Friendship

When we forget where our help comes from

I look up to the mountains—
does my help come from there?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth!
He will not let you stumble;
the one who watches over you will not slumber.
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
never slumbers or sleeps.
The Lord himself watches over you!
The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.
The sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon at night.
The Lord keeps you from all harm
and watches over your life.
The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go,
both now and forever.
Psalm 121

It’s easy to forget where our help comes from sometimes. As I prayed yesterday, my face to the carpet, in whispers of desperation, “My shoulders are not big enough, Jesus, they are so small…..” as tears threatened, “not nearly big enough to carry the sorrows and heartaches of loved ones back home, loved ones here, as well as my own, I can’t do it.”

And I realized my foolishness when His quiet reply came to my heart, “You were never meant to carry them, child, but I can, and not only that, I want to!”

I am so sorry Jesus……I kept you on the back shelf, again.

Why do we try to carry what we never meant to, I wonder? Sometimes we Christians think we are supposed to be strong enough, as people of faith. We tell ourselves things like we shouldn’t be stressed because we have the Lord, after all.

I got up after my very short prayer and went outside. The morning was cool and beautiful……Elaine came out with me, already awake. She knew how hard my first day back would be, she knew the burdens I carried, because people already carrying big burdens recognize when others are buckling under the load.

We sat at the patio table as God colored the sky an impossible shade of violet and pink. She told me of a radio program she liked listening to from 5-6:00 in the morning, about stocks and bonds and finance. I loved that she wanted to share it. It was like a gift exchange sitting there, she and I in the quiet morning.

It was so peaceful, that little conversation, Heaven touching earth, because He was there too.

As she talked, light filled the sky and I kept on sitting. As I rose from my chair I said, “I better make a call.”

I didn’t go in, I couldn’t go in, not yesterday.

And it was okay. Because sometimes the truth is that though you may not feel physically sick, you feel sick at heart, sick from stress. But sick is sick, and it’s okay to be weak sometimes.

As long as we remember who it is that is strong.

I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my Dad, who is 84 years young today!
Today’s picture is for you, Dad. Almost 40 years ago we climbed this mountain together, what a time we had!
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7
I was driving down the freeway when it hit. I felt that familiar feeling……..the shallow breathing, the knot of tears forming in my throat. They come sometimes without warning. It started as an ordinary task in an ordinary day. I was following Elaine because she was taking her car in.

I held it at bay, at arms length, because I have to get stuff done. I think it’s just life piling up sometimes, and it has to come out somewhere, sometime. I am no stranger to this feeling. It has always been with me.

One of the very first times I can remember was when I caved during a Christmas play at church.

I had one line, I don’t even remember what it was. Because all of a sudden all I wanted to do was get off that stage……I strained my eyes through the bright lights and all I wanted was to find my parents. And then I did.

The road blurred through tears. I breathed little puffs of air. I turned off the freeway and onto the street. Off to my right was man on the sidewalk wearing flip-flops, a Hawaiian shirt and shorts….and a guitar strapped around his shoulder. He was carrying on a very animated conversation, with himself.

Laughter bubbled up through the tears a little hysterically, I thought……..”I hope that’s not gonna be me someday soon.”

Then I thought of my childhood friend Mary. Mary of the big blue eyes and wonderful reading voice.

It was always either her or me the teachers chose for reading out loud. I still remember her singing a solo in a school fashion show, she sang “After the Ball” in a blue dress. I don’t know what happened with Mary but many years later my folks told me she would skate down the street in a full hockey uniform, helmet and all. She never played hockey a day in her life.

She died recently at my age, only 53. She had a daughter and I would love to see her.  I wonder if she had Mary’s eyes, and liked to read. I hope she will be okay.

Don’t we all dance a bit close to the border of crazy at times? I think you kind of have to, to live this life we all live.

As I caught sight of Elaine’s jeep through the maze of cars, right in the midst of my panic I thought…….”Thank you Lord.” Because all my life I have never had to go through this feeling alone, and some people have.

And this wonderful friend has been with me through so much. And I will tell her about this, and she will say, “Well, maybe you are a little bit crazy, but I understand, and everything is gonna be fine.”

Because after all, God has us. He really does. 

