It Isn’t Going to Get Better Is It
Diane wrote another prayer that I found so emotional. I feel she has so much talent. I can’t help but share her works with you. I believe she read my post about Prayer From My Heart. I didn’t ask, I am just thinking so.
Here is the poem she wrote after I posted mine.
Wish I could help you through this sorrow
And calm your fears through each new morrow
And show you life beyond this pain
To ease your worries, to keep you sane
When loved ones leave they never go
Their memories stay and ever grow
But what we miss are tender things
Like a long warm hug and what love brings
I’d tell you life will be alright
To comfort you through each long night
But deep down in my concerned heart
There’s nothing sure that I can part
For you must feel the test of time
And believe that God will show a sign
That He is with you night and day
He feels your pain, and hears you pray
And never will He leave your side
For all His children he loves with pride
I only wish I could help you flee
From this broken heart to set you free
But I will leave that up to God
For by your side He’ll always trod
His tender touch will help you heal
Just embrace His trust and know He’s real
My dear Lord
I come to you
To ask for
I do fine as
Slip a way
Is more than
I can handle
You promised me
Lord that you would
Never give me
Anymore than I
Can deal with
So here I am
With tears on cheeks
On bended knee
Feeling so lost
I need you now
I need you tomorrow
And I need
Please stay with me
Don’t leave my side
Don’t let me show
Al any of
My fears and pain
Let me be strong
Give me courage
To go on
From now until
I was planning on going to meet the Hospice nurse today at Al‘s Day Program and then stop at the grocery store and get the list of things Al is running low on so I am not forced to take him out on the weekend. If we go out, I want it to be entirely for his enjoyment, and I don’t think a grocery store is something he would get excited about.
I met with the nurse and she took more time with him than usual. She checked his legs and feet, his toes, fingers and nails. She listened to his heart and his lungs. She listened to Al’s heart a few times and jotted down her familiar notes.
After telling Al goodbye and that I would see him in a few hours she and I talked out in our favorite hall. The first thing she asked me was, “have you read our book throughout yet?”
“Well bits and pieces.”
“You need to read all of it. It will explain a lot of what I am going to say to you.”
“Alright, when I get time.”
She then proceeded to tell me that Al’s toenails were dusking. I asked what that was and she said it was part of the process. What she really meant was that Al’s toenails are turning gray.
His fingernails were gray and half-way up his fingers, the skin was gray also. So now the toes and fingers are being affected. She said he had pitted Edema in his feet and a half-way up to the knee.
I sighed as I didn’t want to hear these terrible things. She stated that she could not hear his heart beat because it was so soft. She had to watch his breathing and get his pulse and respiration to get any details of his heart. She explained his heart is getting tired.
She then tried to encourage me by saying he could go on for quite a while like this. Once again I got the pat on the back as we both left through the front doors.
Al choked on his supper last night and had labored breathing this morning while I was washing him up. He looks a lot better on the outside then I guess his insides look.
I couldn’t deal with it. I so wanted someone to talk to, but there was no one. Even my son who I will speak to about it is off on a vacation from today until Sunday. So I did the next best thing. I went to Al and my favorite soda fountain and ordered a bowl of soup and added a fat piece of coconut cream pie. I drowned my tears in sugar. Now I regret it, as I will have to eat very light for my supper, but I guess it worked while I was eating because I didn’t cry again until I got in the car to go get groceries.
My Own Death Becomes Me
I admit that I think about death and the there after too much. It is hard not to when I am…
I admit that I think about death and the there after too much. It is hard not to when I am constantly surrounded by people who deal with it. When I am told that Al is really sick. There will come a time when death will be the last thing I think of. Instead I will be thinking, beach, cabins, love and sunshine.
So thus stating this; you will understand my next sentences. I was laying in bed last night. My body ached, so I lie on my back. Suddenly my mind saw a casket. It was my casket. I was imagining what my own funeral would be like.
How would I look to others?
Would there be make-up plastered on my face so I was unrecognizable. What would I be wearing? What clothes would my children pick out for me?
I imagined how comfortable I would be stretched out in my tight-fitting box. Do you think the casket companies can make these in an extra-wide, like they do in shoe sizes? I have a few layers of fat that roll to the side when I lay on my back.
I even noticed that my once perky boobs were now fallen to the side; although my stomach did look flatter.
I practiced positioning myself in my bed as I would be sewn together to stay in place in my casket. I placed my hands over my stomach and closed my eyes. Head facing the ceiling I lay there for only a few moments when I started getting a headache.
I realized than that I can not be buried like the conventional person. I must have changes made for my own personal comfort. When I pictured how it should be I saw a whole different scene play out.
First of all, let’s kick off that granny, print dress. Let’s change that formal look to one I am more comfortable in. Let’s throw on some shorts and Tees. Let’s get rid of that hair spray and stiff hair that smells of old age and throw in some casual soft curls.
Get that thick make-up off of me and just let me be myself, natural. I like a look that you will have no doubt in who I am.
Now take me off my back. After all I don’t want to have to order that extra wide coffin.
And the headaches have got to go. Lay me on my side. Let me prop my head on my arm which is tucked under my pillow.
Now I want my bible tucked towards the side of my arm. I like to rest my hand on it as I fall asleep.
Make sure you put a couple of cartons of smokes and a few lighters beside me. Just sort of hide them. There may be non-smokers at my funeral and I don’t want to gross them out. I know, they are bad for me, but I have some bad habits, don’t you?
Next, but not last, is the flowers. Make sure I am surrounded by beautiful flowers. No roses please. I am terribly allergic to roses. If I start sneezing and I rise and look around and see those flowers, I will know I have an enemy somewhere in here.
Instead just bring some pretty plants and some Lilys. I love Lily flowers.
Let’s not have any of that sad organ music. Instead let’s have some of my old-time favorites. My favorite group to listen to when I was a teen was The Carpenters.
Let us all rejoice that today is the birthday of my new day in heaven.