A Word for 2014!

Happy New Year!
No, I  didn't fall off the edge of the earth, I have just been stuck in a rut! I haven't been writing much except on my children's book and even that is stuck!
I have missed visiting with you about our everyday life adventures.  It's because you read, that I write! You are part of my therapy!
So I will quickly apologise for not writing and move on! Sorry, I haven't posted in a while!
It's a new year! For some of us that is terrifying and for others it brings hope for new and exciting adventures. For me it's a mix of both.
I don't like new years resolutions simple because I can't keep them. I will sometimes make it a couple of days and maybe even stretch into a week and then fall off what ever wagon I was trying to ride! The weight loss wagon, the I'll be nice to everyone wagon, the keeping a perfect routine wagon, it doesn't matter which one I was riding on I always fell off!  The one consolation for me is that I am not alone! Only 8% of us achieve our resolutions!(I did look that up on somebodies research.) I guess I shouldn't feel so bad about my lack of success!
This morning, however, as I was watching the Today Show and Jon Gordan  the author of "One Word Will Change Your Life" was on talking about his book and it caught my attention. Let me backtrack here with a little of my background. I was practically raised on "motivational talk"! My church was a "faith message" church, so anything negative was pretty much considered "a lack of faith, not enough prayer, not enough Bible study, or from sin in your life. Back to this morning. My first instinct was to blow him off and think he was just a jerk playing with peoples heads but even after the segment was over I couldn't let go of the idea of "my word". Jon Gordan's instructions to finding your word kept slipping into my mind. First, look inward to what you need and then look upward to God to give you your word, lastly look outward to live your word. Still thinking this was pretty hokey I decided to just think about it and casually give it a try. * I want to interject here that I do not know anything about this guy, I don't know if he is for real or just a charlatan looking to make a few million bucks. Then I remembered that God could use an ass to get something across to you if He wants too!*
Well, a word came to my mind, "Action". So I looked it up while I was watching the Rose Parade and wrote down meanings and other words that started with "Act" like activist, activity, active, activate. You get the picture. I was feeling kind of good about this word but I didn't see it as "my word" exactly.
I looked up from my notebook for a minute to check out one of the floats and there it was, my word. Weird I know but I really believe it is my word for the year 2014. The name on the float was "Thrive" I picked up my laptop and googled , thrive, only to find exactly what I needed to hear:
*flourish * revive * grow * prosper * make steady progress * expand * bloom * turn * change of position* undergo transformaion * action *  I was surprised to see my first word that I thought of "action" in the list.
I don't know if it was a "Word from God" or not, I'd like to think so since I believe in that kind of stuff, but I do believe it is My Word for 2014.
I started making a list of things I actively need to do in order for me to thrive.
It looks something like this:

• Be active spiritually.
• Be active physically.
• Be active socially.
• Be active mentally.

Normally looking at a list like this would freak me out because I would be afraid to try it! But with my word thrive, includes a concept of easy steady progress, not an immediate about face that I could never stick to!
These are my goals for this year:

• Pray Pope Francis's 5 finger prayer.Shooting for at least a couple of times a week.
• Walk sometime during the week.
• Eat with a friend at least once a month.
• Write.

It looks doable to me. I'll keep you posted about how  it works out.
Maybe you could give it a try, what do you have to loose?  I really believe there is a Word out there for you, too!
Peace, till we visit again and I pray that you will THRIVE in 2014!
P.S. I'd love to hear what your word is or what you think about all this so just shoot  me a comment! I'll try not to be so long between posts!
Happy New Year! Rosemary
P.S. again! I didn't  have my husband edit this so I apologise for any gramatical errors!

Aftermath!

