A Seed Was Planted

I started my day off pretty good but as it went on I became more tired, sleepy, worn out and…

View Post

A Seed Was Planted

I started my day off pretty good but as it went on I became more tired, sleepy, worn out and irritable. By the time I had to meet the hospice nurse, I must have looked ragged because she asked, ” what is wrong with you?” I guess my body gave me a way.

I had company this afternoon. The phone rang over and over. It was always about Al. I didn’t even get my 15 minute cat nap today. Oh don’t get me wrong, I would have it no other way. I like knowing Al is home and this is where he will remain.

But gosh dang, my age is starting to catch up with me. What I could do five years ago, I can’t now. What energy I had this morning was gone by afternoon.

I tried to talk Al into letting me transfer him from his wheelchair into the car. I said, ” let’s eat out.”

No was his reply. I brought him in and fixed supper. After supper he brushed his teeth. I emptied his lunch box and cleaned it out. I emptied his back pack and put his show and tell car a way in his room.

Then I changed his brief. He took one look at his room and started crying. I was afraid of this but had to do what I had to do. You see, I don’t like being the mean bitch of the house. But with Al’s illness going at a shooting star    http://youtu.be/EUlJsbIXsNo    I have to change things around in his room.

With all of his cars that he won’t let me put back in his closet and the ton of coke stuff all over, I have no room to manipulate that wheel chair.

I had to rearrange his room moving his bed to another wall so I can parallel his wheel chair to the bed as he can’t pivot any longer. Of course I explained why I did what I did but he didn’t care.

Well I did care. I cared about whether he was going to fall. If I let him go it would take him about five minutes to move one step. I can’t afford that kind of time so this is once I did what I did for his sake.

After his crying spell was over I left the room and he did nap. I came out to the kitchen and did the dishes. I had pill boxes to refill and his takes a long time to do. Mine is done in about a minute.

I then got his stuff ready for his lunch for tomorrow and got his clothes ready for his shower in the morning. Finally, I was done. I looked at the clock and I had 23 minutes to spare before he would get up according to his routine. I hurriedly got me a nice cup of coffee and came over to the computer. I flipped my game on FB on and was in the middle of the first game and the bell went off.

Crap, double crap he was a wake. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I went in and changed his brief. Lined up the wheelchair and stood him up. I took hold of his one arm to put him in his chair as there was no walking involved and he hung on to the bed for dear life.

I told him to let go that I had him. I think he about broke my back because my mind was on forward as his was on stay. Finally I got it done and he was seated in his wheelchair, transferred then to his recliner.

I started to walk out of his room back to my coffee and he wants to hold cars. Which cars I asked, those cars, which ones bud, those. Fine, I will figure it out. I will get each one down until you tell me I have the right one. Eventually I had the right one for him and came out to my cold cup of coffee.

I suppose I am hurting because I had to stand yesterday at the auction for four hours. My diabetic feet and back can’t take it. In order for me to get fully refreshed and a good day’s start I need 8 hours sleep. Ya, I know, to some that is a lot, but for my body that is what it takes to feel my best.

Day after day I don’t get that. Sometimes six, five, two, I never seem to catch up. I guess a little bit can be contributed to the fact I am almost 60.

While sitting here I remembered I hadn’t opened the mail. I discovered there was mail for Al. Three cards in fact. I want to thank Sandra R. from North Carolina. Thank-you also for the gift you gave to Al, Sandy.  Diane S. from Canada, and thank-you for the prayer cloth my friend. Also I want to thank Paula A. from West Yorkshire. Thank-you also for the post card you inserted about Whitby Harbour. I appreciate you sending me my own little card with your photo on it. It is very pretty.

It was at this moment that God had intervened. He knew I was at one of my little breaking points. I was going to sit and cry in my coffee but instead he planted the seed that we had mail.

I took Al’s cards to him and his tears turned into smiles, then I smiled. I am tired, I  hurt, I want to sleep for three days at least, but God let me know that you are all standing by me and Al.

God bless and many hugs to each and every one of you who has sent cards. I think in all he has about 21 cards. Remember if anyone wants to send him a feel good card please email me at

tellmenolies2004@yahoo.com

for his address.

As I am getting ready to close on this post I have to say caring for Al is very hard work, but he is working harder at staying functioning. My concerns are nothing to his, and when I get tired, I can stand by you.

Death, Ugly Or A Beautiful Word

Before I started caring for my father and then my brother, death was the last word in my dictionary. I didn’t ponder on it or even think about it. I was one of the lucky ones whose relatives lived long lives. I had only had one grandfather who had passed and I had made it through the heart ache.

Now, death is in the front pages of my dictionary, and I try hard to shove it back to where it belongs, but it  just keeps reappearing, like a bad dream. I have been now for a few years, afraid of dying.

What is it that causes me to be afraid of death? I know it is not the fact, that I will be with Jesus. This alone should make me so happy, to rid myself of all anguish on this earth. No more dieting, no more bad habits that I carry, as my smoking. I will be beautiful, but yet, I am still afraid.

When Andy Griffith passed away this week, it was a big wake-up call for me.  People that I admired, who I lived to watch on TV, are no longer  here. I have lost my parents, most of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, to the point I am now left with Al, and my kids.

I watch Al struggle with his fears of dying, and have seen him prepare himself for this big step, and I think, I can do this also. I try to tell my children how I feel about them, and how important they are in my lives. I know they listen, but they do not hear.

They are young, they are living their own lives, and raising their own children. They are trying to make a mark on this earth, just as I did.

I think that what I am afraid of is what I will be leaving behind. It doesn’t matter what I instilled in my children’s minds or didn’t instill, I believe as a parent, they will always need me at some point. It is realizing that I will no longer be here to listen to them or help them. I will no longer be able to see the grandchildren grow, marry and have children of their own.

The fact boils down to this, we are all going to die, no matter how afraid we are of it, or how much we fight it.

What matters to me anymore, is that I have told my children how I feel, and I have Jesus with me all the way. The walk to heaven will be the most honored walk-way I could ever walk.

We need to live our lives in a Godly way. Loving Jesus, making godly decisions, and spreading our love to others. I try hard, and I know I error, but it is alright, God forgives me. So from now on I will quit shoving the word death to the back of the book, and face it with respect. I will be ready when it is my turn.