveters

I just finished watching a Today Show segment honoring Rosie the Riveters.  It started me thinking about what my mother and grandmother did during those years.  I’ll start first with my mother.  My father had basically kicked her and their 3 year old daughter (me), out of the home so he could continue his affair with our married landlady.  (Another story for another time.)  Mother, an only child, and I moved in with her parents. 

My grandfather was one of the first automotive mechanics sent by their Car Dealer employers to be trained in Detroit by the automotive pioneers, teaching them the how to take care of and repair the motors and other working parts.  Until about 20 years ago, I thought my grandmother was simply “a homemaker.”  But more about that later.

(I realize this next part seems very hostile, but I need to include it to explain the rest of this history.  It is the truth, even though it is ugly.)  My other grandparents never helped us.  It was the other way around, with my mother and me supporting them the rest of their lives even though my dad’s mother openly and publicly blamed me (remember my age?) for the breakup of the marriage.  Even though, he was also an only child, he disappeared from all of our lives a couple of years following their divorce.  He reappeared 35 years later after both his parents were dead.  He told me he never got in touch with them because he had overheard them talking when he was young; they were discussing the possibility of giving him away.  They were in their late 30s when he was born.  They never owned any property and my grandfather never held a full-time job.  He would do house painting on occasions when someone asked him to help them.  His mother occasionally did quilting for others.   In other words, they did not have sufficient income to live on or take care of him, but he thought they did not want him.  (Sadly, he may have been partially right because they never exhibited much concern for others.  They rarely lived in the same place more than six months because one or the other of them would get into a quarrel with a neighbor.) 
 
Since my father had no intention of supporting us (he paid a total of $20.00 child support over the next 15 years and no alimony), Mother had to go to work.  She found a job in the Merit Clothing Company, starting at an elevated pay of $0.50 an hour.  The other factory employees were only making about half that, but Mother had experience in all areas as a seamstress.  Since it was wartime, their main product was uniforms for the soldiers.  Most times she worked six days a week and ten hours a day.  Now, I’m sure you are thinking “How in the world did she take care of a home and child?”  Well, she couldn’t.  My grandmother quit her job as a “repair lady” in an alterations shop so she could stay home and care for me and the home.  I did not know about her career until many, many years later and only then because when her former boss died, the employer’s family talked about how sad she was that she had failed in her efforts to keep my grandmother as an employee - even to the point of offering her the position of Manager of the business.  They said my grandmother’s response was “My daughter needs to work worse than I do, and for her to be able to do that my granddaughter needs me to be at home with her.”

During those early years, and until the after the end of World War II, there were many weeks when I did not see my mother from Sunday to Sunday.  Of course, my grandmother was always there.  She continued to work as a seamstress and do alterations, but did it in the home.   I knew in my head who was the parent and who were the grandparents, but my heart did not agree with my head knowledge.  Mother knew this, always accepted that fact, and explained it to others.

Both of these ladies took up the call to help the war effort by what they did.  They may not have been official “Rosie the Riveters,” but they qualify in my eyes. 

Women today are blessed, or cursed, however you view it, by what the women in the early 1940s were willing to do when the “boys and men” left their families and jobs behind.  Life for them, and the women following them,  was never the same.  The world learned what women are capable and willing to do, and it isn’t just cooking, cleaning, and raising families! 

Feeling Things Just Aren't Right

I awoke this morning with that “sense of things not being right” and began reviewing events from yesterday.  The previous 24 hour period was loaded with unwanted and unpleasant news.

First, my friend’s cousin had fallen for the umpteenth time and was having trouble breathing so she was taken to the ER.  Her falls are a result of MS and Parkinsons.  Her condition is getting more aggressive.  After X-rays, and determination of more cracked ribs, she was sent back home.

Second, my pastor, who has been experiencing severe back pain and had gotten less than good blood work,  was waiting for a diagnosis from the doctor when he received word one of his sisters had been taken to the hospital in Memphis and was “at the point of death” from kidney failure and a massive heart attack.  (Next day - Got the information his sister died last night about 8:00.)   He was only a couple of hours away from his doctor appointment in Paducah.  When he and his wife met with the doctor, the news was anything but what we all wanted to hear - Stage 3 Multiple Myeloma.  His treatment will be in Little Rock, Arkansas, in a hospital that is rated the best in the country for this disease.  We are all scrambling to help him as he awaits for arrangements to be made.

