Can I introduce you to someone?

Each year around this time, I ask myself "was it 8/9/98 or 8/8/98?"  As it turns out, sixteen years ago today, I got to hold the body of my still-born son, Asher, for the first and last time on this side of eternity. Only a few people got to be with his body that day.  It was a quiet and poignant scene as opposed to most births I've been to where there was much more activity, noise, exuberance etc.  I have a few photos taken during that time that we've shown to only a small group of close friends over the years so as not to freak people out. Most folks (including someone today) have counted it a privilege to see some of the items in the "Asher box" and are grateful that we would consider them close enough friends to want to share with them at that level. You also learn when you have a child die that there are hundreds of people around you that have lost children and they carry that experience with them, but hardly ever speak of it. There are many reasons for that but if it helps, here I am thinking about the whole thing and here are some of my thoughts as well...

Over the years I've come up with a self-doctrine of what I believe about his soul, how "old" he will be when I see him in heaven, the fact that he's there, what he may be doing etc. etc.  I know that Asher will be someone I will meet in heaven.  I know I will have a level of understanding that I lack right now and I believe part of that will be a more complete awareness of who people are and what they've been through for God's glory.  I know he'll recognize me and I hope he'll call me "Daddy" (tearing up now, sorry).  I long to hear that voice almost as much as I long to see the face of my Saviour and hear God's "well done". I don't know if Asher's will be the voice of a little boy or the strong muscled hug of a man who has been working on my eternal mansion as a craftsman or something.  But I long to hold him and see in his eyes a living spirit.  I'm sure I'll be a blubbering mess.

I've decided over the years to leave an occasional item at his gravesite.  I know this probably constitutes littering, but I don't care.  I kiss his name on the stone when I visit and I left him toy cars and other small items over the years. When he would've turned 21, I'll be cracking open a cold one and leaving it for him. I formally decided to live my life totally for Christ when I was 16.  So this year I'll be leaving a small Bible for Asher. Though for sixteen years Asher has been worshipping at the throne of the Almighty with thousands upon thousands of angels and God's people that have gone on before us. So he probably doesn't need a Bible to fellowship with Jesus like I do. But he'll get one anyway.

I remember people "not knowing what to say", but just being there with a smile, a hug and a tear.  Folks, that means SO MUCH to those who are experiencing loss. Don't ever discount doing that. And don't stop talking to people because you don't know what to say.  It doesn't matter how smart or stupid you think you sound.  The fact that you're there is what they'll remember long after the grace to go through such things fades away.  Bob K., Mike P., Steve S., David C., Trish M., I remember you and countless others who were at the funeral and the days before and after.  You were not, as Job called his friends "miserable counselors".  Today I try to emulate your example of "just being there" and caring when I'm aware of folks who are suffering.

I have one last thing I need to say.  We also, at some point, had a miscarriage that we didn't carry to full term like Asher.  We named that child Grace.  I know much less about her that I do my son.  I haven't seen her, held her or have any concrete knowledge of what's happened to her.  I tend not to think about her as much since the experience was very different. But I need to say that I love her as much as Asher or any of my living children and I look forward to that sweet reunion with her as well in heaven.

So happy sweet 16 Asher.  I love you and I can't wait to see you again.

Dad

Forget-Me-Not

I've debated several times about writing about this subject.  It's highly personal for me.  But, I tend to always imagine that no one ever reads this blog.  So I feel a small bit of bravery in posting.  The month of June has been a difficult one for me.  I haven't talked about it much.   

June holds within it two special days for me.  The first is Father's day and the second is my father's birthday.  This year he turned 81.  It especially his me hard when I thought of him and could not call to say happy birthday.  The pain was compounded by the fact that Ski went out of town days later for a surprise birthday celebration for his father who is turning 75.  When dad turned 80 last year, it quietly slipped by us.   And this year, it was the same.  I was heartbroken.  Last night, I wept as I missed my daddy and all I wanted to do was give him a call.   

I could have called.  But I didn't.  There are a few reasons why.  Number one is that my father doesn't talk much anymore.  He lives life as more of a bystander.  More observation than participation happens.  And the second reason is the fact that he really doesn't remember me anymore.  

