Category: God

One Year Ago

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This is June 20, 2024. It has been one year since the early morning when I sat by Dennis’s bed, holding his hand, as he took his last breath. Time has separated me from that experience, and so much has happened that I acknowledge it has been many months. And yet, it seems short, as if it were only yesterday. You would think I would be used to the craziness of time by now.

I have gone back to the beginning of the story by reading my blog posts from 2018 and on. The good thing about this reading exercise is that it helps me remember details, some of them tragic, some of them ridiculously funny. I also lit the remembrance candle while doing this – a sort of ceremony. I will probably go to the cemetery later and see if the plants around his marker have taken root. I expect the day to be full of memories of our Lewy Body time, but also of simpler times when we didn’t know what was coming.

I haven’t had trouble continuing with life. It is good, this June, to be able to put bouquets of peonies around the house, to consider going to events during the local festival, to meet new friends in a hiking club. There has been too much to do to even consider sitting around feeling depressed or lonely. I miss Dennis, but there is nothing like a prolonged period of sickness and suffering to make it clear that death was a relief for him, and for me. And there is nothing like faith in God to make it clear that death is not the end, even though there are not a lot of details about what comes next.

As I watch our little granddaughter, whom Dennis did not get to meet, grow and become amazing, I’m aware of how closely together his departure and her arrival were. I view it as providential that he was able to look at the early ultrasound and recognize it as “Julie’s baby”. He would be so proud of her now.

Our little Gwendolyn Ruth

It was providential that he was present at both daughters weddings during the covid years. It was providential that each difficult part of the worst five years of our lives held such precious, significant moments. There were times when relationships were formed, and deepened, times when we didn’t expect help but it was there anyway. Times when we endured things we didn’t think we could endure, and found strength we didn’t know we had.

Thank you God, for being real to me through it all. You were, you are and you will be present with me. That gives me a lot of peace, freedom from worry and a weird sense of confidence. Pretty happy about that, just sayin’…

What God Does with Some of My Days

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Today I told God to do anything he wanted with my schedule. I have found this is always a good idea.

Today I walked to Walmart and wandered around, looking for seeds, a screw eye, and milk. I found all three. It was entertaining as usual.

A new addition at Walmart – signs of our time.

Today I installed the screw eyes on the sides of my patio. I attached ratchet straps to them and fastened my awning down so it won’t rip off and fly away.

Today, while getting tools for the above project, I found a jar of screws and odd gadgets that came from mom’s garage when she moved. I have my own jar like that so I combined them and got rid of a not needed jar. I straightened my tools while I was there.

Today I found an ugly cup holding pens and pencils, and was going to dispose of it. I thought better of that and scrubbed the ugly pink and black decal off the cup and put the pens in another pen holder. It’s not a bad cup.

The not bad cup.

Today I planted the seeds I bought so that later this summer I will have a pot of cherry tomatoes and some cucumbers. I moved my raised planters to get better sunlight.

Seeds in the sun, bright orange strap holding my awning down.

Today I had trouble closing one of my kitchen drawers and had to clean and re-arrange the things in it. The electric knife was in the drawer and I remember that the blades wouldn’t eject when I wanted to use it. I spent an hour figuring out what was wrong, fixed and cleaned it and back in the drawer it went.

Clean drawer

Today I emailed some friends and cancelled a biking trip that was scheduled for Thursday. It’s most likely going to be raining that day. I don’t like to bike in the rain.

Today, since I’m not going biking this week, I took my twin bikes to the shop to be made clean and safe. They will be used a lot this summer and need some love.

Today I washed last year’s ants out of the hummingbird feeder, made some sugar water to go in it, and hung it out where the hummingbirds can find it.

Today I talked with my auto insurance adjuster and made an appointment at the auto body shop to fix my car’s tailgate. I ran into something last week and I like my car too much to leave it with that rather large dent.

Today I made arrangements for my next visit to Gwennie Ru and contacted my favorite people who let me rest at their homes on the way.

