Tag Archives: death

Daily Prompt: Unknown Caller

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English: Tomahawk Truck Stop at Interstate 76 ...

English: Tomahawk Truck Stop at Interstate 76 exit 16 in Adams County, Colorado. Facility includes Shell gasoline, Blimpie Subs and Biscuits family restaurant. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt, Daily Post

You receive a call from an unexpected person. Who is it, and what is the conversation about? Go!

Shelly  was weary.She tries really hard to stay uplifted but some days it just doesn’t work too well. She worked two part-time jobs and in between volunteered at a local community center for Senior Citizens.

She enjoyed working there even if she didn’t make a penny. Her grandmother went there often and she was able to help others as well as visit her family. One of the jobs she worked at was a very nice family style restaurant.

She loved it there because she had so many regulars and they made her feel like a part of their families when she waited on them. The tips were great also. They helped to put the food on her table after she paid the bills.

Her other job was hell though. It was the only job she could find at the time that fit in with her schedule. It was night at the truck stop out on the main  highway. From talking to her I don’t think she realized what type of customers she was going to be dealing with.

Of course there were many kind ones. They would come in and eat and drink cups of coffee. They would tell her about their wives and kids back home and how he couldn’t wait to get back home to them.

But the others, they made her stomach churn. They came in and smelled like open highways. They didn’t bother to shower first. Just to stand next to them to take their orders was too much some days.

They were rude and they took advantage of times where they could pinch her behind or make raw remarks that were too sexual for her liking. But she needed the job. It was this or maybe be thrown out of her apartment for lack of payment.

Shelly kept this routine up for months and then one day she went to her volunteer job and her grandma wasn’t there. She asked around to some of the other volunteers, have you seen Mrs. Miller? Do you know if she is coming today? Have you heard anything about why she isn’t here?

No one seemed to have any answers for her. The day proceeded and she was eventually home doing some work around the house and thinking about supper when the terrible phone call came in.

“Is this Shelly?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m the minister at your grandma’s church. Would you happen to be at home for a while? I would like to stop over and speak to you.”

Shelly said yes but her mind was racing. She hurried and tidied up her place and as she was finishing throwing clothes on her bed the doorbell rang.

The news hit her like a cold brick. Grandma, my grandma, oh my God, she is dead? No, she can’t be. I just saw her yesterday.

Shelly called off work that night. She should have gone in but she just couldn’t force herself to deal with those truckers in her state of mind. The truck stop was nice surprisingly and told her she could have a few days off, and of course with no pay.

The days moved forward although Shelly remained frozen in time. Her family restaurant employees sent her flowers. The funeral home viewings and funeral moved past Shelly while she seemed stuck in reverse.

After it was all over life had to go back to normal. She returned to the family restaurant  job she loved welcomed her back with open arms and lots of hugs and shared tears. She was given an easy section for one night. Her regulars had already heard of the news and brought her much comfort.

One of her customers told her that her tip was laying on the table and there was a napkin with a telephone number on it. She thanked him and walked over and picked both up. The note said I will be calling you tonight at 7:30, please be available.

She had no idea but tucked it into her apron. She finished her job and as she was going past the Senior Center she thought of her grandma and how she did not want to go back to that nasty job tonight.

At home she was anxiously awaiting the phone call. At the precise time the phone rang. It was the customer from the restaurant. The conversation went like this.

“I don’t know if you are aware of this but I am an attorney that speaks up for senior citizens. I have heard you speak so highly of your grandma I was curious to know if you would like to come in tomorrow morning and speak to me about a job. I can guarantee you full-time, good pay and health benefits”

“Yes, I will be there, what time would you like me to stop in.”………………

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Today’s Visit With Al

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crying emoticone

If fear wasn’t so strong

I think I would take off

For a little trip

On an island somewhere

All alone away from all

The visit with Al

Was too much to bear

His pain was at an all

Time high his cries

Never stopped and it

Was breaking my heart

I was told he has

Lost seven pounds this week

And  this caused

My heart to race

And it felt like it skipped beats

I helped him all I could

But I ended up doing no good

I cried with him for

The first time today

Our hearts were joined

In searing pain holding

Onto life with trembling hope

I helped him to lie down

After lunch and then the potty

His crying never stopped

As he told me words

That I understood

Please Terry take me home

I want to be with you

I choked and trembled

As he shook my roots of strength

I sat down on the bed

Beside him and grabbed

His hands placing them in mine

I told him that I promised

I was working as fast as I can

That I would have him back

Where he belonged

Then he looked at me one more time

And I could barely hear

The words he strained to tell me

Please don’t let me die in here………….