So as Father's Day approached, I felt incredibly lonely.  As I scrolled down Facebook and saw the loving tributes to fathers who had passed away, I hurt.  And as I saw lovely things people did for their dads, I hurt.   And when my husband picked up the phone to call his father, the flood gates opened and I cried and cried.  And no one quite understood.  

Only a month earlier, I had gone to visit my dad.  He has Congestive Heart Failure and he's not doing well.  He had been in the hospital for awhile and we now know that really, there is nothing more to be done for his heart.  It is very weak.  So, I decided to visit so I could say goodbye....not really in words, but just by seeing him and spending time with him.  The first time I walked into the room, I had expected his face to light up.  But as I entered, he almost looked bewildered.  And as I greeted him, I knew he wasn't sure who I was.  And when he called me by his aunt's name, Marguerite, it was all I could do to keep my composure.  

Where my father lives is one floor below where I spent most of my weeks at work in PA.  I cared for people with Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, Dementia, ALS, and people who were just aging.  I loved my patients and they became my family.  I shared with them about my life outside the walls, and even if they couldn't speak to me, I spoke to them as I fed them and readied them for bed.   I was bit, kicked and scratched.  My hair was pulled and I came home with bruises and tales from the day.  And when it was time for them to die, I sat with them, held their hands, and comforted them.  No matter who it was, I would stroke their hair and hold their hand and tell them that they were not alone and it was ok to die.  Many times, I was the only one who would do it.  Many of the girls were afraid of death and dying.  So often, I would sit there alone and even stay into the next shift loving them as they died.  And then I would perform the required aftercare.  For me, it became a very spiritual experience to prepare them for when the mortician would arrive. In fact, I have enjoyed that part of my work so much that when my children are grown, I would like to at least volunteer for Hospice work.

All of that said, there is NOTHING that can prepare you for the day your parent forgets who you are.  My father and I were quite close.  I am a daddy's girl....and proud of it!!  I was the only girl and we had that daddy/daughter kind of relationship.  I still call him my daddy.  And as I have grown older, I have learned that my compassion, humor, and impishness are all lovely gifts I have gained from my father. 

I used to think that the hardest thing about having a parent with Dementia would be how all of the new people in his life would never know the incredible man that I know.  My father rarely speaks now.  Only yes or no most of the time.  He was always so witty and smart.  He was a gifted musician and filled with compassion.  As a pastor, it was obvious that his greatest gift was in his care for people.  The shut-ins and hospitalized people would always look forward to his visits.  But I now realize that I was mistaken.  The hardest challenge for me is not how other people perceive my father, but instead how he looks at me.   I am someone he doesn't really know.  A more distant relationship.  I am no longer the daughter who married a man who reminded her of her father.  I am more like a stranger who he doesn't know. 

Someday, when we have both left this life, I long to see my father once again.....and see that familiar recognition in his eyes when he sees my face.  I long to hear him speak to me and tell me about his childhood and the devilish things he used to do.  His stories would make you laugh so much!!!   And I long to hear him sing about the Jesus he loved so much.   And to hear him play the trombone once again.   Until then, I think I might weep at every hymn I hear.  I often cannot sing as I hear my daddy's lovely baritone voice sing the notes of the old well loved hymns.  

Happy Birthday, Daddy!!!   

Reflections on Life without Sweetness

So.....I did it.  Or almost.  I have 24 hours at least to go, but this is the easy part.

What did I do?
I survived two weeks without sugar.
Oh wait....there's more.
It was also two weeks without artificial sweetener.
And....
Without natural sweeteners like stevia, honey, and all of those other funny things that half of you have never heard of.
None.
Oh....and no alcohol.
Oh....wait.   There was one exception.
I did eat bread.  Bread I made myself.  And if you have ever made bread, you will know that it is really hard to make bread without any sugar for the yeast to eat.  But divided into portions for eating, the sugar in the bread did not amount to anything to speak of.

I was actually allowed to have sugar if it was included way down on the ingredient list.  I wasn't sure how to gauge that so I pretty much limited myself to none with the exception of my bread and about the total of  about an ounce of salad dressing divided into two occasions.

