Did You Miss Me, If You Say No, Tell Me A Lie And Say You Did!

Did you miss me? Did you notice I wasn’t on here like I usually am to respond to your replies or even toss in a new blog?

This photo I inserted explains why. One of several trees down.

It was a hot day yesterday, just like being back in Florida.103 degrees, and some humidity.

We spent more time outside cleaning up the yard, then we did in the cool house. Why? Because I am silly. I knew there were chances of rains coming and I wanted to have the yard picked up prior to the storm. It was supposed to be a storm coming out of Chicago with lots of rain, which we needed so badly. We have been in a drought for the last month, with all other areas north and south of us getting their required rains, bypassing our area. Did we do something wrong, were we being punished? I promise to be a good girl, if you bring us some rain. Do I need to get out and do the Indian rain dance? Please don’t make me?

My son and his family were down here, and after cleaning up some, they decided to get in the pool for some cooling off and fun. They swam for about an hour, while I swung in the swing just enjoying the day. After they got out, we fixed a summer days lunch, bologna sandwiches, chips and watermelon. We sat around and watched TV and just relaxed.

My son went back outside and noticed the skies were looking a little weird. Darkness was in the far sight in the skies. He came in and told us about it and we all had to get a look at this unusual color of the sky. He turned on his scanner and we heard that an unexpected storm had popped up and was heading our way within minutes. Minutes? No, not minutes, I haven’t had my shower or combed my hair. Please wait!

There was very little time to wait. We proceeded to take the tent down and put this in the shed, and then we took off all of the cushions off the furniture and placed them inside of the gazebo and we lowered that at half mass and tied it down for that level. The one grandson took his and his little brother’s bikes and laid them down flat. Our son moved his John Deere out of harms way

The dark skies turned quickly to green skies. This was to be a wicked storm with sixty mile per hour winds and too big of hail. We had everything done and I went over the plan of where to go inside the house if we got these winds. If they heard me yell, bathrooms, they were to take off for the hills! LOL.

I barely got my words out and saw their heads nod in affirmation of their understanding, when the winds appeared suddenly! A plastic trash can was picked up and tossed through the air, and the trees were bending in a curtsy. I yelled, BATHROOMS! Everyone ran for the house and disappeared into the bathrooms, except me and my son. Al was in his bathroom, and the grandkids were in my bathroom. The lights went out  faster than turning off the switches. The central air was quieted. Silence inside the house, the winds were ripping the trees back and forth. The gazebo was dancing a disco style, flapping its sides, bending too and fro. We could hear hail bouncing off the windows, and the house actually shook from the winds. I was reminded of the tornado I was in when I was at church camp scared, but because I prayed for my family and home, I wasn’t afraid this time.

As fast as this monster came it left. I called a, you can all come out now from hiding,and we all ventured outside to have a look. No damages in my own yard, but right behind us was this tree. One of a few trees that were uprooted. The photo is above for you to see also.

We started picking up big branches and twigs. I looked at the clock and it was getting time for Al’s medications and his supper. We still had no power, so we all jumped in our cars and went to Wal-Mart for a while. Al is on a new collecting habit, replica cars, vintage style. This was the first isle we seeked out, and of course, he picked one out. I got him a new sleeveless shirt. As he is losing muscle and weight, we buy him more clothes more often now. After leaving the store we went to KFC to eat supper, but it was closed, due to no electricity. We noticed that whole section had no street lights working and no business was open anywhere. We made our way to the opposite side of town, and boy, was it crowded everywhere.

I didn’t know what to do, Al needed his meds, I had no electricity at home, and people were lined up outside the doors at the few restaurants we passed. My quick thinking told everyone that we stop at Wendy’s. Al likes Wendy’s and I would just take him ahead and sit him down at some empty seats to wait for us to get through the line. The two grandchildren, sat with him so they were helping out a lot, by saving a few tables for us. Al would never had made it five minutes waiting in line, he would have collapsed right there from his weakness from Parkinson’s.

We finally got to be waited on and took all the food to the tables where they were waiting for us. We ate and talked about the storm damages. Everyone else in hearing distance were also talking about the same thing.