Terry Shepherd

04/12/2013

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I Don’t Want to Walk Alone Through This

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Alone in the Middle

Al has been dismissed from the hospital and back in the nursing home. There is nothing more anyone can do for him. They upped his nitro to the maximum does in order to try to keep his heart at rest.

Al’s heart is suffering from the tremors. He has CAD, and it is getting tired. On the way back home from the nursing home it hit me what the doctors had said. I started shaking so bad I had to pull off the side of the road and I cried like a baby.

I cried for my selfishness in the thoughts of  losing my brother. I cried for all Parkinson’s patients. I cried because I feel so helpless. The emergency push to get approved for him to come home has been given. The state called me today while I was at the nursing home. Now it has to be signed by a different area of the State and then a Caseworker is put into play.

I want him to pass a way here at home. I don’t care how hard it is to take care of him, I will not let him die in that nursing home or any other.

The doctor ordered a bed alarm for him. The nursing facility called me at the hospital and said they don’t want to use it because he will get mad at them. I told them, “This isn’t for your convenience, this is to alert you when Al stands up.”

“We just don’t want to use it.”

“Sorry, I don’t want Al to fall anymore than he is.”

“He has only fell here once.”

“Bullshit, he has fallen at least four times that I can think of immediately.”

“He didn’t fall two days ago. He was found on the floor.”

“Oh really? What was he doing on the floor?”

This argument went on for about five minutes and then I said,”I am his guardian and I say use it. No more arguing.”

His heart is suffering and he kept breaking out in clammy cold sweats all day. Many partial baths were given. When we got back to the facility an aid asked Al if he had to go potty. I guess he told her no. Five minutes after they laid him down on his bed he wet his brief, clothes and bed. When the aid found out he had done this she looked at me and said,”I just asked him five minutes if he had to use the bathroom and he said no.”

I told her it is the PD and not Al. I apologized but said,”He is wet and he needs to be changed.”

She got some help and the two changed him. The put a pad between the bed covers and Al’s bottom. She said she had a shower to do so she would change the bed later. To me this was wrong, but I let it go, he was dry for the moment.

He cried because he was embarrassed about wetting himself but I told him, “You can’t help it bud. If you could I know you would get up and go to the restroom. Please try not to feel bad.” I know my words fell on deaf ears.

It has been a bad day. I didn’t receive good news at all. Al life is being cut sooner than later. I am tired. Al is tired. I am sick to my stomach and I keep feeling the tears at times. I love my brother. I know he is suffering but I don’t want to lose him.

If anyone wants to help another PD patient not have to go through what Al does, please go to this website. Look under search or view entries and find Al’s photo with my name under it. He is in his famous red coca cola shirt. Here is the link.

http://terry1954.wordpress.com/2013/04/07/16-the-michael-j-fox-foundation-for-parkinsons-research/

You can vote one time every hour. Please help so others don’t have to suffer like Al  is.

 

 

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FWF ; Image Prompt

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http://kellieelmore.comfloating-house

It had been the birth place of my great-great grandparents, and now it had been passed down to my family.

Many a winter night we sat around the table talking. Candles throwing bouncing lights. Casting beams of light on each pair of eyes.

Everyone sitting close together around the table. Eating pop-corn and drinking kool-aid or coffee. Snow falling and blustery winds could be seen and heard outside our old wooden door. Rattles of shutters knocking on the frame of the house. This provided the perfect scenario for living memories of the past.

Pictures would be scattered on the table as we went through them as the adults would spin their tales of their past. I always looked forward to these family nights. They didn’t happen often as there was always plenty of work to be done on the farm.

Repairs were being made to the home, inside and out. Gardens being tilled and worked. Land being chopped, plowed and seeded. A creaky barn set to the west of the homestead. This is where years of horses were raised. Plows, rakes and hoes stood erect in the corners while spiders made their homes during the quiet months.

Babies were born. A large amount  people had lived on this land and born their offspring. To the east and behind the house sat a family cemetery. Each family member was carefully placed here. Wedding after wedding took place in the front yard between the dogwood trees.

Today, as I huddle together with my brothers and sisters under the kitchen table. I hear the horrific words of the powerful tornado that was passing over our part of the country. We went to the neighbors because they had a bigger home than our family.

It felt like we hid here for hours. My back began to hurt as I stayed crunched in one position. We each took turns at rotating our positions but had been warned to not come out until we were instructed.