The Dangers of Assumption

Two are better than one,
Because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.
But woe to him who is alone when he falls,
For he has no one to help him up.
Ecclesiastes 4:9,10
Do me a favor today? If you live with someone, walk across the room and  grab their hands and look in their eyes and ask them if everything is okay. Even if you think everything is alright.
They may smile, shake their head and pull away, or think you’re being silly. They might giggle or laugh self-conciously. But then again they might surprise you and words might come tumbling out. Words they have been waiting to share.
Chances are, if you are living with someone, you have settled into a routine of what you call normal. Maybe one person is more silent, and the other one’s the talker. And usually it works. Life hums along. But when stress and life and circumstance come beating against the door, the seismic pattern shifts. All of a sudden what worked yesterday, is broken today.
Maybe it happened so gradually that you didn’t even notice. But now the silence is deafening and you, being the quiet one, pull in even further. You think maybe leaving them alone in their silence will fix it…..make the problem go away. But it never will.
If someone you love is quiet and they usually aren’t, something may be drastically wrong, and more silence won’t fix it.
They will wonder why you are leaving them alone………They will wonder why you are leaving them to battle it out all my themselves…….They will wonder if you care at all.
Learn from me……..I have made this mistake in the past, and I am sure I will again, of assuming that everything is okay, and then being shocked into awareness that things are very much not okay.
Leave a note in your wallet if you have to. Take it out and read it again and again.
Then do what it says.
Talk.

Phone Phobia

Me and phones.

I put off calling people, even people I really want to talk to. I don’t know why, I guess because when I analyze it, I automatically assume you are doing something important and I would be an interruption. I don’t know where that comes from, I guess a bit of shyness that has always been part of my character. Leftover from long ago………That, and I can’t see what you are doing. My imagination works overtime. I think how busy you are and the phone ringing would be taking you away from all that. And I can imagine you might think to yourself, “Oh, it’s her.”

My Mom had a brand new friend that she called out of the blue for the first time and the friend said, “What do you want?”  I would have been mortified. Of course, she was joking and they had a good laugh. And my Mom has a very healthy self-image and was unfazed. Now when I call Mom, often she starts the conversation with that same line and we both laugh.

But I want you to know, that if I don’t call you, it’s not because I don’t want to talk to you, or that I am not thinking of you. I do, and I am. And if you called I would be very happy no matter what I was doing. Unless you were trying to sell me something.

I guess that’s why I love texting. I never used to text…..at all. Actually, I didn’t know how, and also, I didn’t have an IPhone. I love texting, I don’t have to worry about interrupting anything. If you text back, that means you want to talk. That opens the door for me to respond back.

But it’s never the same. Hearing your voice is so much better. Especially when I can hear you smile over the phone. I picture your face and imagine where you are calling from…..maybe I see your room or kitchen and picture you in it, and that makes me smile.

Really, phone calls across the miles are magic. Sometimes when I get a special phone call, I remember right where I was standing when I got it.

Don’t ever worry about calling me, whatever I am doing or whatever time it is. It means you want to talk to me, and that means everything.

I will try my best despite my phone phobia, to do the same for you.

The cake tells the story

After years of vain familiarity, some distant gesture or unconscious behavior, which we remember, speaks to us with more emphasis than the wisest or kindest words. We are sometimes made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize that there have been times when our Friends’ thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a character that they passed over us like the winds of heaven unnoticed; when they treated us not as what we were, but as what we aspired to be. Henry David Thoreau

I am so thankful today that I have such a friend, and today I celebrate her life, her Birthday. There are so many things I would like to give her, so much she deserves. If I could I would give her a trip to Paris and a dinner under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel tower. And a full moon smiling…….And then I would whisper a prayer to God to have the stars do a little dance. Cause sometimes, as she so often says, sometimes you just gotta give it a little dance.

Or I would buy her an East Coast cruise to tour every single lighthouse.

What I would most like to give her right now is freedom, which she doesn’t have. Freedom to get in the car and go somewhere, anywhere, overnight. She is doing what she has to do right now, even though it is incredibly difficult. She is living what Ann Voskamp so aptly describes as the Hard Hallelujah. Where faith meets reality.

I know that every day she meets Jesus, because she can’t do it without Him. Even with Him it’s tough. This cake tells the story of her life as it is right now. Her Mom asked what the cake was for, and then for the umpteenth time, she asked her whose Birthday it was. Really, that was partially my fault. I put up the Birthday banner way too early. You learn not to do that with Alzheimer’s.

