I put this first just to get your attention. Read to the end for the story.
Over a week at home since a wonderful trip up north and I still have not had time to write down the memories and reflect on them. It was our Thanksgiving trip and since I think we would all agree that it doesn’t make sense to limit being thankful to one day of the year, I’m thankful again today! Thanks to Florida daughter Julie, who shared the trip with us and to all our hosts and fellow celebrants in Hayward. I love you Mom and Dad, Denny and Mary Pat, Evan, Claire, Scruffy and Socks, Bob and Ozzie, Gary, Jamie, Eduardo, Jonathan and the Madison sisters Michelle, Judith and Susan. It might better be done with pictures so here goes…
Before the feast – one of our two tables with Mom’s birthday flowers as the centerpiece.During the feast. Way too much food, but this is one of the things we remember about Thanksgiving, right?After the feast. My Dad doesn’t cook. Thankfully, he does take dish washing and clean up as his main responsibility. Go Dad!
And for the second year in a row, the snow fell heavily. We spent time in the woods, skiing, snowshoeing, and driving the unplowed fire lanes in Brother Bob’s four wheel drive truck. You cannot imagine how beautiful it was unless you live in the north and see it for yourself.
Brother Bob and Jullia and yes the backdrop is REAL and REALLY COLD.
The skiing style is cross country, which is not to say that there aren’t hills, you just have no lift to pull you up them. An international ski event, the American Birkebeiner, is held in the Hayward area on this beautiful, well maintained trail – 26 miles through forest and field. We spent some time on a small section of it and warmed up afterward in the shelter, and then, of course, it was time for latte’s and hot chocolate at the Mooselip Cafe. You saw the moose himself in the opening picture.
Skis on JulieSnowshoes on Mary PatSnow on treesHappy snow people…Best place to come after skiing!
Well, I read this and found several new ways of thinking that I can use on the husband. Due to work schedules we have been “ships passing in the night” the last few days and should probably spend some time together this week. I’ll have to remember to talk to him like I talk to the cat. I don’t think I’ve ever talked mean to the cat. Well, maybe once… just sayin’.
Whether you’re a big holiday shopper or a minimalist, here’s one gift your spouse is guaranteed to enjoy.
There’s no need to wrap it and plenty of opportunity to use it.
This year, give your partner a break.
Fifteen minutes late? Think: Oh, she had a hard time getting out of the office. Snappish tone? Think: he must need a hug and some TLC.
Too often, we look at our spouse through the worst possible lens: She’s so inconsiderate. He’s such a stickler for detail. We go to always and never, turning isolated instances into sweeping generalizations, seeing everyday annoyances as evidence of character flaw.
Some of the most unhappy couples I know keep close tabs on their partner’s transgressions, stockpiling their missteps to be used as ammunition. They’re all over each other’s shortcomings and regularly air their displeasure — giving each other the clear message that they’re being…
There are fourteen of us tonight. Tomorrow there will be more for the big meal. Our family does this frequently, big gatherings, reunions, and we have expectations. People will take turns making the meals since we are usually together for several days. We will take turns shopping for groceries and washing the dishes. Beds have been scouted out and stashes of blankets and pillows have been scattered around the houses where we are gathering. We want to be together, as many of us as can make it, because of one thing we agree on – we are thankful for family.
the reigning seniors and responsible parties
I am always a little surprised to hear that many people find us odd, a family that enjoys getting together. Many people do not have this kind of tradition or this kind of family. My mom and dad are the reigning seniors. There is my generation consisting of myself and three of my brothers and their families. And then there is the youngest generation, our children, ranging from fourteen to mid thirties in age. They are students, prospective parents, house flippers, a veterinarian, a geologist, an aeronautical engineer, a vegan, a hunter, There is a lot of news to exchange and the place buzzes with conversation.
Food is always being prepared or consumed or both. It seems one meal is barely finished before the next one needs to be started. There is no room in the fridg. This year Jon is sharing some vegan recipes with us. Brother Bob has brought ingredients for his famous muffin breakfast. Mom has been baking cookies, pies and cranberry bread for weeks. There is a “happy” turkey (happy while alive, not so much now). The kitchen is not very large and it is always full of people. We make at least five full pots of coffee a day. We don’t fit around one table very well, although it is a huge table.