Third, my friend got another call, but this was about another one of her former co-workers and dear friend who has been dealing with serious heart trouble for years.  Her specialist is in Nashville and three of them take turns driving her for her frequent appointments.  This time, fortunately, her husband was the one to take her because during the appointment the doctor discovered her heart was not getting enough blood flow and she was immediately taken to ICU, where she remains this morning.  The outlook for her does not look positive.  Last night, the prognosis was very grim, saying she probably would not survive.  Thankfully, she is a very strong Christian, but none of us are ready to let her go yet.

Lastly, (and this is about me), while I was sitting thinking about all these things, plus another situation involving a friend of my son-in-love who was placed in harms way in his job and was forced to shoot and kill an attacker a few days ago, I was reading the posts on Facebook.  One of them was from a woman who still has most of her childhood friends living close by.  They get together often, take trips together, and have slumber parties, even though most of them are married.  I must admit - I am jealous. 

At least half of my childhood friends have died; the others do not live close and we rarely are in contact and that’s through Facebook.  Not having any siblings, experiencing the deaths of both parents, all grandparents, and my husband, I feel a lot of the time, completely all alone.  My son and daughter, and their children, have their own lives - as it should be.  I have made a few good friends the last few years, but it is just not the same as having someone who has known me most of my life.  There is no one to share memories with.  Being an only child of two people who were also an only child has made me very independent, and people have told me that admire that trait in me.  But - there are times when I wish I weren’t.  Sometimes I just need friends to lean on.  Sometimes -----

Some Old Person?

Have you seen the commercial where the woman says “That’s not for me.  That’s for some old person”?  Well, that was my first reaction when asked about doing something for another blog  - one for the population into their "third age".  But then I remembered, according to the calendar, I AM an old person. 

I don’t feel like an old person - at least most of the time.  When I look in the mirror or when I try to do something physical that years ago would have been a no-brainer, I am stunned that I am no longer part of the younger generation.

My generation has been blessed with medical science’s findings that our body can stay strong into the older years simply by being physically active, and our minds can stay sharp by doing puzzles.  In other words, to quote a saying we have heard for years - “use it or lose it.”   Because of their discovery, many people now remain active, vital, and useful well into their 80s and 90s. Willard Scott stays busy announcing birthdays for people who are in their 100s. 

For years I’ve heard the title “Sandwich Generation” applied to my age group.  I understand that, but I would like to change that to “Club Sandwich Generation.”   My 92½ year-old mother (isn’t it amazing that as we get up into those higher number years we return to the childlike behavior of adding fractions to our age?) is still up and going with very little help.   I do her shopping and drive her anywhere she needs to be (i.e. doctor appointments and church) plus some things she just wants to do.  I also want to be able to spend time with my children, grandchildren, and now a brand-new great-grandson.  The fact that I must divide my time between what I want to do and what I need to do, keeps me constantly on the move.  I honestly believe I am busier now than I was when I was younger.  Then I was stressed because I thought I was too busy. 

True, at times things seem overwhelming, but I am thankful that God has given me the stamina and ability to handle the responsibilities I have and also be able to include the things I enjoy in my daily routine.  For the most part I am still healthy, still interested in a lot of things, and have enough resources to not be dependent on someone else - yet.  One of these days I may be that “old person” who needs safety equipment to alert others when I need help.  For now - well, “That’s for some (other) old person.”

THANKFUL FOR ONE OF THOSE IRRITATING BLESSINGS

There is nothing quite like being startled out of your early morning slumber by the sound of the smoke alarm going off - three shrill beeps.  Don’t get me wrong; I”m thankful it works and alerted me to a possible danger.  The problem is, I could find nothing that caused the alert.

I should not have been surprised because a couple of weeks ago during a thunderstorm, it did a little “beep”.  I am convinced that was triggered by a lightening strike somewhere.  That has happened in the past.  It also does that when the filter for the furnace gets dirty, and I knew it was time to get the chair, climb up, and change that again.   I must admit it has been a too long since I have done that task. 

I got up, puttered around, and an hour later, the alarm went off again; this time it was a continual beeping.   I finally climbed up in a chair and removed the battery. 

Now - I must remember to get a new battery today when I’m at the store because this one was due to be replaced anyway.  In the meantime I’ll keep a vigilant watch and smell going, thankful for the blessing of being irritated and somewhat protected by the shrill sound of the smoke and carbon monoxide alarm.

Sad, But Thankful - Is That Selfish?

For several days now I have been swinging back and forth from sadness for my friends and thankfulness for myself.  Why?  Because in the last six weeks, I have had four of my friends to lose their sons in terrible accidents.  Two of these have left children behind.  In one instance, both the son and daughter-in-law were killed, leaving a teenage son to be raised by a grandparent. 