The day is not over yet. Although I haven’t done anything of great importance, there were numerous small things that were satisfying, restful, and worth doing. I won’t question God’s decisions about my day. He knew I needed a day with sunshine and small successes. It was a good day.

Unaware

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This whole week has a very strange feel to it. GwennieRu is her usual baby self, responding with smiles and interest in everything around her, blissfully unaware, looking perfectly beautiful.

We who have a little more knowledge about surgery and what it entails are less blissful. I am looking at her, drinking in every detail of her sweetness, and more aware of how thankful I am for her, and for this time with her. While I have no reason to expect anything but a good outcome from her procedure, I am so aware of the complexity of it, so aware of the skill needed and the vigilance required… that knowledge alone makes every minute with her special, including diaper changes and fusses and spit ups. All of it.

I feel the same angst coming from her parents as they have video conferences with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist. One thing we talk about is how the messages of support and prayer keep pouring in from friends and family. Many have dealt with similar uncertainties and various kinds of outcomes. It is good to hear that they have been able to walk the path God laid out for them. It is good to hear that they consider our request for prayer as a mandate, a job that they are glad to do for us. They join us as we go into this experience. They acknowledge that God is present and watching over Gwennie. I don’t know how people get through life without a belief that someone better than us is in charge. Times like this show us that so clearly.

This week, some ladies in Julia and Kevin’s church gave me and the other Shirley grandma (yes there are two of us) large gift bags full of things to help us in the surgery waiting room. I dare not eat all that they gave me on my Lumen low carb diet, but the thought was clearly expressed that they understand. A book to read, and reminders of scripture promises help me to know where my thoughts should be directed.

As sometimes happens, when we need it least, the trouble of sickness adds to an already critical time. One of Julia’s coworkers came down with covid. Our exchange student is suddenly beset with sore throat and cold symptoms. We are disinfecting everything and trying to avoid germs. Every time we feel a cough or a sneeze we wonder if we’re getting a virus that will complicate things on Thursday. Kevin doesn’t feel 100% well, and this morning Gwennie is a little “snuffly”. This too is something God knows.

Someday it will be important for GwennieRu to read this and know how she was cherished by God and her people. But for now, one more day of waiting and then, the day of surgery.

The Arm Around My Shoulder

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They were walking together, away from me, toward their car. They were talking as they went, and he put his arm around her shoulder and leaned in a bit. They laughed.

Sitting at the restaurant, they were talking again with some affectionate teasing in progress. There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other, and then they leaned toward each other for a quick kiss.

Those are the kind of moments I miss. I have to admit that it’s not only since my husband has died that I miss those kinds of interactions. I knew my husband loved me but those particular gestures were not his style. He blessed me in other ways, and to be fair, I probably never gave him a clear ask for the things I missed.

Now that there is no one to ask, I’m more aware of my desire to be on a team with someone who loves me. I love teamwork. I enjoy being valued for my contributions. I want to be loved and enjoyed just because I’m on the team, being myself, contributing or not.

In this phase of my life, I’m paying more attention to what my chosen belief system says about being alone, as a widow. The references to widowhood in my instruction manual jump out at me. I underline them and do serious thinking about them.

“A father of the fatherless and a judge and protector of the widows, is God in His holy habitation. God makes a home for the lonely…”

“But he will establish and protect the boundaries of the widow.”

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

My question is, how would someone of the spirit world put his arm around someone of the mortal world? How would that look? How should someone in the mortal world look at someone in the spirit world and then offer a kiss? How is it possible to have that kind of relationship with someone you can’t physically see, hear or touch? Can it possibly be as satisfying as a physical relationship? Could it be more satisfying?

I am in a relationship with God. Unlike the way I did it with my husband, I’m clearly asking Him for those signs – that arm around the shoulder, those inside jokes, the teamwork kiss. My goal going forward, is to notice how he responds. I want to be part of the team and learn how to love him back.