Thanksgiving Day
My family is staying in a snug 2 bedroom condo a few yards away from the one my parents live in. My mom is an early riser and when she’s up and making the first pot of coffee for the day she turns on the outside lights. I wait for that signal before going over for a moment of quiet reflection and planning. Since FOOD is going to be the name of the game most of the day, she had a breakfast casserole ready for the oven. Loaves of bread and bagels were ready by the toaster. It wasn’t long before the crowd assembled – and then the food was gone. Fortunately we have a nearly seamless way of moving on to the next eating experience.
There was a brief break in the eating while we made a call to my aunt in Florida to sing happy birthday to her. Actually we sang it twice – once on her voice mail and one live performance when she called back. She is 90 and knows how to use a cell phone. Kudos.
.I am so glad the younger crowd embraces cooking with gusto. I am so glad that Walmart is open on the holiday. No matter how much planning takes place, with this many people, something is always missing or running out. After a trip to the store the kitchen was again crowded with Jon, Jamie and Julie turning out Buffalo Cauliflower, Killer Veggie Tray and Guacamole Supreme. The turkey got bathed, dried, seasoned and placed in the oven to cook, leaving room for the Tofurkey to slide in beside it later. The dressing was mixed up and put in the crock pot. The potatoes were pealed. The pies were set out to thaw.
a moment in the constant flow of food prepwash, peel, chop, arrange, cook, stir, EATpotatoes enough for an army
1:30 pm
The football game is underway, accompanied by football food. Today we do not have hunger to tell us what time of day it is. Everyone has their favorite snack and drink and we are hoping that the continual trickle of food does not hamper our enjoyment of the grand finale. My latest “chore” was getting the next jigsaw puzzle prepared for the afternoon. It is a tradition at our gatherings to do puzzles and we have done two already. There is a bonding that takes place between those willing to devote hours to staring at little pieces of cardboard. We know who we are. The last one was 2,000 pieces and we could hardly fit it on the table. This next one is only 1500 and I’m hoping it will last through the evening.
this was an awesome puzzle!!
My brother who lives in this area has left to be with his wife’s family as they celebrate the holiday a few miles away. Somehow a miracle will happen and they will eat two Thanksgiving dinners back to back. I am in the quiet of my condo, me and the turkey.
There is no end to the things I am thankful for. How is all this possible? It is not a matter of deserving this plenty, this comfort, safety and fellowship. There are many others who should have more, but don’t. I also have to consider that we may not always have what we have now. But while we have it, let us not forget to be grateful and generous. The memory of these times, precious times, might be what sustains us in the future. I’m just sayin’ it’s best we pay attention.
I can only imagine what it is like to live in such danger, where there is so much suffering. It is good for us to see real people, real faces and have new awareness of what is happening…
The White Helmets – or the Syrian Civil Defence – are volunteer rescue workers in the most dangerous place on earth. As the conflict in Syria worsens, ordinary people are paying the highest price. More than 50 bombs and mortars a day land on some neighborhoods in Syria. Many are rusty barrels filled with nails and explosives, rolled out the back of government helicopters onto homes, schools and hospitals.
“To be able to understand accurately the damage and the threat and the devastation of the disaster in Syria, they are having a 7.6 earthquake 50 times a day”
– Dundar Sahin, Director, Akut Institute of Training and Research, Turkey
When this happens The White Helmets rush in to search for life in the rubble – fully aware that more bombs may fall on the same site.
These volunteers have saved 10,221 lives in the past year alone – and this…
I love animals. I am in awe of their endless variety, the ways that they can interact with us humans, the comfort they can give, the lessons they can teach, their surprising intelligence (once we learn how to detect it), and the love and devotion they show. They are enough like us that it is scary at times and I am never more aware of this than when I look into my cat’s eyes. She meets my gaze and we have a moment of reading each other’s thoughts – or so it seems.
I say “my cat” (and she would probably agree) but in reality she was rescued by my daughter Julia. As the story goes, she was found wandering in some parking lot in Orlando, Florida as a kitten. Kittens do not survive well in parking lots, so my daughter, who is a rescuer by nature, brought her home and she became our cat. She had a few names, however the one that stuck, because it was easy to remember, was Gray Kitty. Not very imaginative, but it worked.