After supper we came home and there was no electricity as of yet. There was still daylight left, so we sat outside and just chatted, but darkness kept creeping nearer.  We talked about what it was like in the 1900′s and what they did and how they lived without central air, Tv, and computers. This made us think about the game badminton. My son went to his house and got his generator, and when he came back, he hooked this up to a light. We sat the badminton net up and sat Al up beside us in a chair with his diet pop, and we played this game until around midnight.

We had more fun than anytime I can remember of lately. We laughed when we each missed the birdie, and chased after it when we knew it was going to hide in the shadows.

The kids were tired, and so was Al. Still no electricity, we made our way into the house, with a flashlight, and I washed Al up with baby wipes and clean boxer briefs and helped him lie down on the living room couch. My family went home to their own beds, and I smiled as I made my way to my own bed, thanking God for this gift of the needed rain, and to spend hours just laughing with family, and giving me quality time with the ones I love. This storm brought a special rainbow into my life.

The electricity suddenly came back on at seven am this morning. Day light is given back to us. I put the flashlights and candles back in their rightful spots. Al fixes his breakfast, and I take a shower. After his breakfast, I give him his shower. Laundry is started, cleaning is picked up once again. Life goes on, but now I have a reason to smile today. Remembering yesterday.

Free Write Friday, June 29,2012

http://kellieelmore.com

Kellie has given me the opportunity to write this exercise, and I want to thank her for opening my mind.

When it comes to empathy, I feel like I live it without realizing it. Taking care of others is a very rewarding job. You connect with their feelings, you gain the understanding of how they feel and you see what is important to them at this time of their life.

Taking care of my brother, Al, is probably my best test in having empathy. Al is mentally challenged, has heart problems, and also is diagnosed and fighting with Parkinson’s.

I have to be able to climb out of my skin and enter my brother’s soul. It reminds me of the scene in the movie Ghost, where you actually see a film, ghost-type entering and exiting Whoopie Goldberg’s body.

I plan doctor’s appointments, take my brother to all of the appointments, talk with each doctor, and make changes with medications and goals, in order to keep Al feeling his best.

I am constantly thinking of ways to help his day have moments of joy and laughter. We go shopping, that includes only his interests. We go to eat at restaurants, trying to go where he enjoys going.

I clean the house, do his laundry, change his bed sheets, cook his meals, pay his bills, all parts of our daily life skills are practiced here.

Then there are the times in between, when I have to enter his mind, his soul, and his pains. I have to stop my own mental thinking, and imagine what he is going through. Understanding where the tears are stemming from. Imagine how his pain feels. Feel his humility when his body freezes, and help him to walk once again. I have to understand how it feels to try to use a fork or a spoon, to eat, something we have done our entire lives, but now, it becomes a struggle to keep food on the utensils.

Empathy is comprehending that it is alright for him to curse or get mad when food falls to the floor, and he realizes it. When Al wet his pants the other day, I had to instantly transfer myself into his mind, and feel what he felt when he was forced to walk out of the restaurant bathroom and show me his wet pants.

When Al yells at the newscasters on the TV for showing the weather more than once. He calls them idiots, or stupid. He doesn’t understand the aspect of how they show it twice so that more audiences can catch the weather. His mind is simplified, and I need to get inside to understand this and to be able to say something to him, that brings him to the realization, that I get what he is saying.

Dealing with all of these illnesses that are in one body, is a challenge. If this were a job being paid by an employer, I would not be paid too many times, because it is difficult and tests every part of our being. I think this type of work tests the nerves and can cause much stress.

You have to have a heart, compassion and empathy to enter this type of work. It takes transferring your thoughts into their thoughts, the skill of listening, and the passion for understanding. For me, I would not trade it for the highest paying job in the world, and I would not miss out on each day my brother lives. I want him to know that I love him, that I am here for him and that I do my best at understanding his views in life.

Laughter Comes Rarely, But I Found This And Laughed!

You might not know this…but a lot of non-living objects are actually either male or female.