THE ARM AROUND MY SHOULDER

This week I needed to finish up my yearly car registration. It was complicated by needing to change my license plate from light truck to passenger car. I had tried to do it online the year before but couldn’t find the path to doing it and ran out of time. This year I had an online form filled out, ready to mail in, but was troubled by being required to send the title to my car out, with the form, to some government office where it would probably sit for weeks.

On a whim, I decided to stop in to the local DMV to ask if this was normal procedure. It was a Monday when that office is usually swamped, with long lines, and grumpy people waiting their turn. As I drove up, I saw no cars in the parking lot and was about to leave thinking they were closed. There was no notice on the door and it was open. I walked in and, for the first time in my life for any DMV I’ve ever visited, there was no one else in the office other than two clerks behind the counter, waiting for me.

I explained my situation and the lady kindly told me that she would be able to solve that for me right there. Both of the clerks worked through the process together and in 10 minutes I walked out with a new license plate and registration paid through January 2025. It’s a license plate I have already been able to memorize because it has my age in it. How sweet.

It’s time to lean in. Just sayin’…

No longer falsely labeled.

God’s Best Color

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Recently I was invited to an evening of discussion. I think it was planned primarily to expose people to differing opinions and give them experience talking about those opinions in thoughtful and civil ways. Gathered around a long table in a candlelit room, we were representing a wide variety of age groups, political opinions, and faith backgrounds.

One of the opening statements was “we have lost the dinner table, and we have lost the front porch”, places where people used to find each other and talk. That in itself was worth thinking about and acting upon. It sounded true to me. The evening got more interesting as we worked our way through a good meal and numerous topics.

One of the discussions started with this proposal.

Blue is the best color in God’s creation because it is calming in all its hues.

Many of us present may have been thinking that it was a very superficial subject to discuss when we could have been solving world problems. In addition the proposal had words like “best” and “all” and “God’s creation” that begged for dissent and wasted time. Looking back, I see it as a clever proposal because of those very characteristics. Blue was going to become more important than I had expected.

You see, I like blue. A lot. I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite color, but as the moderator pointed out, most of us in the room were wearing something blue. We talked about what makes something “best”. We talked about the effects of certain light waves on the physical body and emotions associated with color. We talked about hues of blue that might not be calming (does the phrase “black and blue” calm you?). Were there some strong opinions on the subject? Yes, there were.

I had already talked enough on other subjects that I was feeling a little self conscious. I wanted to say some things about this one too, but decided to listen. Instead, I am writing now to tell you what I think about that proposal.

Oddly, I have thought about that very subject many times because I am outdoors a lot, in places where there is a lot of blue sky and blue water. My outdoor world is overwhelmingly blue, green, with snatches of grey, black and brown, all colors that I find easy on my eyes and psyche. They are, for the most part, colors that calm me, and add to my comfort level. Green is my favorite. I have often been thankful that blue and green are so easy to look at.

It is autumn. Here in Hayward, Wisconsin, there are a few weeks in September and October when there is still a lot of blue sky and water but most everything green becomes something else. There is blazing orange, glowing yellow, and vivid red among the dark green pines. The contrast is breathtakingly beautiful.

Green, yellow, green, orange… over and over again.
Seemingly on fire!

But the thought always occurs to me, what if the forests were that color all year long? What if I had to live under an orange sky continually? I have to question what the world would be like if it were full of colors that make us hungry and aggressive (they say…). Wouldn’t it feel kind of hot?

And then I am thankful for blue, and I think the choice was probably on purpose by a wise Creator. Blue is the best color for the places where he put it. All the other colors are best for where he put them. He made a beautiful blue planet for us, but also gave us other colors to make us happy, because he could. That’s pretty cool.

And now I’ve said my piece about the color blue.

My brother’s beautiful red maple, every year. It makes me happy.

So Many Questions

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Today I am doing some reading in the book of Judges, in the Holy Bible. I love scripture and believe it is one way in which God tells us things we need to know, so don’t get me wrong when I say that it quite often confuses me. I read it anyway, for the parts that aren’t confusing.