For the first one, I was sad, but thinking “I’m glad it’s not me.”  For the second one, again “I’m glad it’s not me, and God is good to me.”  Then I got the call about the third one.  “God please be with her.  Thank you, God, that it’s not me.”  After receiving the news of the fourth one I was  drained and almost afraid to be thanking God because I now knew how vulnerable we all are.

Each day - no, strike that - each hour - no, it has to be each minute, we are not promised the next.  These young men had lived between 22 to 49 years.  Yes, they had experienced many happy times and many sad times, but still by averages, they should have had many more years to experience happiness, sadness, joy, sorrow - just plain LIFE. 

In each of these deaths, many people have been touched with just how quickly our lives can be changed.   Many people surrounded these families during the funerals and later.  It is obvious these individuals and their families have been a positive influence on others.  They have been a witness of how God is there when we need Him.  That is not saying they did not grieve, because they did and still do.  However, through that grief they have been able to look beyond the sorrow and see God is in control and their tomorrows are in His Hands. 

Each day that goes by now, I try to pray for these friends and their families and also remember to thank God for their strength and witness.  I feel a little guilty thanking God that I’m not in their place, but I do pray that if I ever am that I will be able to be as strong a witness as they are.

MY PERSONAL MEMORIES OF 9/11

Like many other Americans, I have been remembering the few days before and after 9/11/01.  I have decided I need to put them down in print so the future generations will understand what we talk about when it is mentioned.

June 22, 2001, I was installed as President of the CPW (now Cumberland Presbyterian Women’s Ministry) Convention.  That position involved travel to the various Presbytery CPW meetings across the denomination - something different for me because I had only traveled with family up to that time.

My first scheduled Presbytery CPW meeting involved my first airplane flight.  I arrived at the Barkley Regional Airport, Paducah, KY early in the morning of September 7 for the first leg of my flight.  After arriving at the Memphis airport, I boarded a plane for Shreveport, LA, where my host for the weekend, Rosemary McGrill met me.  I won’t go into the weekend events here; they are not relevant to this memory.

To digress a bit, on the flight from Paducah to Memphis, a group of women from Paducah was headed to New York City for a business conference was also on that flight.  One of the women (a young woman) was visibly terrified.  She was crying uncontrollably and gripping the back of the set in front of her.  This was her first flight also.  Finally, I turned to her and tried to comfort her by telling her we would be okay.  (I was excited and a little anxious myself, but more excited because I was experiencing something new.)  She asked me how many times I had flown; I said this was my first.  She spit out “Well, you aren’t any comfort because you don’t know that for a fact!”  The other ladies had to take charge of her at the Memphis airport; I wondered how they would get her on the next flight to New York City.  (I later learned she made a call from New York City after the attack and had her husband drive up to get her and the other ladies because they could not get a flight back.  I don't know if she has ever flown again or not.)

Back to my story.  I repeated the flight in reverse on Sunday afternoon, September 9, 2001.  I remember calling my granddaughter, Brittney, while I was waiting to board the Shreveport airport; it was her birthday.  I got back to Paducah about 7:30 P.M. and drove home. 

Fast forward to Tuesday morning, September 11, about 8:00 A.M. - only thirty-six and one-half hours later.  I was dressing to go bowling; as usual, I had the Today Show on the TV.  I saw the first image of the plane hitting the World Trade Center.  I ran into the bedroom to make sure Russ was seeing it, too.  We both had a hard time getting dressed that morning because we kept stopping in front of the TV.  Before I left home, the second plane had hit.  That just confirmed my suspicions that the first was not an accident, but intentional.  By this time, all other segments of the news show were preempted.   At the bowling alley, we would throw our ball and then return to the spot where we could watch the TV.  It was there we heard the story of United Flight 93.  It was a day that we did not care about our scores or who won or lost.  We were focused on the fact our beloved nation had been attacked on our own soil. 

The rest of that week is difficult to describe.  In fact, most of it is a blur.  I remember churches having prayer vigils; I remember TV stations constantly showing reporters around the nation, especially at what we now call Ground Zero, and normal programing nonexistent.   I remember even the children’s networks were off the air for a while and children did not have the normalcy they needed.  My own granddaughter, Danielle, who was a couple of weeks away from her 4th birthday, said to me “Memee is watching bad things on the TV and crying all the time.”  VCR tapes were a blessing for parents and babysitters trying to keep the children occupied while we kept up with the latest news.

President Bush ordered all flights grounded, and fighter jets were the only planes allowed in the skies.  Many gas stations ran out of gas, and the others raised their prices.  Panic seemed to be the norm in business and society in general. 