Her Mom stayed in the kitchen and Elaine figured out why soon after when she came out with a piece of cake and said, “That is good cake.” At least she said it was good.

Months ago I had put in for this day off, her Birthday, so we could hang out like we usually do on her special day. Then there was a scheduling conflict with someone else and they would have had to come home from out of state early. She said, go ahead and let him have the day. That is just how she is. That’s why I love her so.

I don’t like to imagine my life without her joy, her laughter, her unique brand of sunshine. She loves God and He loves her. She is God’s kid through and through. You can tell by what she does.

It’s in the way she loves people. It’s in all the little things she does when nobody except God is watching. She is the one who sees the baby carrier in the beat up car and finds the weary parent and slips them a twenty. She’s the one who pays for the Sonic order behind her. She’s the one who hand delivers bowls of cut up watermelon for the neighbors.

And every time she makes ice-cream cones, she makes three more to take next door.

She’s God’s kid. She notices when people need help, need to talk, need a listener. And she gets busy and does something about it. Not a dispassionate noticer, not her.

She’s my best friend in the world and I wish everyone could have the pleasure of knowing her. She is truly, the friend everyone would like to have.

I know she will be embarrassed by this, but after all, best friends are for shining the spotlight on each other. She has been shining the light on me now for 23 years, and I thank God for her everyday. Her life is a blessing.

Happy Birthday Elaine!

When God writes a story……

We have a history, this girl and our family. It seems like forever ago that she came into our lives, and forever since I had seen her. Her folks lived right next door for a time, and my Mom having never met a stranger, got to know them. My Mom started to take care of Heather after her Mom went back to work…..She would arrive in the mornings like a little Anne Geddes baby, smelling as sweet as a rosebud. She grew into our hearts, this girl with the mischievous and independent spirit. She was part of our family.

When it came time for my wedding, I knew Heather just had to be in it.

When I look at this picture now, I see everything that came after for us both. But back then, it was as the Carpenter’s song said, a day of “white lace and promises.” Soon after, my brand new husband would be gone from this earth, leaving a chasm so deep I didn’t know how I would ever get over it. But God brought me through that. Brought us all through that.

As Heather got older, my Mom kept in touch…..saw her at the store every now and then. She went through that “all in black” stage when she hit her teens. Fell in with the wrong crowd as they say. We heard she was having some hard times, some struggles. And then she was lost to us. We heard snatches of things here and there from her Aunt, none of the news very good. Her Aunt would tell us to pray, so that is what we did.

Her Dad died, and after that it seemed we didn’t hear anything at all for a very long time. She was lost to us, and I am sure she would agree, lost to herself for those many years. My Mom worried and prayed, and I am sure her own Mom did too.

Mom persisted through the years, kept checking up, kept praying that some day the news would be good. And one day it was……It seemed that Heather had resurfaced. She had come out the other side of some hard times. She got away from some influences that were better left behind. She got a good job and kept it.

She was baptised into new life in the Puget Sound.

And what a joyous time it was, when she and Mom met again that first time after so long. She said, “I got my girl back….” I can only imagine the tears of joy that were shed that day. God closed a gap  for them on all those missing years.

I was thrilled at the news, and though I had contacted her on Facebook, I still hadn’t seen her in person.When I heard she was going to be in Phoenix, I knew there was no way I could let her go back home without seeing her, especially when I found out her Mom was with her.

And as I got ready, I was so nervous. I fussed about what to wear. I worried what she’d think of me now, no longer young, like she remembered me. And when did my teeth get so yellow? How blotchy my skin was. I critiqued myself before the mirror. Maybe we have nothing in common, I thought. Maybe she won’t even like me…….

As we waited in the lobby for her to come down, I paced. I chatted nervously with Elaine, who had last seen Heather the same time as me, around 1988 or 89. I saw her face change as she looked at something behind me, and suddenly I felt two hands covering my eyes, and a warm embrace from behind.

And all of a sudden, those years fell away, and so did all my worries. As I looked in her eyes, I saw love shining out. Our Heather was back.

We talked and laughed for 5 hours straight, the four of us. Her Mom and Elaine found they had some things in common, they compared notes on caretaking, since her husband is on the same medications as Elaine’s Mom for Dementia. I could see the stress, the weight of it in her eyes.

When we went to leave at the end of the night, Heather called me “Sis” and picked me up like I was the kid, I realized again, that family doesn’t neccesarily have to mean blood.