Here are some examples:

	FREEZER BAGS: They are male, because they hold everything in…but you can see right through them.
	PHOTOCOPIERS: These are female, because once turned off….it takes a while to warm them up again. They are an effective reproductive device if the right buttons are pushed…but can also wreak havoc if you push the wrong Buttons.
	TYRES: Tyres are male, because they go bald easily and are often over inflated
	HOT AIR BALLOONS: Also a male object… Because to get them to go anywhere…..you have to light a fire under their arse.
	SPONGES: These are female…because they are soft……squeezable and retain water.
	WEB PAGES: Female…because they’re constantly being looked at and frequently getting hit on.
	TRAINS: Definitely male… Because they always use the same old lines for picking up people..
	EGG TIMERS: Egg timers are female because….over time…all the weight shifts to the bottom.
	HAMMERS: Male….. Because in the last 5000 years…..they’ve hardly changed at all…and are occasionally handy to have around.
	THE REMOTE CONTROL: Female. Ha! You probably thought it would be male…but consider this: It easily gives a man pleasure, he’d be lost without it…and while he doesn’t always know which buttons to push…he just keeps trying

Hot Potato Award

http://jmgoyder.com

Look at this award! I am a Hot Potato tonight!

I think I should feel pretty lucky about this, shouldn’t I?

Doesn’t everyone love potatoes? Fried, baked, mashed, twice baked, french fried, boiled, potato chips. It is the number one side dish that we all love but are too afraid to eat anymore because of carbs.

I have this thing about carbs. I am a diabetic, so I am supposed to watch my carbs and sugars, and salts, and fats. Geesh! I guess I can eat nothing that is good, but lettuce.

I can remember back to my grandparents and even my husband’s grandparents, and see that their number one side dish was potatoes almost every single day. Plus they had meat, and vegetables and even desserts! I realize they worked harder than we do in the present life, but their foods were without chemicals, while ours are loaded. I am no scientist, but there is some connection here between chemicals, added weight, and cancers.

Oh sorry, I am supposed to be giving thanks for my award. So sorry, got sidetracked, once the mouth started drooling over the thought of nice hot buttery mashed potatoes.

The wonderful thing about this award also is, you don’t have to do anything, just accept it!

No hidden things about you to tell, no certain number of nominees. How much easier could it be?

I am going to nominate a few though, because if you are like me, you enjoy a good potato also!

So, drum roll please, louder, applause, whistles for:

iftodaywehear.wordpress.com

Kadeen
deenakdrowaln.wordpress.com

gravatar.com/maxicat1

viveka
mygulitypleasures.wordpress.com

buckwheatsrisk.com

Make sure to go check out Julie at the link above. She is wonderful. She and I share family members who suffer from Parkinson’s Disease.

Thank you Julie!

What Is Your Answer

My sore foot (Photo credit: CCNZ)

She rose to pain when she tried to stand up from her restful sleep. She looked at her foot but saw nothing. She rubbed the bottom of her foot and felt the pain. When she bent her toes, she could feel the bone on the bottom move, and that was where the pain radiated.

She wanted to climb back into bed. She didn’t want to be forced to walk on it, but she knew she had things that she needed to do. People were depending on her, and sickness and not feeling well were excluded for good reasons to pass the time away lying down.

She tried standing on it again, and realized she could move, but the pain  could be seen in her facial features with each step. Through out the day, people came in and out of her life, no one paying any attention to the limping woman.

Sally was a waitress, and a darn good one, but today, she wanted someone to wait on her. Sally had too much pride to bring up the topic of her pain to the customers, so she kept quiet. During her shift, she managed to do her job, but on her break she went to the back room of the building and sat on a box and pulled off her shoe and sock. The bottom of her foot was cherry red, and the burning felt like someone had lit a match to her foot.

Sally knew where she had gone wrong, but this was after the fact, and there was nothing to do now but wait for the pain to diminish. She had went shopping the evening before, and instead of wearing her shoes and socks, she wore flip-flops. Not enough support for diabetic feet, but she wanted her feet to be free. It was hot and humid, and she chose not to do the right thing.

Right after lunch, there was to be a woman who came into work to relieve her, but this didn’t happen, as her boss told her the woman had called off due to illness. Sally had to stay. She went into the bathroom and took her shoe and sock off again, and cried out to no one listening. She was telling the pain to please leave. She left it open to the air for a few minutes, then got herself back a presentable look and went back to work.