I had another Presbyterial CPW meeting scheduled on Saturday, September 15.  This one was for Robert Donnell Presbytery in Huntsville, AL.  Russ decided to take half a day off and drive me there.  That was one of the most eerie drives I have ever experienced!   We drove to Nashville on I-24 and then I-65 toward Huntsville.  These are major arteries of our highway system.  There were times we would not be able to see another vehicle for miles.  Occasionally we would see a fighter jet overhead.  We were able to get gas when we needed it, but made sure we did not get too close to empty (the usual way Russ normally did) before doing so.  The return trip was similar.

I did not have another meeting to attend for a couple of weeks.  By that time, things had eased as far as travel was concerned.  However, even now, ten years later, we still are reminded of what did happen and can happen again when we board planes.  Now we have a search of our luggage and personal scans we are subjected to.

Life has become stable again, but not the same way it was before that life changing morning on September 11, 2001.  We Americans lost our complacency on that day; we Americans lost some of our innocence that day.  We Americans learned that we would not be protected just because of whom we are.

It seemed the entire nation drew closer to God and their faith - but sadly only for a while.  As memories of that fateful day have dimmed, many have returned to their former lifestyles.  I truly hope and pray it does not take another incident such as September 11, 2001, to bring them back to God again.

The following is a quote I found when searching for an image to include here.  I do not know the author’s name, but I echo the sentiment.

“The events of September 11, 2001 changed the world forever. May the victims rest in peace and may their families find peace and comfort.

I could have never imagined hijacked planes being used as missiles bringing down the Twin Towers killing innocent people, as I watched in disbelief this event unfold live on television.

I couldn't help, but think of the hatred and anger in people's hearts that cause them to carry out such heinous acts of terror and violence. On the other hand following the attacks, I was touched by the outpouring of love, from people from all walks of life, as they reached out to support one another in solidarity and unity.”

               

When A Frustration Turns Into A Blessing

Over the past few weeks, I have had several things that seemed to be a bad thing (frustration) that have turned out to be a good thing (blessing) for me. 

1.  While driving to church one night, I could not get the cruise control on the van to hold the speed.  This went on for more than 24 hours.  I finally took it to the dealer - still trying unsuccessfully to set the speed all the way there.  The technician took it for three test drives and the cruise control worked perfectly each time.  The good part here is there had been a recall on the air bags, and I was unaware of it.  This was corrected and therefore I was not charged for my appointment.  I was happy to have this done just a few days before leaving on a trip.  Blessing!

2.  The hot water was only warm.  I called the plumber that installed this new heater.  This was not the first return visit for them.  In fact, it was the fourth.  The one just prior to this was because the floor was staying damp under this heater; the servicemen could not find the cause and since it was only staying damp, and not an apparent leak, they left without charging me.  This time, they noticed there was not a cover on the vent pipe and  determined a strong wind had gone down the vent pipe and blew the pilot light out.  They went to the store and purchased a vent cap and also a shield for the bottom of the pipe because neither of those was on the pipe.  They lit the pilot light, installed the vent cap and shield and went on their way.  Result - no more damp floor and I have hot water.  Blessing!

3.  I got an advertisement in the mail from the same cell phone carrier I use.  One of the items listed in order to tempt users to upgrade their phones were free services I did not have.  I called and asked about them for the present customers.  Turned out the services I had were being upgraded and I was upgraded to these services at no initial fee or additional monthly charge.  Blessing!

4.  My home phone/internet bill arrived with a higher balance than normal.  Upon checking, I found that I had been charged for their long distance calling, which I had declined many years ago and have never had a need for.  I called to see why this was charged and requested this be deleted from the current bill.  The customer service representative checked and agreed I should not be charged for that, but also noticed I was paying a higher fee for my regular service than I should be due to a reduction on their part.  She suggested I authorize a change in this, which would lower that charge more than 50% and also would give me more features than I presently have.  After making sure I would not be losing any services I already have and that the bill would be lower, I agreed to this change.  Blessing!  
             (I must add that I am still waiting to see if what she told me is correct.  Guess I’m just a tad bit skeptical.) 

UPDATE  (August 3) - Things were not the same because I lost all long distance calling, included in the same county.  I now have Nationwide Unlimited Calling and I have been promised the monthly charge will still be lower.  We will see!!

FURTHER UPDATE (August 26) - Have received the first bill since the change.  It is indeed less - about $30.00.  Maybe I can start taking customer service people at their words - well, I'll try to be a little more trusting!

I wish I had known back then . . .

It’s that time of year when school reunions are being held. That leads to alumni “creeping” Facebook pictures to remind ourselves of our classmates and the good times.