All fruits and veggies were allowed.

I found this easier than I thought it would be.  And there were some surprising results.

The first few days were the worst.  On about day two, I developed a wicked headache.  I don't know if it was related to sugar or not.  It could have been caffeine related.  However, I really think it was the lack of sugar.

I am not a huge sweet eater.  But the strangest thing happened.  The first few days, all I could do was think of sweet things to eat.  Brownies, cake, cookies, ice cream....anything sweet.  I think it was the mere fact that I had decided not to eat it that my brain was trying to convince me otherwise.  In fact, on one of those days, friends asked us to the movies.  When we got our tickets, we got a free snack of sour patch kids.  I do not like fruity, chewy candy.  I do not like sour candy....except while I was pregnant with one of my kids.  But sitting next to Ski while he had a few, I almost could not stand it.  I could smell the sugar.  Thankfully, the movie was really good so I was able to concentrate on that instead. 

Lucky me, my grocery shopping days also fell during this time.  I had already realized that when I was tired, overwhelmed, and stressed, those were the times that I really was challenged food-wise.  And so, I knew it was coming.  I stayed close to home and only did half of my shopping.  I made it home alive and unscathed from any mishaps.

We also happened to go out on a date during this time.  I ended up actually choosing a place I don't normally like to eat at...Panera.   It took me close to 45 minutes to figure out what to eat.  We sat at a table, menu in one hand, Ski's phone in the other.  One of the surprising things I found was that almost every single salad dressing I have looked at contains some form of sweetener.  Panera unfortunately does not have an oil and vinegar option.  So after going through a number of dressings, I found one that had much less sugar, asked for it on the side, and used it sparingly.  

As an aside, I found only four cereals in the mainstream market which are completely devoid of sugar/sweetener.  Also, mayo and veganaise have sugar.  Mustard usually does not.  Dijon mustard did have alcohol, but I was unsure if the sugars remained after processing or not.  In short, in the typical American diet, sugar and sweeteners are everywhere. 

My second challenge was an event including dinner that had been on the calendar.  I knew it was coming and dear Ski discovered the menu for me.  I knew there was a meat as a main course.  Salad would be there.  Bread would be available, but I doubted whole grain and so I made rolls especially for the occasion.  I brought balsamic vinegar and oil for my dressing.  Dessert did not sound promising so I also went out and bought my favorite fruit...an apricot...as my dessert.   I had planned on eating chicken, but when I got there, the chicken had bbq sauce on it.  Instead, I opted for the shredded pork which may have had additional ingredients mixed in, but was a less sugary option since the sauce for that was separate.  I had my salad and roll.  And I was surprised to see a big bowl of chopped fruit at the dessert table so I had some of that....and saved my apricot.

When I craved a drink other than water, I made some peppermint iced tea.

And finally, the last big challenge was when I got sick.  I ended up catching a nasty cold.  I longed for chicken noodle soup so I dragged myself to the store for a chicken and a few other items.  This was a tough trip.  I felt really awful and really wanted to stop for a coffee or something.  No, coffee was not out of bounds, but I'll talk about that later....  But instead, I got my stuff, went home and crashed while my lovely daughter, Hannah, made the most delicious soup ever for me.

So....Here are my major thoughts on the past two weeks

#1  I drank a whole lot more diet soda than I thought I did.   I didn't miss it except for when I was out and running errands.   But I've decided to refrain from artificial sweeteners in the future.

#2  EVERYTHING  tastes better without sweetener in your life.  We might stop by the store and try a sample and as I was raving about how sweet a strawberry was, I'd realize Ski was rather silent.  I'd ask..."Isn't it sweet."  Nope.   Not to him.    The first day was tough, but the second or third day, I'd eat a fresh picked cherry tomato from my garden and it tasted like sugar.  Just think of how many times you have bought fruit just to be disappointed that it was tart.  I didn't experience any of that this week.  I found it fascinating!!   So actually, it wasn't a life without sweetness.

#3 Going no sugar does NOT lead to binging.  Never once did I binge.  I did not give up and I resisted.  I was committed to doing this.