Finally, it was time to clock out. She had done it, she had finished her job. She punched out and walked the two blocks home. When she got home, family was in the yard swimming, and I could hear the kids laughing. They all seemed to be having a good time. Sally waved to them as she went inside her house. She ran herself a bath and soaked her tired and achy body. Her feet seemed to be telling her thank you as some of the pain left.

She had finished her bath, and put on her house robe and was sitting in her favorite recliner, when the grandchildren came running in the door, soaking wet, and started to sit down on the furniture. Sally told them to go back outside and dry off before coming in, and the kids listened, giving her more time to relax.

About a  half an hour went by and Sally had just dozed off, and the door flung open and they all entered. They were hungry, they wanted to know what was for supper. All plopped down in front of the TV and the discussion about food continued.

Sally told them about her sore foot and what a busy day she had at work, and that she wasn’t planning on having anything more than toast and coffee for herself for supper. This hint went over their heads. The talk continued, and eventually Sally knew she had to get up and prepare supper. As she stood up from her recliner, she mumbled under her breath, inconsiderate people, always thinking of themselves. The story ended seeing Sally limping out into the kitchen to yet prepare another meal.

 

What should have happened in this story?

1. Sally should have called off work?

2. Sally should have told the truth to the boss?

3. The family should have been considerate and cooked or ordered take-out?

4. Sally should have told the family off and sent them out the door?

5. Sally should have stayed in bed.

 

Which one of these answers would you choose, and explain why.

Summertime

green beans (Photo credit: Chasqui (Luis Tamayo))

Watermelons, and  strawberry pie

Fresh snapped green beans

Canning and freezing all day long

This is what summer means.

Daylight staying out so long

Kids staying up real late

Figures and salads a perfect pair

For the convertible and a date.

Swimming and camping go together

Bugs are welcome too

Isn’t the summer the best of all

For fun times, me and you.

I Had To Let It Sink In First

I am not really positive on how much about Parkinson’s I want to know. Maybe for me to cope and handle daily issues as they come is better for me.

Today, when I went to the doctor with Al, the doctor was supposed to talk to me about the swallow test. He did check Al with his fingers, probing around the muscles of his throat, and said to me that this was another part of Parkinson’s. He could feel some flex in the throat muscles and he wanted to ask me a question, and then looked at Al.

I am sorry, that I am adding this after the fact that I blogged about it earlier, the doctor visit, but I could not write about this at the time, as it was too sensitive for me at the moment.

I asked Al if he had to use the restroom, and of course he said yes. After Al left the room, the doctor tells me that he has noticed some weakness in the throat area, but am I willing to have a tube feeder placed in Al yet.

I know what tube feeders are. They are used to help feed the body. They also make it nearly impossible to have any kind of normal life. It didn’t take me two seconds to answer the question, no. He explained to me that if the test came back positive, it would change both of our lives, because knowing the tube feeder was in the near future, from the test, and then he closed off the sentence with no ending.

For me it is a whole other chapter, a can of worms to be opened. I am not ready to deal with this yet. There are other alternatives. I don’t want to see Al’s life become useless, alive, lying in a bed, or sitting in a wheelchair, going nowhere. I can’t do it!

Now I understand that the test was not performed, and that even if it was, there was no result as of now for the test.

We talked about a product called thicket, and the doctor thought this was a good alternative for now, so Al and I stopped and picked some up on our way home. I will use it in his beverages, and it will thicken up as much as I allow it to, making it easier for him to swallow. Even as the illness progresses, you can make the drinks so thick, they can be eaten with a spoon.

For me, this is the way to go. It puts the test on hold, and allows it to slip from my mind hopefully within the next couple of days. Time is what I am borrowing, and I will borrow all that I can.

You may be asking, why don’t you just place him. I can’t, not yet. As I said earlier today I cared for others also. Do you know what it is like to give your own father a complete bath? Or to spoon feed him because he is too weak to raise his hand to his mouth? To wipe a way the tears because he is telling you at this moment he is scared he is dying? To sit one day a week for eight hours, and the two of you glance out through the windows, watching cars pass by, and then glance at each other, both realizing this blood transfusion  is what is keeping him alive? To wipe your fathers bottom after he potties because he can no longer do it?