At last the order was given. We were relieved of our position. Coming out and working to stand up we went to the windows and looked outside for damages. Our bicycles were no longer standing against the framed porch. We saw large tree branches tossed around the yard. It was if they had a party  of their own.

The skies were still dark but not as gray as they were earlier. Off in the far distance we could see the peeking sun. A rainbow was forming in front of our eyes. This was a sign of hope mom had always said.

We asked the adults if we could go outside and they said, “Yes but be careful”. We went out and walked around. We started looking for our bikes and did find them nestled in the tall grasses near the barn. They were a little twisted but still able to be ridden we thought.

The adults came out of the house and told us,”We are headed over to our farm now. Let’s go children”. Making the trip didn’t take very long. Everyone was walking with a quicker step as we all were anxious to see what had happened.

Once we all arrived we stood in awe. The home that had held so many memories, so many people was nowhere to be found. Only remnants remained scattered showing us proof that there was once a house.

We gathered closely together and held hands in a circle. One of the uncles started praying. Us kids stood very still trying to understand the complexities of this situation. The prayer ended  the men walked off to find salvageable goods and start a burn pile for the bad pieces.

The memories are here with us. The cemetery is still in tact. Only two of the dogwood trees are missing. We are safe and healthy and with the help of our elders and our memories our new home will be built very soon.

Reflection of my Love

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Her hair was flowing

It smelled like flowers

It reminded me

Of spring showers

Eyes that were so bright

Eyes the color of blue

Skin so milky white

Wishing I was with you

Lying next to me

Made my heart flutter

When the lights were turned out

There was no other

You fit so perfectly

When you laid  close to me

It was like two puzzle pieces

A ship meeting the sea

Now I lay here all alone

Staring up above

Wishing you were here

My darling my love

I will never forget

The last time you laid here

When your heart stopped beating

And I trembled with fear

The doctors told me

There was no more hope

God took you to heaven

Yet I can still not cope.

Terry Shepherd

01/25/2013

Accessories

 

 

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Daily Prompt; In A Crisis/ The Daily Post

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English: Bryn Mel Manor Bryn Mel (=honey hill)...

Honestly evaluate the way you respond to crisis situations. Are you happy with the way you react?

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The Daily Prompt

Oh brother, what a topic for me to have to write on. I bet you all can’t wait to see the answer to this one, right? Anyone who knows me knows that I panic first, think later, and accept last.

I didn’t used to be like this. I remember once upon a time I  used to laugh at everything and even laugh off events in my life. Then serious things happened. Divorce, illness, death. These things started to place a thumb print on my heart and soul.

I started wondering about my own life as I sat closely to others who were in the dying process. I got to the place that I wanted to be working anywhere that death was not even standing around the corner.

All I wanted to do was be happy and laugh and care free. Like I was when I was a kid and I was speeding by on my bicycle. My pig-tails flying in the wind. The clatter of my tickers on my bike spokes and the tassels on the handle bars. Wow look at them go!

What happened though didn’t make me content. It was a pretend game where no one won. I needed to be me once again. The facts are that I do love taking care of others. I do like knowing they depend on me. I like knowing they feel secure in my hands.

But with this does come a side-effect. Too much war paint on the face. Too many scars and too many memories of loved ones gone by. I tend to be over active in my mind when something odd is facing me. I tend to worry I may lose the one I love. When I lose a patient or a client, I fall hard. I give my heart 100%.

This can be a bad side-effect but it is who I am. I would rather be me and have the support of my blogger friends, than to pretend that I don’t give a hoot. I want other people to know that I care.

I will end this with sharing a vision of a patient I once had;

A female patient in her nineties. Quiet, very seldom spoke. I was filling in at a nursing home where I once worked through an agency traveling all around my home state working for short-staffed facilities.

This was a lovely lady with pure white thinning hair and big adorable blue eyes. Her skin so frail that if you touched it you could end up with torn skin. I was privileged to work with her for five days. She was dying and she knew it as well as I did. When ever I had time I would go into her room and sit with her. I would hold her hand and say nothing. Her family I didn’t know anything about. All I knew was that she was alone. In her last moments, she said in her very frail voice, “Honey, you have been my angel. You have been sent to me to keep me company until I died. Don’t ever change who you are”. With these words spoken, they were her last. I cried like a baby. Staff came in and left and commented to me about getting used to this. It happens all the time. But for me, each time is the first all over again.