#4 I could never do this long term because ....I'd miss wine.   I really do enjoy having a glass with Ski now and then.

#5  I could never do this long term because....I'd miss chocolate too much.  There is just something about chocolate that I like...the creaminess.  And really, you can't find any chocolate without sugar.   I did find a banana dipped in cocoa powder to really help my chocolate craving.  But it just couldn't take the place of the flavor of good chocolate.   And there's the aspect of desserts.  Every now and then, you would just like something a bit decadent.  And sugar really helps that.

#6 I could never do this long term because....I'd miss my coffee.  I can drink coffee with simply cream just fine.  But just a bit of sugar helps.  I am sensitive to the tanins and the sugar makes my coffee a more pleasurable experience.  The good thing is I think I will be able to cut way down on how much sugar I put in my coffee.  I didn't drink much coffee the past two weeks and I missed it. 

#7 I have now decided that I will be low or at the very least lower sugar from now on.  I can now easily have a smoothie made with fresh fruit, a bit of plain yogurt and now sugar and find it tasty.  Giving sips to my family, they find it tart.  I'd rather not lose that aspect of the past two weeks. 

My Biggest Encourager

One of the biggest blessings in my life is my son and the fact that he plays his guitar ALL the time.....in his room, in the office, in the library, in the den....
Even if he is only practicing, it causes me to stop and think. And here he is right now....
Playing and reminding me of God's desire for my life.

 I wasn't going to tell you this....It was my secret. So after reading this post, you can just forget it!
Ski and I had a long conversation last night. Well, it was mostly me doing the talking. Telling him of my frustration of my weight.
Yes that. I said it.

I never had a weight problem. It was easy to loose weight when my older children were born. In fact, I didn't even try. But with the onset of my friend, Hashimoto's, came this lovely thing called being overweight. I've been discouraged about it for a long time. I've been disheartened to watch Ski run....now close to 15 miles a week. And lose weight. Although, I am his biggest fan, there is a twinge of discouragement in my heart when he tells me his current lowest weight. And my family is full of health issues that would benefit from weight loss. In my teens, I saw my mother starve herself on Wasa and still make little headway. So between that and the fact that I am convinced that the diet approach is unhealthy, I was determined to find something that felt "normal." After a long search, I think I have found the resources that I feel are comfy. So now I have plans. Good plans. And a long road ahead.

But I have a hard time doing things alone. I need a friend. I need someone to prod me along. To help me out. And while I think encouragement is easy for me to give, it is the hardest thing for me to go without. I seem so easily discouraged! In discouragement, I reached out. And well, that didn't work out so well..... And then every time I saw that person I reached out to, anger gnawed at my heart.

And I reached out again and well, the same thing happened. And then there was a conversation I overheard that my Ski had not too long ago. At first I was angry because it had to be hurtful to him and it was so completely unkind. And then I was angry because of what it meant for me.

Now, this past month or so, I've found anger to be a HUGE motivator. While I skip meals....a lot....which doesn't help my turtle metabolism....I do participate in emotional eating. So I've been channeling that anger into exercise rather food. But still, there sits my uneasy heart. Because exercise with anger kind of can make you feel sick. On top of that, when I am hurt, I just say, "Forget it. I don't need ANYONE!!" Well, I'm wrong... So, I decided today that this anger thing needs to be dealt with and not just channeled. So after I sat here thinking about this, down comes my boy strumming and singing. And as he settled here in the den, I felt a tug at my heart. A tug reminding me...

A few years back, I had this relationship that meant a lot to me. And well, very long story short, God showed me that He wanted more of me. He showed me how I idolized that relationship and how He wanted to be in that place instead. And so, while I am not fond of being in a place where God has not given me abundantly close relationships, I have learned to be content where He has me. I have grown to love Him more and depend on Him in a greater way. And He has become my All. And so in that moment of hearing God speak to my heart, He said how this is about me and Him not me and a buddy of friend who can help me. I told you I was wrong. I need GOD!!!!
 He is my encourager.
My rock
My friend.
My biggest fan.
He is more than enough!  