For the first time I am getting it out of me. Talking about it. The terrible pains I went through for love. I divorced easier than watching my father die.  I sat for hours on the porch swing with him, in the summer, him all bundled up in a blanket, and me in a tank top, shorts and barefoot, and I made the swing go because he was too weak to make his feet work. Many times I used a feather bed from a double bed and padded a recliner, set my father in it, and placed pillows under his arms, and legs, and behind his neck, because he couldn’t take the pain of anything touching him. For the last three months, I could no longer hug or kiss my father, as he couldn’t bear the feeling of something touching him.

I took him to every doctor appointment. I talked to insurance companies on a regular basis, fighting for my dad’s rights, while the companies thought nothing of him and only thinking of money they wanted to hang on to. I checked his sugars several times a day, and gave him insulin shots three times a day, as the Prednisone, made his sugars go into the 800-900 ranges. I watched him continually lose weight, and I read the Bible to him. We prayed together, and we cried together. No one came, but maybe twice during this whole time he was ill. I think they were afraid to see him like this.

Now, I am reliving my father all over again, through my brother. I don’t have the responsibilities yet of what I had to do for my dad, but I do know, that while we were eating our supper tonight at Pizza Hut, he pottied all over himself, and this is a sign to me that things will get worse.

I took care of my dad until he died in my arms. I don’t know if I will be able to care for Al this long or not. When my love is strong and the compassion I have for life and people are even stronger, I feel I  can do anything. I will watch over Al and do for him as I did for our father, and when our time is up, I will let him go.

Where Is The Switch?

The Two Doctors (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The easy thing to do is just switch my brain off, and call it a day. Can I do this realistically? No, it still works even though I don’t want it to at times.

I take Al to the doctor today, and all in all it was a good visit. Al only cried the whole time, but no fit throwing or cursing today. He has gained one pound, but I take into consideration, he has had breakfast, but I don’t care if he gains a pound or two, because he is ill, so let’s keep the weight on!

Al has a few doctors that specialize in each of his illnesses. I can deal with this, pretty simple, just carry my schedule book with me whenever it concerns him.

Here lies the issue, the problem that I am having, in knowing which way to turn. Two of his doctors say there is nothing medically to be done to help Al any longer, so they are now considered our PRN  specialist doctors. One of these two doctors, tells us on our last visit, that we need to look at keeping Al as pain-free and comfortable from now on. Also stated, was to take him off some of the medications, and bring him down to just the heart and blood pressure and his one diabetic med.

His family ,primary care doctor, which I took him to today, also went over his list of medications and said he agreed, that the ones that remain, are the ones needed to help him stay alive. He also gives Al a prescription strength pain reliever to start. This is good, I think. Al has much pain 85% of the time, and it is only a once a day pain pill.

Now the doctor sees Alvin crying, and he keeps his eyes on Al as he is talking to me. He is just observing, I am sure, Al’s tremors, and his whole attitude in general. We talk some, using hand talk and shortened words, since we are talking in front of Al, about his Parkinson’s and he comments to me, that Al is a long ways from nearing the end. Wonderful,yes, no, not wonderful, what? what about the other two doctors opinions?, what about the way Al feels about his own life?

I don’t know how to feel, and this makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t want to lose my brother. This is a good thing. I don’t want my brother to be in pain and cry every single day. This is a good thing, I think. There is no medication to help him anymore. I don’t want to see him suffer for years, and on the other hand, Al is so sure he is at his nearing days, and I must explain here because of previous comments made. I am speaking for my brother about his time ending. These are not my thoughts, but his. I am not God, nor do I profess to know our time to leave this earth. Alright, I cleared myself on that one. Of course, I do not want Al to suffer for years to come only to have him here with me. What kind of animal would I be to be that selfish.

So my feelings are twisted right now. Do I play and pretend with Al that he believes his time may be coming close, because he believes this is what God tells him?

Do I listen to the two specialists that believe there in nothing to do anymore medically, and we give Al as much comfort as possible?

Or do I tell Al that he needs to quit thinking like this, and this may not be God speaking to him. This could just be turmoil that is going on inside of his head due to his own fears. Do I tell him to stop, that we are going to stop this talk, and let’s find all the pretty things in life to occupy our minds.

I want to be there for Al. I want to believe the doctors, but which role do I  play and at which times?