Wouldn't you think that after a crisis is over, the "bleeding has stopped," and everyone has lived to tell about it, that you would have a tremendous sense of relief, even euphoria? Sounds about right to me! As it turns out that isn't always the case, at least not in my experience, and I think many of you will find this to be true as well! Maybe this post will help you to not feel guilty (or crazy) about having a bout of depression, anxiety, or fear after you have succeeded in making it through a major crisis. I want to say that this isn't something that happens only to those of us that are bipolar or predisposed to depression and or anxiety; it can happen to folks who are as healthy as a horse mentally! Also note that the life event doesn't have to be a near death experience, either. It can come after the ending of an unhealthy marriage, a life career change, after selling or buying a house, moving to another country or just across town, and even after finishing final exams. It can also happen after wonderful life events like a wedding, graduation, a promotion, and having or adopting a new baby! I've heard it said that almost everything in life, both good and bad, can cause stress and unfortunately, the body doesn't make a physiological distinction between "good" or "bad" stress. At any rate, once the stress causing event is over and done with I have found myself dealing with its consequences, or as I am calling it here, its aftermath. Sound familiar?   

www.hopetocope.com/Item.aspx/870/navigating-change
This is a good article--I think it supports some of the self-diagnosis I am presenting here.
If you remember from my last post, my husband was hospitalized for an aortic aneurysm and 3 clogged arteries from his bypass surgery in 2007. We were in the hospital for 21 days, 18 of those days in CVICU. The difficulty wasn't the surgery; it was the inability to remove the vent. Each time they tried, his numbers would crash and then we were back to square one. Long story short, he got off the vent and was able to come home 3 days later. 

"YEAH!!! We're going home!!!"
But wait a minute, I thought--"NO, Not yet, I'm terrified."

I thought to myself, "couldn't they just keep him a while longer? I'm not ready for the journey of recovery, not just yet." In the hospital there was always someone there to get him up to pee without falling, checking his sugars, blood pressure and cooking for him! My schedule was set by the waiting room. I'd wake up, climb off my blow up mattress, make for the coffee pot, go back to drink my coffee with Hartley ( he didn't know it) and to see if there were any changes made in the oxygen levels overnight. Second cup, I checked Face Book and let the sleep wear off, touch base with the other families that were waiting on news of changes in their loved ones over night, straighten up "my" area and wait for Emily to bring Emma Rose to me. Routine ruled my day and that was perfect for someone like me who has a really hard time sticking to any type of routine! The bipolar creature is always looming nearby, trying to lure me away from the schedule that helps me become more and more physically and mentally healthy!
So why you ask was it so hard to go home? And what kinds of emotions and symptoms did I experience? Several of the things I experienced were: fear of not being able to nurse Hartley adequately, anxiety over any little movement or groan that might signal something was wrong, the fear that I wouldn't be able to keep him from smoking again after being away from his pipes for a month, fear that I couldn't make him appreciate the life he had been given back. How was I supposed to keep him from going out for a 1,200 calorie greasy hamburger meal complete with french fries and a large Dr. Pepper! All of these things were out of my control, a control that I never had in the first place! The need to control  made me think that if things didn't go a certain way it was somehow my fault! And I felt totally out of control! It was so aggravating! I know that control is never something we have over someone else; control is something we have over some parts of our own lives, and I HATE that! Again, the bipolar creature lurking in my mind tries to convince me otherwise, that because I am so powerful, persuasive and almighty, surely I can be in control! After all, it's not like making time stand still or anything! 

Grandiosity is one of  the tricks of bipolar disorder. Beware if you see this trick trying to control your life! The emotions I experienced immediately after coming home from the hospital went something like this, tears, tears and more tears (for no apparent reason),shaking hands, jumping at any little noise, not sleeping through the night,( it was a lot like having a new baby in the house and with every groan or shuffle I would be awake, saying "honey are you alright, is there anything I can get you?" I even put a bell by his chair, but he never used it!
I spied on him to see if he was sneaking out for a puff on his pipe (we thought we had hidden all of them but apparently we missed one or two). Then there was mail, I have a phobia of paper, especially envelopes, I know they can only contain some kind of bad news. Bills send me over the edge, and they were piling up by the day. When we did have to open them to apply for Medicaid, the total was way over $300,000.00 and there were more bills to come. Maybe that's why I have a phobia of letters and bills! Many days I would take my meds out of sequence just to stop my hands from shaking uncontrollably ( I did tell my Dr. and counselor about this). Depression showed up in the form of being stuck in front of the television playing word games for hours and hours, keeping me from doing the things that were necessary for daily life, like bathing, brushing my teeth, doing my hair, and changing the clothes I had been in for many days.
You can see how anxiety, fear and depression could possibly befall you after a major event. All the build up to a huge and wonderful wedding, the long days and nights studying for final exams leading to graduation (or not), a crisis of health and recovery, all these and more can turn you on your head when the stress bubble bursts and all of a sudden, you are in a place where a new routine has to be put in place, a routine that is critical for your mental health.
These are some of the things I have done now, after an emergency visit to my counselor, to help me prevent falling into a deeper pit of depression now that our "bleeding" has stopped. I moved my writing space outside to the front porch, I started making lists again and marking off items as they were completed, I began planning my day in blocks of time (right now for example, I have been writing for 1 hour and 51 minutes and I have 9 minutes left to write). I may have to finish this tomorrow! Cleaning, writing, correspondence, cooking, playing word games, shopping, and work are all blocked off in order to create and maintain a workable and healthy routine. I do make room for interruptions that naturally occur during a day's time. Sometimes the whole plan has to be thrown out the window! This plan isn't designed to be a straight jacket; it is only to provide a framework for a consistent, healthy routine. This may sound a little obsessive to some, but it works for me and keeps that evil creature at bay that hangs around trying to keep me from being a whole, healthy human being! Whoops, time's up, time to clean the kitchen!