Enough 
by Chris Tomlin 
All of You is more than enough for 
all of me 
For every thirst and every need 
You satisfy me 
with Your love 
And all I have in
 You is more than enough 

You are my supply 
My breath of life 
And still more awesome than I know
 You are my reward worth living for 
And still more awesome than I know 

All of You is more than enough for all of me 
For every thirst and every need 
You satisfy me with Your love 
And all I have in You is more than enough

 Youre my sacrifice
 Of greatest price 
And still more awesome than I know 
Youre the coming King 
You are everything 
And still more awesome than I know

 More than all I want 
More than all I need 
You are more than enough for me 
More than all I know 
More than all I can say 
You are more than enough for me

Legacy

I'm going to tell you something that I've been holding back.

My father is dying.

I haven't said anything because I know I see relatives on Facebook and somewhere in my jaded mind, I think people actually read my blog. I've been coping with this for awhile now. The people who know me well are probably sick of hearing about it. But it is a big deal for me. I'm actually going to go visit him soon. To say goodbye. Without saying goodbye. It took me a long time to decide if I was going. Whenever I say goodbye to my parents, I always figure that I may never see them again. But I also worked with dying people. Very often they wait. They wait for people to come or events to pass before they die. So after thinking and praying a long time about it, I decided to go and see him one last time so that he will not wait for me.

I also have a friend who is dying.

I've been thinking a lot about my dad. And my friend. I've been thinking about the opportunity that they have.

What would you do differently if you were dying? Is there someone that you would see? Is there something that you would do?

You see, the knowledge of our impending death affords us the chance to do things we might not have otherwise done. People have the tendency to live life differently in the face of death. They cherish their time more. They fill it with meaning. Even Christ did this when he gathered his disciples around him the evening before his death and ate with them. He shared one of the most important meals of the year with those he loved most.

In this modern society, we rarely think about tomorrow. We don't look at how much the small things matter. We speak harshly to our husband or our children. We mistreat people. We work too long. We don't call. We say foolish things. We obsess over material things and think little of those around us.

When I was a CNA, one of my patients KNEW she was dying. She didn't appear sick. But she definitely knew. Every night, she'd have important conversations with me. She'd tell me about the latest sermon she heard. She'd tell me to be sure and send her dress, the one she was to be buried in, to be cleaned. She'd give me sage and precious advice. And she talked incessantly about visiting her granddaughter's inn. In fact, she talked about it so much, on our day off, my co-worker and I drove her 2 hrs to have lunch cooked by her granddaughter, the chef. I will never forget that day. Not because the meal was so wonderful. But because she was so pleased that her face glowed for days. Not long after that, she developed a blood clot, went into the hospital and died. I do not think that my sweet friend regretted a single moment of her final days.

But here's the problem. You and I. It is likely that we will not know when our final day might be. It may be so sudden an unexpected that we will not know until we are in the presence of God. And that's what I've been thinking about.

There is so much in my life already to regret. While God's saving love has covered my multitude of sins, that does not mean I still am happy and pleased with all of my choices. And still....I continue to make wrong choices. I get angry. I am lazy. I say stupid things. I wonder....would I still make those same choices if I knew that I wouldn't take my next breath? Would I ungraciously criticize a brother or say those angry words to my spouse if they were dying?

So if we would act differently if we knew we were dying, why not act differently now? The question is...

What kind of legacy am I leaving?

When people look back on my life, will they think I was a loving, forgiving person? Will they consider my anger? Will they remember my foolish words? I am not convinced that the legacy I am creating is worthy of being remembered. And if I claim to be a Christian, does my life draw people to Christ or away from him? And worse yet, would my Lord be pleased? Will He look at my life and tell me that I have done well? Or will he shake his head sorrowfully thinking of how I have pushed others away from knowing Him? So, I've decided that I'm going to spend more time seeking after the things that scripture urges me to seek after. I don't think I can create the perfect legacy. But there are things I see that don't please me, and I can be different!!

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.
If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.

(Galatians 5:16-26 ESV)

I can leave a legacy of love.
I can leave a legacy of joy.
I can leave a legacy of peace.
I can leave a legacy of patience.
Of kindness.
Of goodness.
Of faithfulness.
Of gentleness.
And of self-control.