A couple of years ago I uploaded pictures of my childhood. Among them were a couple of group pictures of school classes and Vacation Bible Schools.

Over the last few days, people have been commenting on those pictures and naming some of the children. That has lead to comments to each other.

One of the comments I received today was something I would have appreciated knowing when I was a child/teenager. I won’t share that comment here, but I definitely did not know anyone had ever thought that way about me!

I did not have any feeling of worth or self-confidence - or very little.  I don’t think it was anyone’s fault; I doubt they knew I felt that way because I rarely talked about myself. But I felt invisible. I now realize there was no need to feel that way, but I did. I guess because of that I have tried very hard to instill positive attitudes in my own children and grandchildren. I am very proud of the way they are taking the world by the tail and accomplishing something worthwhile with their lives. I’m sorry to say I don’t tell them enough. I hope to change that.  (To my family - if you are reading this, please know how much I love you and admire you!)

Back when I was young, females did not have many options. I only aspired to work as a secretary until I got married and had children, and that’s exactly what I did. The other choices were teacher or nurse.

My daughter has a very good work ethic and has made a name for herself in the public arena of politics, along with bringing up two daughters and a son. Her husband is very supportive of her endeavors. I admire him, too.

My son also has a good work ethic and has “climbed the ladder,” succeeding in his chosen field and has guided two girls into womanhood. He is a very responsible person (although I often wondered in his youth whether he would be or not. LOL)

So, my advice today is tell people, especially young people, how much you admire them, even if it is only the fact that they are in your life. There’s got to be something about them you admire.  TELL THEM!

Until next time . . .

A Trip Down Memory Lane

I decided recently to transfer some cassette tapes I had collected to CDs. As I was copying them, I did a little listening.  Oh, my, how the memories came flooding back to me!

The main memory I want to share today is of Russ’s Aunt Kitty.

She was a treasure. She was honest, but gentle in her reprimand and approach. She taught school even past her official retirement. She had moved to be with her daughter in Nashville and found a Child Care organization that needed a helping hand, which she gladly gave.

Kitty had played the piano for the Fredonia Cumberland Presbyterian Church for more years than anyone wanted to admit remembering. It was not long after moving that she once again got the opportunity to use her talented ability in her new church. When she decided it was time to give that up, at age 82, the choir director arranged for her to come and play a selection of songs while he recorded them. That recording was what caused me to reminisce. 

Kitty was a little bitty thing, but always a ball of fire, and that carried over into her music. I had forgotten how talented she was and the speed with which she struck those keys, making sweet music. 

I am so blessed to have this collection of songs to help me remember a wonderful lady, who always loved me from the time I joined their family. She exemplified God’s love in her life. She was a strong defender of her family. She was a giving person.

I doubt many of us will leave the same level of inheritance that Kathryn Rachel Harmon Quertermous left.  But then, we can always hope and strive to be a better person.

"Ms. Kitty" - August 2, 1914 - November 19, 2003

Stress - Is it always bad?

A friend was talking today about how her family member was dealing with stress - well, actually, NOT dealing with the stress in her life.

That conversation reminded me of the kijillion episodes of stress I have dealt with over the years. There were the times as a child I was told my parents’ divorce was my fault; there were the times during my teen years I struggled to be liked by the “right” people, the popular kids, and the people who wielded power. There was stress of school, the stress of employment, the stress of work. There were times as a young adult when I did not meet the expectations of my family, or myself.

There were also times of stress when, as a young bride, I tried to do everything “perfectly” - cook, clean, entertain, etc. After having children, the stress level became higher when we moved away from home, family and friends, trying to find new friends with the same goals and values as mine.

There were also the years of dealing with having a husband who traveled five days a week, being gone away from home four of those nights. Don’t get me wrong. I understood, and was thankful, he was doing what he was doing to provide a good life for us, and I had agreed to take over the responsibilities when he accepted the promotion. Our friends did not understand why we did not leave the children with grandparents (who were not available to us) or hire a babysitter and go out for a fun time like they did.    

Fast forward to the teen years of my own children. No need to go into details here. If you have or have had teens of your own, you know all too well how stressful that is. If you haven’t, no words can explain that situation to your understanding.

Becoming a widow at an age I had hoped to be free of obligations and responsibilities and be able to travel as a couple brought on a different kind of stress. During those childhood and teen years, I suffered with what was commonly called a “nervous stomach”. Some days I was unable to eat anything of substance or nutritious. That seemed to return for a period of time. During the first few months of being a married “single parent” as my husband built his career, I had overwhelming feelings of having the world on my shoulders. I had been responsible for making all decisions regarding the children and the home during the week. I had looked forward to the weekends, even if he was too tired to deal with the things I had handled all week. Now there was no weekend to look forward to.