Mental health note: If you find yourself in a situation similar to this and you are showing signs of depression and or anxiety lasting longer than a few days or over a week, please seek medical attention! These feelings can wreck your life if not treated properly. Tell your doctor!


Peace, till we visit again!
Remember, life is always an adventure with surprises, good and bad, around each corner. Be prepared and you will not only survive but you will thrive!

Tell me about events in your life that may have ended in a place of anxiety, depression or fear when you were past it! I would love to hear from you anytime! 

The Waiting Room

21 days in hospital waiting rooms can bring out the best and worse in anyone. I'd like to share with you some of my "adventures" in the St. Vincent CVICU waiting room.
We entered the hospital July 7th (I think) I slept on a fold out chair the first 2 nights. The surgery lasted about 7 1/2 hours. Most of  my first day in the waiting room consisted of hugging myself, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket my friend had lent to me and crying. Aortic Aneurysm and 3 blocked arteries kept my head bowed in prayer and emotional exhaustion. Every time the door to the waiting room opened or the phone there rang I jumped. I realize there are much more complicated and much longer surgeries than we went through but this was My Husband and time only inched by. Out of surgery and into CVICU we were allowed to go in for only a few minutes. Tubes everywhere, beeping sounds echoing off the walls, nurses scrambling to get stuff done. I stood dumbstruck even though we had been through this once before. You never get used to seeing your loved one with all the medical bells and whistles! The second day they tried to remove the vent, and after 3 hours all his numbers crashed and they had to reintubate. That led to 10 or so days on the vent. That's where my waiting room adventures began.
My son brought me an air mattress and pumped it up for me. I circled my "temporary home space" with chairs and a coffee table. Do you remember playing house under a tree using the roots sticking out as walls for your rooms? That's what I did! I created my space! Bags of clothes and toiletries, snack bags friends had brought, an outlet for my laptop and phone charger, books, pens and paper. Last but not least my photo of my daughter and her family. My son didn't have a photo handy or he would have been there as well.
Something happens in an ICU waiting room. Spirituality that you may have thought was a thing of the past oozes to the surface. You are alone most of the time so you start looking around at others in the same sort of situations, some much worse than others, but none of them good or they wouldn't be in ICU.
I began to make my moves into these peoples lives, and situations. It isn't hard. Just say "hello, who are you here with?" and it all comes spilling out.
One couple I was drawn to in the waiting room had had a huge bunch of family earlier. I didn't want to intrude on that. So I waited until they had filtered out. I went over and said my line"hello, who are you here with" "my son, answered a man about my age, "he hung himself" the words almost vomited out of him. "Oh Jesus what do I say now?" All I could think of to do was stick my arms out in his face to show my scars and said"I understand." We talked about 2 hours. I told them I was bipolar and had had some pretty bad episodes. Come to find out the father had just been diagnosed as bipolar and had a ton of questions about the things I had experienced. His son had had long, long battles with drug addiction and mental illness, but refused to take his MEDs because they made him feel funny. We wept, prayed, and embraced before they went back for visiting hours. Later their son was moved to the psych unit and I didn't see them again. I think of them this night while I am safe at home with a recovering husband.
The African Americans tended to stay at one end of the waiting room and the Caucasians at the other. This just wouldn't do for me. One day around lunch time a black family was eating at the break room table when I mentioned how good that the food looked. (Biggest downfall at St. Vincent's was the food quality and the exorbitant prices) They gathered me up to the table and fixed me a plate and the conversation flowed like warm honey. I learned all about the Auntie and her condition while they asked about my husband and his condition. Miss Diane wrapped her arms around me every chance she got after that lunchtime encounter! I loved it.