There is the story of Samson mid way through this book. He was an Israelite during a time when the country was being persecuted by another tribe of people, the Philistines. God used him to provide some relief for Israel. Even though he did some very dumb things, overall, he paid the Philistines back for all their evil deeds.

One of his early accomplishments was burning down a good many of the Philistines fields of grain. He went to a lot of work to do this, and this is where my questions start overwhelming me.

“So he went out and caught three hundred foxes.” I stop reading and can’t go any further. Three hundred foxes? How do you “catch” a fox? Where do you find 300 of them? Are they just everywhere, like rabbits? Where do you keep them while you’re catching them? Does no one notice when you finally get 300 and have them in your barn, or wherever? No one complains, not even your parents?

“He then fastened a torch to every pair of tails, lit the torches and let the foxes loose in the standing grain of the Philistines.” Wow, I try to think how I would orchestrate a project like this. Would I take two foxes at a time to a field? How would I get them to stand still while I tied a torch between their tails? What would I tie them with? Should I muzzle them while I’m doing the prep, probably…

Or do I tie all their tails together with torches attached while I’m still at home, and then transport them all at once? In my fox wagon. Once I start, I’ll probably have to do it quickly or someone will try to stop me.

My only conclusion is that this project would take a good deal of prayer first, but I don’t think Samson did that. He apparently was a bit of a hot head.

The most telling statement about this story is found early in the narrative, and is in parenthesis. “(His parents did not know this was from the Lord, who was seeking an occasion to confront the Philistines; for at that time they were ruling over Israel.)” There you have it. Miraculous intervention. There’s no other explanation that I can think of.

The way I see it, there is a principle involved in today’s reading. For me, it is – when something is “of the Lord” you might not see it coming. God, who invented imagination in the first place, is still way better at it than any of us.

The Last Day (of 2022)

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My “second brain” planner

Most every year, during the month of December, I carry two planners around with me. One is for the present year, and one is for the year to come because I am often planning ahead. That’s what planners are for. The last day of December often finds me closing out one and looking back over the fading year. I am doing that today.

The first half of the year was filled with quiet routine. The husband was housebound except for a few rides in the car and a restaurant meal now and then. We had a regular habit of reading in the mornings and sharing thoughts on what we’d read. Evenings often included him getting a wheelchair ride around the community.

I enjoyed the seasons – skiing in the winter, gardening in the spring and, most of all, planning for our August family reunion.

While family was arriving in late July, the husband had a stroke. Before that time I often wondered how his diagnosis of Lewy Body dementia would play out. He was obviously experiencing symptom progression but so slowly. I thought he was dependent on me in some ways, but little did I realize that being able to walk at all, and being able to eat are very independent activities. He was still doing those things at will, and amusing himself during the day with tv, phone calls, and books.

The stroke took all of that away. What followed was 25 days in ICU, 5 days in a step down unit, 49 days in acute care rehab hospital, 26 days in skilled care rehab, and 24 days in a nursing home. I’ve been sitting here with my planner counting up the days and marking the events. Most of these places were 90 minutes away from home. The last was only half an hour away. I’ve put thousands of miles on the car. I was weary of traveling and welcomed bringing him home. This is his 29th day at home, the 17th day under hospice care.

I am the primary caregiver, although we do have around 15 hours of care each week from CNAs hired privately. That is the summary of the second half of 2022 for the husband and me. It’s been a year to remember.

I can’t say that I have felt like writing much during this time. Occasionally it has been an emotional release. I might also like to have record of what we have gone through, at some later date when memory fails me. But much of it I would like to forget. Ten years ago I would not have imagined living the life I have now.

Should I say something about God and his part in the road we’re on? I see him as having been very patient and understanding of my fatigue, my not want to think deeply, or pray consistently, or immerse myself in scripture every day. In some ways I am numb to those disciplines in much the same way as a young mother with a house full of toddlers. God sees what overwhelms his humans. He sends me out on a “walk and talk” and I will tell you that the natural world has been my lifeline this year.