I am who I am. Over reacting at times. Looking for support to you. I have good days and bad days, but one thing that will never be a crisis in my life is the lack of caring… because that is just part of who I am.

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Daily Prompt; This is Your Life/ The Daily Post

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Lord lovelace bridge

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If you could read a book containing all that has happened and will ever happen in your life, would you? If you choose to read it, you must read it cover to cover

I would choose not to read a book about my entire life. Why do this? Ruin the ending? Do I want to know when I am going to leave this good earth? Do I want to still make choices and errors in my life?

The errors no, but how do we learn if do not make mistakes. I don’t want to know if I am going to get cancer, or get hit on the highways. This gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

I am the one who will not get those special expensive tests to see what I may die of. First of all they are not accurate. They do not report that you will die from this or that. I think I would drive myself crazy knowing my ending ahead of time.

Our purpose here in earth in my view, is to live a life pleasing to God. To let others know about God. If I knew I was dying, would I become obsessed with myself instead of bringing others to the Lord?

Would I say forget everything. Let me live and let me die. Give me all of those cookies I fight so hard to not eat. May I have that piece of cake with all those sugary flowers on top?

I believe for me, I would lose respect for myself and my fellow-man. I may give up my hope for life, and I may quit trying so hard to continue to live a good life. By good life I don’t mean riches. I mean by your inner heart and soul.

How would you change if you knew you were dying within one year. Would you go to those enemies and spill your guts and say all of your I’m sorry’s?  Have you made your peace with your maker? If you died tomorrow, let’s say, are you satisfied with where you think you are going?

No, my answer is definitely a no. I don’t want to know anything ahead of time. And by the way, if you read my book start to finish, don’t tell me about it.

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Daily Prompt; My Favorite/ The Daily Post

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/01/06/daily-prompt-favorite-person/#like-12783

What’s the most time you’ve ever spent apart from your favorite person? Tell us about it.

I have had many people enter in to my lifedad, bev, me and theda

I have even had two that asked me to be a wife

Some have left marks on my heart that have stayed

Others have wandered through but went about their way

Some have taught me to love and to share

Others have hurt me, pain I had to wear

There are two people when I think back long ago

That have walked with me through life and this they know

But the favorite one that always is and always had

Is no other than my favorite person, my dad.

Terry Shepherd

01/06/2013

 

I am the blonde standing right next to dad. This was about four months before he left from this earth to go home to heaven.

Not As It Seems

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Rick's folks wired baby Jesus down!

Christmas presents under the tree

Spot the dog sitting next to me

Grandpa asleep in the easy chair

Where is grandma I see her no where

Mom is crying in her room

Dad is trying to heal her wounds

Food on the table just sitting there

Appetites gone and the chairs are bare

Television is off today

Music is softly playing a way

Christmas is a time for all to draw near

But not all feel this is true I say in fear

Lives are lived and thought to be

Merry as ever as all can be

Emotions come in a variety of ways

Christmas can come as a gloomy day

Draw near to each other and hold them tight

Look to God and see his bright light

Death picks no season nor time of year

God has it chosen but we should not fear

We live our lives by the golden rules

And  whatever our God says we must do

Accept our lives for what they are

Share with each other here or afar

Praise the holy baby born

Do not live life so full of scorn

Christmas is not always as people say

But let’s stick together and praise the day.

Terry Shepherd

12/19/2012

 

 

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A Man and his Dog

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Rusty, the dog sat patiently at the foot end of the bed. The only time he moved was to eat

Rusty

and go outdoors for relief. It did not matter if there were  visitors  or not. He never moved.

John was his master. They had been together for nine years. Every day when John went to work, Rusty would sit by the door waiting for his master to come home. They would eat supper together, sometimes Rusty would watch while John worked in the yard. It was always the two of them when John had to go to town.

Now John was sick and Rusty knew it. He guarded the bed, listening for sounds coming from his master, hoping he could help. Every day John’s sister would go to his room and attend to his needs. She bathed him, changed his sheets and fixed him a cup of soup and brought  it to him.

Before she left, she would always lean over John and tell him how much she loved him and leave snacks on his bed side table. He didn’t eat much anymore, but she didn’t want the table to be empty in case he had a change of mind.

The minister came from the church down the road. John didn’t go regularly, but the minister wanted to make sure John was straight in his heart and knew where he was going to go.

When the nights drew near, and the shadows took over the sunshine, Rusty would jump on the bed and lie at the foot of his master. When Rusty could hear the breathing slow down, he would go to his master’s side and give his master a kiss. John always smiled.