I can do all these things because Christ, who gives me strength, has enabled me to do so.

When I think about the days ahead when my father dies, the first thing I think of is how I will long to see him once again in heaven, healed and completely whole. I think of how I will hear his voice singing praises to the Lord. And I think of the joy I will feel to be reunited with my father.

I long for that day even more when I will be united, too, with my heavenly father and I long to hear how pleased He was with my humble little life.

Another

SEASIDE

Here I stand
Where the foamy brine touches the edge of the earth.
As I watch, the moments come and go,
Like the ebb and flow of a breath.
In and out.

I reach out,
Trying to fathom all that is spread out before me.
But the water drips from my fist
Like tears raining upon my cheeks
Down they fall.

I see now
These fleeting days are like the broken shells and rocks
Forming the sand beneath my bent knees
Rutted with the joys and sorrows
Of our lives.

Tomorrow
This day will be forgotten by the multitudes.
Yet I will remember this ocean
How it changed me and somehow left
Unnoticed.

~rag

*******THIS WORK IS PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR AND NO REPRODUCTION IS PERMITTED WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM AUTHOR. ALL OTHER USE CONSTITUTES THEFT ********

I Love, I Love My Calendar Guy.....

Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me will know that I am not organized. If, when you think of a large family like mine, the lady with 19 or so kids quickly comes to mind, and you think I run my household accordingly, you are sadly mistaken. I do have a strange kind of organization that I like to call organized chaos.

I am the woman who never wears a watch. I've never regularly carried one except while nursing a newborn. I do have a nickel allergy and the "nail polish trick" has never worked for me. That is my excuse. I am the woman who begged for a planner that she never used. My kids were never on schedule while little. They often fell asleep in the car while I ran errands and then never go back to sleep at home so it wasn't like a schedule would have worked anyway. The other reason for my wayward ways with time is my rebellious nature. There's just something about a schedule that feels unnatural to me and I long to fight it every moment.

My husband is the planner. I should have seen it coming. While dating, he did have a "spur of the moment" side which caused trips to the very tip of the Eastern Shore of Maryland for the day. However, we never stopped anywhere along the way because the goal was to get there...hopefully by a certain time. Thankfully, this has eased....mostly due to necessity of kids needing to stop to eat or use the restroom on long car trips. But to this day, if his pda or phone dies, he is lost. Once he left his daytimer on top of the car and drove away....leaving a trail of paper behind us. We parked on the side of the road and ran around like idiots chasing papers swept up by cars zooming past. I seem to recall it took him months to recover. People ALWAYS ask me about dates and arranging things. I glaze over and try and dream up more and more creative ways to say "Go talk to Ski!!"

Lately, we've been having a consistent problem with chores getting done. There is no sense to it because everyone has the same chores all the time. I decided that perhaps purchasing a dry erase calendar and a bunch of pens might help....and maybe a little variation. After much looking and debating, I found one the other day marked down at Target for the incredible low price of $5. Silly me. I bought it. I put it up late yesterday afternoon. Before I even left the house, I had a child ask me if he could write on it. Ski and I went on a date and came home late.

Before going to bed, I passed the board and made the mistake of asking Ski if he had seen it. It was then that complete madness ensued!! I had assigned colors and pretty soon, Ski and three of the Skibums were writing away on the board. In fact, the girls even called their brother down to write on it. Off I went to bed, shaking my head.

So this morning, I thought the calendar obsession would be over. To my amazement, I came down to find a child who never completes their chores doing a newly assigned chore from the board. I began to feel feverish and wonder if that nasty stomach bug had finally come to rest upon my household. Moments later, one of my children who had not been assigned a chore for the day started having a fit.

"I don't have anything to do!!! It's not fair!"

A voice of reason which was not my own said, "Why don't you just be happy?"

"Weeellll.....EVERYONE else has a chore!!! I waaaaant one!!!!"

My entire household has gone mad.
Calendar and chore obsessed mania has begun!
I can't win.
I think I'm going to procrastinate and go back to bed!