Hang on, someone turn the lights on, because I can’t find the switch to my brain, so I can shut if off!

The Path I Followed

I am  having a bored moment. Can you believe it? I am actually waiting for a while longer and then taking Al to the doctor.

I was surfing my Facebook, and came across this saying someone had posted. I stopped and stared at it, and then reread it a couple of times.

I got excited at the prospect that I, me, only me, can make anything happen if I, me, and only me, believe!

This gave me a few moments to reflect back on my life and go over my to do and wish list.

When I was in high school, I had a dream and a plan. I was going to go to college for four years right after graduation and become a physical therapist.

Then I changed it later, and decided that I wanted to be a therapist for troubled teens.

Instead of doing these, I chose the other route, and got married and started a family. Now many years later, after raising my family, the best I knew how, I realize that I have believed in me. I have followed my dream. I am helping others.

I have been a CNA and a Pharmacy Technician, playing both roles for the past 22 years. I have worked with many types of patients, making them comfortable, and I have also helped patients feel better by getting their medications ready for them.

For five years after this, I did private care. I took care of some lovely people, some husband and wife couples, others whose families worked, and needed their loved ones cared for. I was their therapist in some ways. I was a good listener, and I spent quality time with them. I also had my name put on the hospice list in our town, and got a few calls to help care for one who was at their end of life. This was the most challenging and rewarding job I have ever had. It brought me to a different level of humanity. It drew me into the personal lives of their families. It helped me to understand and see first hand how a body prepares for leaving this earth. It is very emotional and your love flows from within straight to their souls.

After leaving hospice, I took care of my own father, who suffered from bone cancer for one year. I was not only his therapist, I was his right hand lady. I did everything for him, except take away his illness. As I laid beside him on his bed, holding his hand, telling him how much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him, I had to add also, that I knew and understood why he had to leave me. I told him he would be brand new with no more pains, and to give mom a hug and kiss for me. He died holding my hand a few moments later.

After that chapter of my life was over, I immediately started caring for Al. I have now been caring for him five years this December. For him I have also been his therapist, listening to all he says. I am also his teacher, guiding him hopefully in the right direction. I am his nurse, placing a bandage over his heart. drying his tears with my words, and offering him comfort from the Bible. I use examples of others to help him remain strong. I give all that I am able to give.

He may be mentally challenged, and he may not understand all that is being said to him. He may have moments of dementia, but that only happens in the present world, the past world is very keen to him. Mental challenge is not what people think. It varies in different degrees of it. When someone is mentally impaired, there is usually an area where they are even smarter than I am. God did something special when he created these people. He made them so that they touch our hearts, in ways no others can.

So today, as I look back, I may not have received that four-year college degree. I may not have that

US Navy 060822-N-2832L-128 Navy Lt. Rachel Oden, of Casa Grande, Ariz., a physical therapist plays with a young girl during her first day of physical therapy for her neuromuscular control deficits (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

certificate hanging on a wall in an office somewhere, but I have more than this. I have years of experience with the human life, learning to love what we do not call normal. I have learned to be a good listener, and to only offer advice when asked.

I have been given the desire to be a helper. This is who God has made. Me, a human being, capable of loving, feeling, being able to touch others lives, capable of being hurt.

I am happy that even though I didn’t realize it  until this very moment, I have followed God’s path for me, and no matter what others think of my crazy thoughts and ways, I know God is proud of me.

Please Don’t Feel Different

Bed (Photo credit: antifuse)

She sat on the edge of her bed, looking at herself in the mirror on the dresser. Her face looked pale, and there were tears running down her face. She felt too weak yet to lie down on her bed, so she just sat there, with the breeze coming in her bedroom window, and tried deep breathing to calm herself down.

She had a secret. She had carried this for some time now. She could never find the right time to tell anyone, for fear her life would change, and the lives of others who she touched would be changed forever.

Grace lived on a hill in a small town, about twenty miles from the nearest big city of Michigan. Her husband had passed away from cancer ten years ago, but yet she could remember it as if it was yesterday. Her children were grown and had all moved to bigger areas to raise their families. Grace now lived in her big home all alone, except for her two parakeets and her old dog, named Brute.

Brute had become the man of the house since Johnny had died. He followed Grace everywhere she went, and lie at the bottom of the bed as she slept, keeping ears and eyes open for sounds.