Each of these things brought about stress in my life. Was it all bad? No! It made me who I am; at times, the stress was what motivated me to keep going - so I could see the end of that episode. Other times, I wanted to crawl under the covers and wait for that particular episode to go away.

Even now, I have my aging mother who needs me. That, in itself, is stressful. Since she is close to her 92nd birthday, she no longer drives. Even with the use of a walker, she is still unsteady on her feet. I am required to take her on trips to various doctors, shop for her groceries and toiletries, as well as be available at the drop of a hat as the frequent emergencies seem to occur.

I have been fortunate that the stress in my life has not caused me major health problems, such as my friend’s family member. I’m not sure whether that is because I dealt with it better or because I had a strong faith instilled in me by my family. Either way, I am somewhat thankful for the stress I have endured and very thankful I have made it through, becoming stronger after each to face the incidents that still are ahead of me.

God has blessed me more than I deserve. He has seen me through my almost 70 years with good health and an attitude that is more positive than negative.

As my pastor is always saying, “God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.”

I'm Sick Of The Word Historic!

Historic; Historic; Historic; Historic.  I’m sick and tired of the word Historic!

Yesterday, as one of the nurses was doing her job taking Mother’s blood pressure, pulse, etc., we were talking about the predicted upcoming storms. We both remarked on how strange the weather had been for more than two years. We also commented on what we felt was the beginning of this change: the September 2008 wind storm that was the remnant of Hurricane Ike which hit Galveston, Texas September 13. Western Kentucky received sustained winds of 70+ mph during that weekend, knocking out power for hours/days and ambushing huge trees. Who would have ever thought that a storm hitting that far away would cause so much damage to the middle of the country?

Next was the “historic” Ice Storm of 2009. When we heard on January 26 that Jim Cantore of the Weather Channel was in downtown Paducah, we knew we were in for a very bad time. Ice covered everything; the absence of electricity brought eerie silence, only shattered at times by the sound gunshot type sound of breaking limbs and tree trunks. In contrast, the occasional whisper of the power lines falling could be heard. Many were without phone service and power and all that entailed, for weeks - and in a few cases for a couple of months. Gas pumps didn’t work without electricity; supplies were sparse because transportation was risky; some businesses, such as Wal-Mart, only allowed a few people in the stores at a time and then only a certain amount of items could be purchased; schools were canceled for weeks; there were several deaths from people trying to keep warm with generators or kerosene heaters. On the upside of this, families got reacquainted because all generations spent time playing board games, cards, talking, and reminiscing.

That summer things changed; we had higher than normal temperatures.           
The next significant event was the drought of summer 2010. I seem to remember no rain fall on my yard for 72 days. Lawns dried up and died; crops failed; on top of the drought was extreme heat - I believe 43 straight days of temperatures over 90, some over 100. I remember driving down the road and looking at the thermometer and read 107.

This past winter we had 19 inches of snow in one month. The average for this area is only 9 inches per year. Just as we would take a sigh of relief, we would be hit again with deep snow and sometimes ice with it. Once again, schools were out for multiple days.

Recently, during 12 days of April, we received 17.5 inches of rain, causing extreme, again using the word “historic” flooding, forcing people out of their homes, farmland lost, and many areas that will never be the same. Many schools were forced to call of classes because no one could get to the school.                                    

The word “historic” became a normal part of our conversations.

Following the rains and floods, we are now in the midst of more tornados than ever on record. People to our south no longer have homes, communities, or even towns. People to our west have been hit the hardest. Joplin, Missouri basically is no more. They vow to rebuild, but many will pack up and leave the destruction behind. Loss of lives in both these areas is mind boggling. Others are dealing with shock and a type of Post Traumatic Stress. It is heartbreaking to watch the news interviewing parents who have lost their children, or children who no longer have a home or parents. Their future is not a welcoming, friendly environment. 

In all of this, I am so blessed.. Physically I am untouched; emotionally, well, that’s a different story. My heart and prayers do go out to all of these people. Whatever I can do is only a drop in the bucket to what is needed, but I am not able to physically help; God has blessed me with enough abundance to give financially and pray others will use hands and feet to help.

Heartbreaking

I just learned a few minutes ago that a school bus from a local county crashed and one child is confirmed dead and 20 sent to the hospital. These were 1st and 2nd graders in an accelerated reader program on a field trip.  The children were headed back to school from a sports complex. Several were airlifted, others taken to local hospitals. What a tragic ending to what I suspect was a day of fun for these children.