John had been a lawyer in his working days. He was strong-willed, and worked hard. He hardly ever lost any cases. He became rich in monies but poor with family and friends. He didn’t care whether he was going to hurt someone’s feelings. He didn’t care if he drained a person’s bank account. He cared about winning.

He married only once. He was past the prime age of marrying, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the lady with the big green eyes and the gentle smile. She worked for him as  part of the cleaning crew.

At first when he was working late, she would knock on his door getting permission to come in and start on his room. He seemed a little irritated with her presence, but with her gentle nudging, the two of them found conversations to become easier.

One time a few months after she had been cleaning, she knocked on the door and when she heard the familiar ring of his voice she walked in to see a two red roses waiting for her. From then on it was instant love. Love poured out of their eyes. Talk  made more sense, and soon he found himself asking, ” Joan, would you care to have dinner with me tomorrow night? It it will be Friday and I should be wrapped up with most of my work”.

Her eyes glistened as her voice shook out the words, ” Yes John, I would love to go to dinner with you”. He got up from his desk and walked over to her. He embraced her and told her, ” Good. I will pick you up around seven since you don’t work on Fridays”.

From the moment Friday night  ended, the two of them could be found dining every Friday after. As it became a regular date night, Joan’s  family stepped in to remind her of how mean John was. He thinks of no one they said. He is just not the proper man for you. Their voices went unheard as she knew in her heart she was already in love with him.

It was nearing Christmas Eve and John had asked Joan if she would consider having dinner at his house and she had said yes. He picked her up at their regular time and when they entered the front doors, the smell of food could make you dizzy.

John’s sister Kara who lived with him taking care of the house had made a delightful meal. After helping Joan take off her coat, he guided her to the dining room table where two candles were lit, and sitting on the plates were two steaming bowls of home-made chicken soup. He seated her and the two of them exchanged glances and conversations of the holidays coming.

When the bowls were removed, a plate of prime rib decorated by baby potatoes and glazed carrots appeared. Joan said, ” This food is so delicious. You should not have gone to so much bother John”. He replied, ” Don’t worry, Kara fixed it all, and she has cooked for me for so long, that placing another plate on the table was no bother”. She smiled at him.

When the dessert came, two dishes of orange sherbert were placed in front of them, and a  box also came out of John’s pocket. He laid it gently at her finger tips and said, ” Open it Joan, open it now”. Her eyes began to water as she opened the box and saw a beautiful diamond ring. She looked up at John and he said, ” Yes, it is for you. I want you to have it”. John got up from his seat and knelt at her side, and taking her hands in his, asked her to be his wife.

Joan put her hand to her heart and then grasped the box and gave it back to John. ” You put the ring on my finger John. I have always envisioned this scene in my head. You put your heart on my finger”. He took the ring out of the box and placed it on her left third finger and then standing up he helped her out of her chair and they hugged and kissed.

For the first time John felt something other than his work. Love had touched his heart. His eyes danced and his walk became lighter. Each day was filled with sunshine. He never saw gray skies again.

A couple of weeks later the two were married by the judge. He took her to Paris for their honeymoon, and the two wished they never had to return to the everyday routine. John and Joan were so happy for the next year. Each day was like a brand new day.  Except for work, the two shared a wonderful life. John even gave up a few hours of work to be with his darling wife.

One morning John woke but Joan didn’t. She had passed a way through the night. She had suffered an aneurism and she was gone. John’s heart broke in several pieces. He went through the motions of the next few days. His lips became dry and his voice choked when he spoke.

After a week had passed by, John buried himself back in his work. He stayed late nights and sometimes slept on the office couch. His sister tried to coax him into seeking some help, but he brushed her off. The only comfort he ever found was in his dog Rusty.

Rusty didn’t scold him. Rusty accepted and loved him. Every nite it was Rusty and John at the dinner table. He had no friends. There had been too many misunderstandings from the past. All he had left was Karla, and he realized that he treated her more like a servant instead of a sister.

Now John lie in his bed, getting ready to meet his maker. Alone except for Rusty and Karla. Days and nights turned into one. Karla took on another job, so she was only at home in the early mornings and evenings.

John was dying of cancer alone. He was living out his last days in the same manner he had treated people in the past. The world became cold and his heart became weary. He lay there remembering the eyes of his beloved Joan, and a smile stretched over his face and then faded a way as his last breath left his body  with Rusty lying at his side.

 

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