Lots of privacy out here and a real sense of who I am praying to as I walk. No denying he has a sense of beauty.

He sits with me when I cry. He gives me words for the husband when calming and encouragement is needed. When action is called for he has given me the thought of what must be done and the energy to do it. He has given me assurance about all the confusing and uncertain things – that I can trust him and decide not to fear, not to blame.

Many friends have said they are praying for us, and have reminded me of that often. That has weight with me. This is not the first time that prayer has been important to me, but still it is a mystery how God uses it. I want to be involved in that mystery, not necessarily to understand it, but just to have a part in it. Somehow God attaches great power to prayer and I love to see him be powerful , up close and personal.

I think it was good that we asked God for healing for Dennis. Why would we not? But it is also okay that he has not been healed because perfect health is not the only blessing God can bring with a hard experience. And we have always known that we will die at some time – it’s just the end part of being human. We will not waste the experience by becoming bitter or turning away from the most exciting relationship humanity has ever been offered. No, neither Dennis nor I feel any disappointment with God, or the way he has exhibited his friendship with us.

He has been “with” us. Sometimes he has been a peaceful presence on my walks. Sometimes he has sent others to us to spend time or offer help. I’m often told that I’m not alone and have felt like saying “Well, I feel pretty alone in spite of what you say.” But now I receive that differently. God puts that sentiment on the lips of others to remind me that he is with me, even when people are not. That’s enough. He is not named “Immanuel” for no reason.

Thoughts in the Night

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So many thoughts come when I’m awake at night, usually waiting for a headache to resolve, praying because I cannot sleep. Those times are not necessarily bad, even very sweet once in a while.

People come to my mind, one after the other, and I realize how rich my life is with a wide variety of friends. Circumstances come to mind and I realize how complex the world is. Everywhere there are situations that make people suffer and cry. Some say that God, if there is such an entity, should step in and make it different. I’ve read in the Bible that it was different once, and the people of that time chose to trust their own decisions instead of the wise instructions they’d been given. Turns out that has been a prevailing trend ever since.

I’m amazed that there is so much hope, beauty, encouragement left in the world and it often steps into view when we need it most. That is not an accident. It’s the plan, to lead us back to the way it was, eventually. No one but an all powerful God is going to bring about a world that we will all want to live in. It’s too far beyond any world leader or government. I am encouraged because I see evidence of his forethought and control everywhere in nature. The question becomes, how then shall I wait?

What hope do you have if you cannot imagine there is a God who could be wise enough to solve our problems, who could dissolve the anger and hate in hearts, who could comfort the inconsolable and bring justice to both sides of every equation?

It is arrogance to think that because we cannot imagine something, it cannot exist. Our search should be for a better, more faith filled imagination.

There is more beauty this fall than I remember seeing, ever. Maybe it is just because I am driving through miles and miles of it nearly every day. It puts me in awe and strengthens me for the coming months of winter.

Thoughts I Didn’t Plan on Thinking

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Today we are in my brother’s truck having a rare family road trip. It’s a change for me not to be driving. It leaves me free to look out the window at the gray, somewhat foggy fall day. The leaves are turning but the colors are muted and dull. There is still a lot of green out there so maybe we’ll have a better autumn brilliance in a few more days.

We are going to Eau Claire, a small city two hours away, to visit Chippewa Valley Eye Clinic. An ophthalmologist/plastic surgeon has been working on Mom’s right eyelid after removing a small basal cell carcinoma. This is our fourth visit due to complications of the surgery and repair. Mom has been struggling with ointments, painful eyes, poor vision and a sense of being really tired of this whole process. We don’t know what to anticipate today.

We have so many medical options for anything that goes wrong with our bodies these days. And things do go wrong sooner or later – that is a given. There are many decisions to be made because of this, some we make for ourselves and some others make for us. Swirling all around these calls for decision are issues like the value of life, quality of life, the comparison of one life over another, our views of death and suffering and medical accountability. It’s deep water and not fun to navigate.