Grace had never worked outside of her home. She had done odd jobs at times, taking in ironing for neighbors, and offering her services in spring and fall cleaning. She spent holidays baking cookies and candies, then she would walk  from neighbor to neighbor, so she could hand deliver each gift with a hand written card. You could also find Grace tending to anyone who she heard was ill. Tidying up their house, taking a pot of soup to them. Often you could hear her reading her favorite scriptures from the Bible to her sick friends. Everyone loved Grace.

Now it was her turn to need help, but she refused to let anyone know she was ill. She wanted to have her life continue as it was, and to die in her own home. Grace didn’t want pity and she didn’t want to see sorrow on others faces when they came to visit.

She wanted to continue to bake and when company came, or sometimes when she was surprised by a visit from family, she wanted to greet the grandchildren with cookies and milk.

Grace had not been feeling well for several  months, and noticed every time that she ate, no matter how little or too much, her stomach swelled. When it became more difficult to breathe from her swollen belly, she made herself an appointment with her family doctor. After a thorough check up and many questions asked, there were special testings ordered to eliminate or confirm different thoughts the doctor had.

A week had gone by, and she received the call. The nurse ask her if she could come in to the office in two days in the morning at 9:00am. She replied with a yes, and hung up the phone.

She tried to stay busy. She spent time on her swing out in her yard, watching the birds. Once in a while a car would drive by and honk, and they would each wave at each other. She baked a little, and did a load of white laundry.

In two days she entered the doctor’s office to hear the words colon cancer. Grace started to cry, and the doctor came over to her and put his arm around her and said together they would fight this, but inside her heart, Grace knew her time was short-lived. She had waited too long to seek a doctor’s help. She looked up at the doctor and asked him  how much time she had, and he shook his head back and forth, and neither said a word.

She went from the doctor’s office back to her home. She wasn’t hungry, and found herself very tired, so went and laid down on her bed. She slept well into the night and when her eyes had opened, it was day break.

Over breakfast, she went into her memories, and replayed Johnny’s illness. The medications that were prescribed, the cancer treatments. She remembered how ill he had become from the side effects of all he had been given. She remembered a week before he passed, that Johnny had barely whispered to her, that if he could do it all over again, he would have died normally, with God’s help and no medications.

She remembered the neighbors stopping by frequently, dropping off cakes and casseroles, staying long enough to chat with her, telling her about someone else who had suffered the same thing, and how much they had pained, and how this person or that had taken it upon themselves to become leader, and the bickering and arguing that went on.

All of these memories brought tears to her eyes, as all she had ever wanted was to spend time alone with her Johnny, telling him that she loved him, telling him that she would be alright after he left. She had wanted to give him permission to go ahead and go home to their Lord, that she would be coming along soon, but she never got to do this. There was always someone there, and even when Johnny closed his eyes for the last time, there were many around his bed side.

The doctor had prescribed different medications to ease her pain, to stop the vomiting, and to help her sleep, but she never filled the prescriptions. She was ready to go home to be with her Johnny.

Family came for a visit near the end of her days. They had noticed that she looked thinner and had questioned her about this, even suggesting that she see her doctor. Grace had told them to please worry about something else that was of importance, that she was just watching her diet, and that she had added a few too many pounds. They accepted this, and the grandchildren, and her own children, had a wonderful visit.

Neighbors came and went, stopping for a short spell, a small time of talk, and moved on about their day.

For weeks went by, and she became more somber, as she knew that her time was close. She sat down and wrote her children and grandchildren each letters, telling them how she loved them so, and how they had been such a blessing to her life. She managed to do one last day of baking. She made her famous sugar cookies. After they were all cooled, she put them in small baskets, and the next day, took them to each of her neighbors and sat them on their door step, each with a note, of how much they meant to her, and how safe she had always felt since Johnny had died, knowing they were near by.

That evening, she found herself sick to her stomach, and saw blood in the stool. She went to her bed, and looked at herself in the mirror, and saw her pale face, and tears running down her cheeks. She was too weak to lie down, but she was so sleepy. She sat there for a few moments, feeling the breeze coming through her bedroom window, and then she lie down on her bed, and went home to see Johnny.