There were 3 bus loads on the trip. A deer pushed out of the woods by high water ran in front of this bus. The driver swerved, the bus overturned, and fell into a ditch.

I pray that no one blames this driver.  I suspect he/she is doing enough blaming themselves.  They must be feeling overwhelming guilt, even if though not deserved.

I have never had any desire to be a school bus driver.  Yeah, I know there are a few bad ones out there, but most are loving and caring for their passengers. They get to know them and their families.  I applaud their dedication to children.

May God comfort the families involved in this tragedy.  My heart is breaking for them as they deal with this now, and in the future.

Updating my blog

WOW! Two and a half years since my last blog. Since I got on Facebook, my need to blog diminished. Being able to post a short status is less time consuming, but not near as satisfying. So, here goes my latest.

First, a little “catch up” on the events of the last couple of years.

Ice Storm 2009 hit our area on January 26. Russ and I considered ourselves very fortunate because our power was restored in one week. Some went over a month without service. During that time, we spent one night at Susanna's and then evacuated to TN to be with Kevin, both times taking Phoebe with us. I'm glad we did. That gave Russ and Kevin time to spend with each other. Susanna and Jamie offered for us to stay with them because they had a generator and kept one room warm, but six people in one room and not being able to flush the toilet was not a good thing, especially since Kevin wanted us with him and he was the only one in an entire house and was not affected by the ice storm.

At the last blog, Russ was losing weight. That continued for a few months. He finally decided to have the surgery in Vanderbilt for the multiple aneurysms, even though the odds were not good. He came very close to dying on the operating table, and the doctors were not able to do all the surgeries they had planned. After being semi-comatose for two weeks, with only a few moments of being able to communicate with us, he did not survive. This was the first of many changes that have taken place in my life since that time.

Next was the change of bowling centers. The one I had frequented for 25 years was closed. Since I need that physical activity and interaction with people outside of church, I joined a league several miles away. Many of my friends from the former lanes also joined his league, so those friendships continue, and new ones were started.

Then, a situation arose that has effects still continuing today - one that motivated my entire family to change our church membership of 43 years. I will not go into details here because that is not something I want to reveal publicly.

I was elected and installed President Elect of our Regional Women’s Ministry - not without undercurrents.

Since I no longer teach Sunday School, or assist in a Bible Study, I have more free time, but must admit I do not use it wisely. Instead of continuing to study the scriptures, I find myself crafting or computing. My faith hasn’t wavered, but has not grown either. I need to get back to the study.

One granddaughter had a serious car accident; one became the object of bullying; one has gotten married; one has moved in with her father. The grandson has become very involved in basketball.

The make-up of my friends has changed. Some have gotten closer and some have grown less close. I was expecting this to happen, but the reasons were different than I thought would cause this.

I have always considered myself self-sufficient (not by choice - would have loved someone to take care of me, but that didn’t happen), but now when I get “over my head” in circumstances, I have to call someone to help.

My mother (now 91½) is becoming more and more dependent on me. Friends offer to do things for her and she won’t let them. She says “Sidney will take care of it for me.” She doesn’t let new people into her life. When she falls and has to call for help, she becomes very stubborn with medical help, and when they insist, she gets offensive with them. Her weight is slowly declining and that is a concern for the doctor and me. She has had MRSA outbreaks twice. One place on her face continues to flare and now we are adding another doctor to our ever growing list. The last hospitalization, which was for blood transfusion, added a surgeon because her veins are no longer sufficient to take blood. We are now having 3-5 doctor appointments per week. So far, I have managed to work my appointments around her schedule; when I have a conflict, guess whose appointment has to change!

That’s about all I can emotionally deal with right now. I will try to actually blog further at a later time.

Christmas Newsletter 2008

As much as I despise doing Christmas newsletters, I feel I need to do one this year to update you. It has been very hectic. I will go month by month.

January - calm before the storm.

February - 22nd had emergency visit with Mother’s doctor because of a “rash” on the foot. Turned out to be another pressure ulcer requiring two week hospitalization. During that time we were told she might lose her foot.

March - Mother was dismissed from the hospital on the 6th and given instructions to wear an offloading shoe on that foot until it was healed. On fifth doctors appointment in the next few days, she was admitted to another hospital because the infection had not gone way, and was even worse. Had surgery a couple of times to either amputate or scrape the bone. Amputation not done. Praise God.