Years later when Julia moved away to attend veterinary school, she took two of her cats with her but left Gray Kitty with me. I didn’t mind. I haven’t seen very many cats that are as beautiful and pleasant to look at as Gray Kitty. Gray is a nice color to begin with, plus the added attraction of white feet and bib, topped off with white whiskers and brilliant green eyes – there is a pretty cat. Most of the time her voice was tiny, quiet and responsive. I would say her name and she would answer. I would enter the room and she would acknowledge me. I would pick her up and she would start purring immediately and not stop until I put her down. For a cat, she was sensible and seldom caused trouble or worried me.
Her eyes are really green, not red.I know you guys are eating. I know you can’t ignore me…
There was a season in my work life when I would come home exhausted every day, barely able to make it to the recliner. No matter where she was in the house, the sound of the recliner being stretched out would have her in my lap within seconds. She would get comfy in her feline manner, and settle down for “our nap”.
She learned that kitchen noises were associated with food, for her and for us. She learned the art of silent begging. When we would finally sit at the table, she had her spot close by where she could fix her eyes on us and dare us to ignore her. She loved drinking out of the bathroom sink. She loved being outside.
And now she has gotten old, and don’t I know how that feels! We have more in common than ever. But she has also fallen ill with kidney disease. Her appetite has waned and in the last few weeks she has hardly eaten anything in spite of special food, constantly available. She is as light as a feather. Her calls, or cries, have become different and more plaintive. She often sits or stands in odd places with a dazed look on her face, and sometimes loses her balance. She is failing. These kinds of things do not improve. The pain of seeing her suffer is at war with the pain of deciding to stop her suffering and I feel the weight of decision. It is heavy.
One of the hardest things for me in my relationship with God is knowing when he’s telling me something. I’m sitting in the physical, trying to hear from the spiritual and honestly, I need more practice at it to be sure what I’m hearing.
The husband has been a member of a community band for years. It takes quite a bit of his time and is really his one and only hobby. He plays trumpet, helps on the board, and with their website and talks about band, band, band all the time. I’m not a band music type of person, although I can usually find something to enjoy about any music played well. I have been to quite a few of his concerts over the years but lately I have felt more selfish with my time. I have many things I enjoy doing as much (more) than listening to marches and show tunes.
Today there is a fall concert, and I would say that the husband has been a tiny bit stressed out about it. I had not discussed with him whether I would go or not. He left early to be there for a practice and warm up. I was at home wanting very much to have a lovely quiet afternoon. Unfortunately, I have found that often in that situation I begin to have persistent thoughts that maybe I should be doing something else. Like, maybe going to a concert in support of the husband. Is this the voice of God testing my willingness to listen? Is this an overzealous conscience fueled by guilt? Hmmm… what are the chances?
So here I am at the concert (painfully early I might add), which I know will probably make the husband happy.
It’s possible it wasn’t God talking but he knows that I thought it might be him, so I think he’s happy too. It strikes me as the kind of thing God would do to surprise both the husband and me, so in that way I am looking forward to how this will turn out. And what can it hurt? I feel sort of blessed already, I’m just sayin’…
When you think about it, it’s a rare thing to step into someone else’s life and live there for a few days when they are not there. It’s a little surreal in fact. This week I am still me, but I am living as a “stand in” for my brother and his wife while they are gone on a well deserved anniversary trip. This morning after sleeping in their bed, with their dog, I got up and watched the sky get light from my sister-in-law’s favorite chair in her second story bedroom.
My brother’s house and the upstairs bay window that looks to the east – love it.
I walked over to my parents house for my first cup of coffee for the morning, and then back to have breakfast with my brother’s two children Claire and Evan. Today they are starting the week’s schoolwork which is scheduled in detail for them. They study at home and I’m warned there might be questions about algebra, geometry and writing.
My nephew and the dog studying together.
My brother and his wife have a genuine interest in their children and their children’s friends. They invite a small group of teens from their church over to their house every other week – yesterday was the day for that and my brother explained how he hated to cancel it just because they weren’t going to be home. So he didn’t. I am glad my brother isn’t afraid to freak me out, and I’m thankful God keeps me calm and trusting when I’m challenged.
Evan and I went shopping Saturday and got healthy snacks and he cleaned up the family room in preparation. What a responsible guy! After church on Sunday, Evan and I got into the van and I sat waiting for the rest of the kids to come out and join us, I didn’t realize they were already seated behind us until one of them asked me what i was waiting for. What a quiet, well-behaved group! (this really happened).