What it does mean is love unconditional no matter what. For better and for worse. 

Friends, family and prayer holds us over to the better parts of life. Life is a combo plate, no doubt about it. With its own mixture of happy and sad, sprinkled with tears of laughter and sorrow. When I looked at the four of us on Tuesday I saw everything we have gone through, all of us. I saw some strong women, and an even stronger God.

All these years I have carried a memory of a little girl, reading out loud from a book my Mom used to read to her as they sat close, about how God’s love will always find you. “Even if I sank deep, deep to the bottom of the ocean, Your love would find me.”  It did Heather, it did.

It found us all. When God weaves a story, the ending is always happy.

And didn’t she turn out beautifully? I am kicking myself ever since for not getting a photo of us together….but that is for next time, I guess.

A special thanks to my Mom who never gave up on bringing Heather back into our circle of life and to Heather’s Mom for inviting us back in.

Walnuts and other stuff

I have a thing for walnuts. I can hardly walk by the walnut bin at the grocery store without digging in with both hands. I love how they sound and the texture. I know I would love how they smell too, but due to a genetic weakness inherited from my Grandfather, I have never been able to smell. That’s just one more thing in a long list that will get fixed in Heaven.
I had a walnut adventure yesterday, well the cats and I did.
It all started with a package of store-bought cookies. They were mexican wedding cookies, the ones that I decided I wasn’t going to make this year. They were okay. In fact, I am ashamed to say, I ate every single one of them. But they were nothing like mine. Now I had an unrequitted craving that wasn’t about to go away. I had no choice but to make them.  
I had pecans but I really wanted walnuts. My funny friend knows about my walnut fetish so last Christmas she gave me a sack in the shell, and they were still there in the cupboard. I dug out my nutcracker from wayyyy under the cabinet, since now I mostly buy nuts that Costco has already cracked and packaged very nicely.  It was too cold to go outside so I spread a sheet in my room and let the shells fly!
The cats thought it was a great adventure. They interrupted their morning naps and sprang off the bed like kittens: “What have we here? We don’t recognize this thing you are doing on our floor.” Somehow a rogue pecan had made its way into the bag so I rolled it their way. They batted it back and forth, but then Sydney smelled food like substance coming from the cracked nuts, so he stayed close by. His begging could put any dog to shame.
It was great fun. It only took me about 20 minutes and I had a nice little pile. I was surprised how I remembered some things. My Mom and I cracking walnuts on the cold garage floor on fall days. And going out to my Aunt’s little country house and picking them off her trees. I closed my eyes and heard the sounds, the voices…..it seemed so far away.
I heard the squawking of the blue jays, and the flutter of their wings as they swooped down. I remembered the brick wall in her kitchen and how she had See’s candy in the fridge. And how her sunny yellow bathroom curtains had fuzzy balls on the ends that I liked to touch.
And I remember all those years of Christmas baking and all the smiles of joy as they got their basket of homemade goodies. All of the trips to the store for a forgotten ingredient. And it surprised me how memories of those walnuts hurt. Hurt for those years gone and that they went so fast.
But there is more to be thankful for…….I still have my Mom, and I still have my Aunt. Though many years have passed, there is hope in every moment we all have right now, together.
This morning I broke the rules. I didn’t eat a sensible breakfast, I had two Mexican Wedding cookies with my coffee at 4:30 AM, and they were just as good as I thought they would be.
I have not one regret.

Multitude Mondays on the Road

I am posting my blessings on a Wednesday instead of Monday because I didn’t want to miss an opportunity…….to thank Him again for outshining the stresses with blesses.

As I lay awake after my arrival, my mind swirling….one thousand thoughts converging……

colliding, worries tumbling over and over like a spin dryer.

Everything that comes with wanting to be everywhere at once when visiting family. The excitement of being there, and the sometimes extreme duress that came with traveling with someone extremely unpredictable, and with many special needs and challenges. It all swirled around.

My heart beating, my neck tense…..I prayed and let it all out to Him who listens best and can calm my heart when all else fails.

Still the blessings shine through the darkness. And many smiles were had and much laughter too. Now that I am home, I remember one after the other.

Being able to park the RV at my Aunt’s place on the Mokelumne River, and it was a blessing to her too to have us there. A comfort to her since now she comes home in the dark, her husband spends his days and nights away in a rest home. She said over and over again how she enjoyed it….having us there.