One morning, cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I met my new friend Antoinette. She smiled at me and I fell in love with this young black woman. She told me she had ridden a bus from Virginia to be with her"Momma" grandmother. Antoinette turned 24 in the ICU waiting room while she sat and waited her turn to go feed"Momma"and sit with her for a while. We gave her a makeshift Birthday party with cupcakes and candles! The whole waiting room gang sang Happy Birthday to her! We spent a good bit of time together, talking about what her life was about and what her future held. She always greeted me with a big hug and a kiss when I had been away for a couple of hours. When her mom left to go back to work she put me in charge of watching over her girls. I got a call yesterday from Antoinette and she said her "Momma" had passed. I so wanted to hold her and let her know everything would be alright. Antoinette wants to be a chef and I am pulling for her. I know we will stay in touch just from that time in the waiting room.
Then I met Doris. I had seen her go in and out of ICU a number of times. But she stayed in the room with her husband most of the time. Tom, her husband, was conscious and able to talk, unlike mine. One night as I was coming in from dinner and she was leaving to catch a bite, we stopped and acknowledged having seen one another. She quickly told me her story. I couldn't help myself when she said that they had been in the ICU for over 5 weeks, I embraced her as if I had known her for years. I wasn't too sure how that was going to sit with her. She seemed very prim and proper and I thought I had really stepped over my bounds. Tom had had multiple surgeries and he was very critical. But Doris was a praying woman and trusted God to bring him through. That night I couldn't sleep, 10 passed 11 passed 12 and then Doris rushed through the door and plopped into my little space and sobbed. I scrambled up from my mattress (not easy for a woman of my age and size) and made for her side. I wrapped my arms around her and began to pray. Soon she was able to get out a complete sentence and said that"Tom had taken a critical turn and they had no idea what was happening" We stayed up till about 2am talking, getting to know each other, praying some more, all the while I stroked her arm and patted her back. I was afraid I was violating her personal space (this was a stranger after all) when she turned to me and said" you are just like my best friend Bettie" "she is always touching and patting just like you are doing." I met Bettie the next day and I watched her love on her best friend, patting and stroking her arm, praying. Doris needed someone to be there and I guess God just kept me awake. Unfortunately, Tom passed 3 days later. I will never forget Doris and how I fell in love with another stranger in ICU. We exchanged information the day Tom passed and then she was gone from the waiting room, but not from my heart and soul. I was so sad. I missed her every day that I remained there.
My momma taught me well not to judge a book by its cover. There was a young woman that I had noticed and we had said hello and exchanged a little information about our loved ones in the ICU. From the outside one might think she was a little rough. Dark glasses, baseball hat turned backwards, T-shirts with language that could put some people off. But still I wanted in. I wanted to know her. However, I didn't get the chance to do that. One day she had gone down to have a smoke and her husband and father of a precious 5 year old, died. One moment he was from all appearances fine and the next moment gone. Life is so friggin fragile.
When you spend a long time in ICU waiting rooms the losses are so painfully  bound to happen.
My husband finally got off the vent and I moved my little nest into his room so we could be together again. I didn't know what a toll the waiting room had taken on me until I sat quietly apart from it. I began to tremble and weep letting out all the pain I had been carrying for some many people. You know a gift (like compassion and empathy) can become a curse if you are not careful. I slept while Hartley slept and we would visit a little ( it was hard for him to talk after being on the vent for so many days) and we would hold hands. I was so glad when he was off the feeding tube and we could have coffee together once again.
CVICU opened my heart and soul in a way that I had not experienced for some time. It is a curse and a blessing to be in that situation. If you find yourself there, just say "Hello, who are you here with?" and if you are open, you are in for an adventure!
Peace, till we visit again, when I introduce you to Sister Mary Francis!and another special moment that happened in the CVICU.

P.S. If you have had experiences in an ICU waiting room feel free to share them with me in the comment section. Peace.
     

Momma T.