April - 7th Mother moved into nursing home for rehab and recovery. More doctor appointments throughout month in which I had to transport her in wheelchair back and forth. Daughter-in-law had another psychotic breakdown requiring a brief stay for evaluation. Daughter had to have outpatient surgery same day daughter-in-law had surgery in Nashville and Mother had doctor appointment.

May - Doctors, doctors, doctors - Mother and Russ both, plus my semi-annual check up. Don’t know how, but was best blood test results ever! On the 22nd Mother was taken to the ER with a violent nose bleed - third in as many days. This one lasted eight hours. She had a shot of Vitamin K, her nose packed, and other measures taken before the bleeding finally stopped. (The nursing home house doctor ordered 5mg. of blood thinner be given to her as she was headed out the door on a stretcher. More about this later.) On the 26th, she was dismissed from the hospital. I refused for her to go back to where that doctor could be in charge of her. She had finished her rehab and was stronger so I moved her out of there and back to her apartment in Jackson House with Home Health nurses continuing as before. The doctor was furious with me for taking her home without his dismissal. I stood toe-to-toe with him and when he said “I want you to know, this woman’s health is now on YOUR shoulders and anything that happens to her if YOUR fault.” To which I replied “She has been my responsibility for several years now and I have not let her nearly bleed to death yet. You have. I willing accept that responsibility. Good Bye! You will not be treating her ever again.” Main computer crashed.

June - More doctors, doctors, doctors for both of them. Learned in carrying paper work back and forth between doctors that Mother had been diagnosed with MRSA and that’s why her foot was still not healed. We were never told that in the hospital or by doctors, but now understood why she always had a private room.

July - Even though Mother had multiple doctors appointments, it was calmer for her. However, Russ started a round of doctors and tests due to unexplained weight loss - eighteen pounds in six weeks. Began seeing doctors we had never heard of and for symptoms never known of before. Drove local women to Nashville for Women’s Conference. Two of them had emergency back in Paducah. Had to arrange transportation for them to return while I stayed in Nashville to drive others back in church van. Son’s wife decided she didn’t want to be married to him any longer after twelve years together. She and her daughters moved out.

August - starting on the 3rd, Mother had more hospital stays. Falling in the bathroom at church she cut her head, requiring an ambulance trip to ER, thirteen stitches in the right forehead, and five days in the hospital. She was sent home with a walker and instructions to use it all the time. On the 11th, she decided to take the garbage across the hallway and drop it in the chute - without her walker! She fell again - in a closed room - and injured the left side of her head. Fortunately the doctors, nurses, and I had been harping on the fact she had a LifeLine pendent and was to use it when needed (had had for years, but never would use because she didn’t want to “bother” them but would crawl across the floor and call me.) She used it this time and after they found her out of her apartment, was treated to another ambulance ride to ER. No stitches this time, but another stay - nine days this time. The same ER doctor was on duty. When he said he was admitting her again, I shrugged my shoulders and said “What can I do with her?” He grinned and said (in his East Indian accent) “Buy her a helmet.” Her primary physician threatened to not treat her any more if she kept falling. Also, during the month, Russ had to do to Nashville for yet another doctor to see him causing Mother to stay in hospital an extra day. Several doctor appointments for Mother following her dismissal the second time. She sure was a colorful sight!

September - After all these months of treatment, infection still rampant. On 5th Mother had to have big toe amputated. Another fall a couple of weeks later but not requiring hospitalization, just x-rays and CT scans. Round of doctors for both. Daughter’s boss resigned elected position due to 2nd DUI in five months. Her job in question as she was hired by him and served “at his pleasure” for fourteen years. Bright spot was her election as President of Kentucky Democratic Women for two year term.

October - repeat of September with exception of daughter’s job - was fired by new appointee. No recourse. Mother declared healed of infection and surgery. Ordered new custom made shoes and she got new hearing aids.

November - More weight loss for Russ. Additional doctors called in. Daughter having more problems; surgery had not corrected ailment. On 29th, daughter’s mother-in-law did not wake up; had no signs of illness. Has two adult retarded daughters that have never been away from her; neither able to feed, clothe, or bathe themselves. All in turmoil and stress.

December - Funeral, helping with “girls”, Jackson House had an apartment fire on the 2nd and everyone evacuated. Mother okay, but shook up and hyper as all get out after being walked down seven flights of stairs. Russ had more tests in Louisville on the 5th; doctor found large polyp (proved to be non-cancerous) in pancreatic duct. It was removed and a stint placed there for removal sometime in January.

So the story goes on – This is complete as of December 11, 2008. Only God knows what the rest of the year will bring.

May God bless you all with a very Merry Christmas and Blessed New Year.