Seeing my Mom’s Bible study gals again…..their faith always shines through whatever they are dealing with, and there are many issues. But oh how we laughed and got a bit of study in too. Sometimes the fellowship is the most important part of the lesson.

Being able to spend time with Lauryn, my niece, my precious girl whose voice I still hear right now…saying my name which I waited so long for her to say. She has captured my heart with all the things she does……As I put scattered Lego’s back in the bag, my heart tugged…..lurched for her and the fun we had. Leaving is so bittersweet.

Enjoying a walk downtown in the crisp fall weather……clicking with my camera and enjoying once again walking all the paths I used to walk.

And of course, being able to do some things for Mom and Dad who are so appreciative of every small thing I do. I only wish it could be more……enjoying great food cooked by my brother, who really missed his calling. He should have been a chef.

Throwing an impromptu party for the “girls” in the Motor home. Elaine cooked a wonderful dinner and we laughed until our stomachs ached. My Aunt came out later and said what a great time she had…..

And to top it off. A spontaneous side trip to the ocean. I promise, pictures will follow………….There was a special place she longed to go, my best friend…..but with her Mom along, there was not much peace or relaxation for her. Let’s just say it was not a real vacation. Her dream of escaping there for a few days didn’t work out, so she asked me……Want to take a side trip to the coast on the way back?

It would mean getting back with no time to spare for work. But suddenly the prospect of going there, standing on the pounding surf, was irresistible. And she beamed like the sun……We turned the “bus” to the West with our hearts singing.

And Oh, the seafood. The magic of the waves, walking for hours and hours on the beach, watching the sandpipers clown around the shore, and the otter who entertained us for a solid hour with his antics.

It was all so wonderful. There is truly nothing like praying by the ocean.

Getting to bed at midnight and getting up at four AM for work is something I have not done in a while. But the memories and bit of peace and relaxation we carried away is worth every bit of sleep lost.

Sleep can be caught up. Moments are for seizing,  and once passed we can’t be sure they will come again.

#714-725

It Takes a Village (of Old Ladies)

I am the fire upon the hearth,
I am the light of the good sun,
I am the heat that warms the earth,
Which else were colder than a stone.
Taken from the poem, “Any Woman” by Katherine Tynan
It was a rose of the Grandiflora variety……Love is the name of it. That was all it took to spark a memory of a special lady named Marie Day. And she was…..like day I mean. She gave our family one of these beautiful rose bushes….she had a passion for roses. It bloomed for years…..a creamy pinkie white in the inside with flaming red on the outside.
She did other things too. Special things for me and my Mom. She knew I loved lace, and that I loved to put clothes on my furniture. She made me the most wonderful embroidered dresser scarves. And pillowcases with colorful flowers. For me, the girl across the block. And she made the greatest zucchini bread. She was a sweetheart. She and her husband were fixtures in our neighborhood.

We have all grown up with them. These venerable and wise elderly ladies of our neighborhoods, our villages. Church ladies and non-church ladies….you know the ones. They save pennies in a sock to give to the needy in the community. They hold down the fort, the neighborhood, the pew. They are pillars. Pillars of strength to their families whom they have given their lives, and not in misery….in joy. Their strength is knowing they have made others bloom.

They are tireless and work circles around everyone else. They fall into bed exhausted and sometimes they cry at night from carrying the weight of the world…….but only late at night when everyone else has been fed, comforted, fixed.

Then there was our neighbor Alma Nystrom. She also grew roses and the most wonderful pink Azaleas and Gladiolas, towers of color. She loved when I went over and picked some. She baked the best scratch cakes I have ever tasted. And every year………Fluffy white pillows on a plate, the best Divinity I have ever tasted. I think of her every year I make it.

I will never forget the horror when our dog decided to lift his leg on her once when she was standing in the yard. I don’t even remember her getting upset about it. Maybe she never noticed?

She had her grief…..lost her only son to diabetes too young, and that was after his wife left him. She was a part of our lives for a long time. Her sisters would come up the drive like a mini parade before they all went to church together, all looking like they just walked out of a style magazine. Then they would all come back and settle in Alma’s kitchen for a small glass of beer and lunch.

My Aunt had Mrs.Swall next door. She always had a cat settled on her lap and what impressed me the most? Candy hidden in her dresser.

All of them dear…..all of them gone. I miss them. so much.

One day I hope to grow into one of those gracious and kind ladies. I have much to live up to.