This week I was sitting in my husband’s hospital room as he slept. In the common room where I could see and hear them, a family was sitting with their youngish looking son who had obviously been in an accident of some kind resulting in brain trauma. Like my husband, he was there for intense rehab and he was showing good improvement. I had a moment of guilt as I compared him to my elderly husband, with numerous comorbidities, struggling to show progress at all who was taking up a valuable bed in the facility. I felt sorry for the doctor who had to decide to move my husband out to a nursing home for rehab, and I understood what she had to consider. Because we’re having trouble finding another suitable place, he is still here at Miller Dwan in that bed.

My husband spends time thinking about what purpose God could have for him that he was allowed to survive this stroke. He is so tired, and to look at him on some days, you might think he was half dead already. I think he looks half dead, which makes me get busy waking him up, shaving the stubble, sitting him up and telling him to open his eyes before the next therapist arrives. I want him to look valuable, hopeful, worthy of the time and effort they are putting into his rehabilitation. He has indicated he wants that and I am his advocate. It’s a job.

I’ve asked him to think about what he would want if he were to have another stroke. Would he want to go through again what he’s experienced the last two months? He said he hadn’t thought about it. How can that be? He has so much time to think. So many things happen to us because we can’t imagine what we might have to decide, but now he knows and doesn’t have to imagine.

Last week there was an article in the local paper by Garrison Kieller of Prairie Home Companion fame. He also had recently been hospitalized and had experienced many feelings my husband recognized, a lot of mention of bodily functions. He had a good laugh when I read the article to him. Helplessness and dependency is not just happening to Dennis Dietz. And at some point, it could easily happen to any one of us.

I’m thinking about my future, although I know there’s no getting “control” over this realm. It seems to help me to do mental role playing around the possibilities, that way I’m not completely surprised by some of what actually happens. My choices play into my future so I try to make good ones (most of the time) but my best choice has been in believing that God is in control, and that he doesn’t plan on wasting any of my experiences. I can accept that hardship is part of life, and that circumstances can be beyond awful at times. Endurance is needed but there is help along the way in many forms. My belief is that the outcome is good, and it is sure. Just sayin’…

Apology to My Friend

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So, Jesus, I know an apology is not the same as a gift, but it’s a start. I really have a hard time thinking of what to give someone who has pretty much everything, including my heart. It’s because I love you so much that I feel the need to apologize. You see, the other night when someone on the stage opened the mike to anyone who had something to say about you, about what you had done in their life, suddenly I couldn’t think of what to say.

I’m hardly ever at a loss for words, but it caught me off guard. As the seconds ticked off in a very awkward, silent way I got really stressed. It was looking like you hadn’t been doing anything, which is so not true. A person finally credited you with a healing, and another with your saving acts on the behalf of persecuted Christians but somehow that paralyzed me even further. What could I possibly mention to match that kind of dramatic “bigness”?

It’s true that there isn’t a great deal of drama in my life, but I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re protecting me. You are keeping your promises to me, especially that one about not giving me more than I can handle. But thank you that you also give me just enough adventure and excitement to make me feel alive and blessed. You know I need that! Thank you for knowing me so well.

This week has given me a lot of time to think about all the things you do for me, with me, and to me that are common but so significant. You don’t do them just on rare occasions but dozens of times every day. They are the “small” things that should not be discounted or despised. They are the bulk of your work in my life. I get so used to you being there, on the job for me, that I forget how to talk about it.

You haven’t seen fit to take away all my problems, but you’ve given me a view of them that cuts them down to size. Honestly, how can I even get upset about pandemics, politics, personalities, or ANYTHING when I know you are in charge? I don’t. Thank you for handling all those things so I can rest and be content. I know you’ve got me.

Next time I will be ready. It’s like the equivalent of an “elevator speech” isn’t it? I will be ready to say the important things about you, to give testimony like a good witness of your kindness, your love, your generosity, your great skill, your saving power, your graciousness in accepting apologies (like this one). Thank you so much. I love you.