At the house they had a great time cutting up apples and making hot chocolate. They spent half an hour eating and talking with each other, half ah hour listening to me talk about my experiences with teens in Cambodia, and half ah hour playing a game while waiting for their parents to pick them up. They were respectful to me, kind and encouraging to each other and still looked like they were having a lot of fun. What a refreshing look at today’s youth!
Getting ready to play Dutch Blitzthe game gets crazy…
The family dog really misses my sister-in-law. He is a lap dog and it’s almost like having a baby in the house – one that wants to be held all the time. He is getting used to me though, as is the family cat. This morning they were both giving me “the stare” as I started doing things in the kitchen. The water bowl was empty and they seemed to know how to get someone to fill it. As i said, the dog sleeps quietly all night on the bed with me, and yesterday he took me for a walk too. What a sweet dog!
Scruffy, taking Aunt Shirley for a walkMore of what we saw on our walk, the dog and I.
It’s all good so far and I fully expect the rest of the week to go smoothly. I suppose it’s partly a case of extra good behavior to go easy on Aunt Shirley, and that’s okay, but mostly I think it’s a blessed life that I’ve stepped into and get a chance to live in, for a few days. What an interesting opportunity!
I love birch trees.I love autumn.I really love autumn!I love this silhouette of a martin house against the sky!I love water scenes.
It doesn’t last long but is all the more beautiful for it’s transitory nature. We drove slowly, turning down every beckoning lane that showed color. This is the north woods at it’s finest and our celebration of the first day of the Feast of Tabernacles.
I’m all cared out for today. The trouble is I’m going on a ten day trip in the morning. I should be packing, but I don’t care. I’m going to do it differently and just not pack anything. I’m going to get up in the morning, get dressed and go to the airport. I’ll take my computer and my night mouth guard. Maybe some underwear.
Will this have consequences in the following week? Maybe, maybe not. That’s why it will be a great experiment.
It will be nice not to have luggage while I’m traveling.
I can wear the same thing all week. I can go to the thrift shop. It will be fun. Maybe it won’t be fun.
This week I have not called my mom. I have not called my daughters. I have not done any writing. I have not done the laundry or cleaned the house. I have hardly been at home. I started a new caregiver assignment that turned out to be quite challenging.
Even young people can have a hard time when they are weak and sick, but being that way when you are elderly is worse. It is a pit of helplessness. My friend Jack is in that pit. I don’t know if I can help him climb out but I know I can’t just leave him there either.
After spending seven months either in the hospital having surgery, or fighting infections, or getting his diabetes regulated, or in rehab trying to get his strength back – he is finally at home. He was giddy with excitement when they brought him out to evaluate his home for safety. It wasn’t that any of the institutions were bad places. He had just had enough of the routines, of professional friends, of hospital furniture, of TV on the ceiling. He dreamed of the peace and quiet of home.
In spite of having a nurse manager, an occupational therapist, a physical therapist, a home health aide and me, medical “girl Friday”, this week at home has made Jack realize that he had some very high expectations. Meals don’t appear magically at home. Messes don’t clean up by themselves. There are no helping hands at home every time you feel a little dizzy or off balance. Home can be a scary place when you are alone, when you fall and can’t get up, when your blood sugar is so low you can’t think straight or have the strength to get out of bed. Help comes and goes, but has often gone when you need it most.
Every day during my time with Jack, we would work on some of the problems he was having, we would have a meal together and then he would nap, pretty much worn out. My five hour stretches were the longest periods of time that anyone was able to be with him. Every time I left, I felt a bit guilty, almost afraid of what I’d find when I returned. I got the impression that he was anxious too, wondering how he would get by.
So, I’ve gotten a chance to watch Jack suffer, mentally and physically. He has had to give up every shred of dignity as we women do things for him that he would much rather do for himself. But I have yet to hear a word of complaint, or even of anger really, Somewhere along his life path, Jack has learned to suffer well. As I watch, I think how valuable an example that is. We all will suffer something, sometime, and have to decide how to view that suffering, how to act when we are in the middle of it. Can we learn and grow from it or is it a waste of time?
I found a caregiver who will stay the night with Jack, starting tonight. As he was meeting her he seemed more hopeful, stronger, more able to talk. Maybe he will work through this hard time and gain his independence once again. At the very least, I think he will get a good night’s rest. I will also rest better tonight.
Have you learned something valuable from a time of suffering in your life? or from watching someone else suffer well?
I Just Have to Say... 