Genteel, in the very best sense of the word, is how I describe this grace filled beautiful woman.
Surrounded by acres and acres of grassland and herds of cattle. Her white hair, blown by the hot Texas wind, whips around her face like cirrus clouds. A sparkle in her clear blue eyes invites you into her home and into her life.
Special? Doesn't touch the essence of this woman I call, "Momma T".
Our first meeting a connection was made that turned me into family. Then one by one she added the rest of us into her clan. Having afternoon rendezvous with my man.
Years have passed and time is growing short for my precious "Momma T".
Our last visit was our last visit.
Skin so thin every vain glowed through, like multiple rivers of life.
Hair sand white and fine as a spider's thread.
Asking about everything her breath would allow,
we filled in answers while she caught her breath that soon would be her last.
I couldn't keep my hands off her cool skin.
Just one more touch.
One more moment.
Only one more question.
She's tired,
it was time for us to go.
Just one more kiss.
One more hug.
One more good bye.
We wished her a safe passing
and said our last goodbye.

Our dear friend made her journey home today July14,2013.
She is rejoicing with her God and reunited with the love of her life.
A life lived like hers needs many tributes. This is mine.
Peace, till we visit again. Remember, this journey we call death is an adventure unto it's own.

 

Ludys Adventures

I've been playing around with a little book for my grand daughter. If you don't mind take a look at a very early draft and let me know what you think! This is just another adventure that has been waiting for me. Peace!

 

 

Ludy's Adventure( working on title)

 

 

Sounds of vroom, vroom,vroom, swish slosh, swish slosh, ka choon, ka choon, vroom swish slosh ka choon all accompanied by background music, gushed into Ludy’s room!

*“Seriously, I can’t hear myself think! Where is all this racket coming from? It sounds like a freight train running through my house!” Ludy thought as she tried to play a game on her new Nintendo.

*Ludy finally got fed up and bounded down the stairs to see what all the commotion was.

*The wild noises Ludy heard were coming from the vacuum cleaner, washing machine and dishwasher all running at the same time and Momma listening to some crazy music on Pandora.

*Momma was doing some major spring cleaning! But why now it was midsummer not spring? Then it popped into Ludy’s mind what all the fuss was about; company was coming for dinner from papa’s work. Important company! Ludy now understood why her Momma was a little on the frazzled side.

* Ludy thought, "I desperately need to go out to ‘Violet House’ because this house is driving me crazy, like a fly zooming all around in my head!!! I can't hear myself think much less play my game!”

*Ludy had no idea what was in store for her later that day when she slipped out the sliding back door and headed to the thick woods in their backyard.

*Shrub trees made a thick wall that helped to shut out the rest of the world. “Peace at last” Ludy thought as she entered her special hideaway. She named it “Violet House” because there were millions of wood violets growing around there.

*Inside the shrub tree wall stood a magnificent ancient oak tree. It had giant gnarly roots pushing up through the ground around it's base.They looked like huge octopus tentacles rising up from the deep ocean waters.

*Ludy always felt like there was something extra special about this place, it had a magical kind of feeling that was really hard to explain.

*She had built her playhouse in between the big roots that seemed to separate and form rooms. Looking around Ludy surmised  “this is a place even Oak Fairies would be proud to live.”

*Ludy could play there for hours totally unaware of the goings on in the outside world.

*Today she was making a rug out of leaves, but they wouldn’t stay put because the wind was making it’s way in through the shrub wall. Not giving up, Ludy continued putting the leaves back in place, even though it was beginning to get a little frustrating chasing the leaves all around!

*Violet House, was an extraordinarily special place. It was a place Ludy could go when she needed to think or to just be alone. Sometimes her friends' came there to play and her Momma would make special lunches with apples, peanut butter and extra special good cheese, from the cheese store down the street. The people that owned it always gave Ludy scrumptious samples! Ludy liked the white cheese with the blue green mold in it best of all. Ludy’s Momma would make “healthy water” that had all kinds of fruit and stuff soaking in it, and then put it in a thermos for them to drink. She explained that it would keep them hydrated. Whatever that meant.(note: put recipe for water in back of book.)

*Earlier that day her momma had given her a faded out, old, blue camping blanket they didn't use anymore. Ludy

already had a collection of old ceramic cups, tin camping plates,and some odds and ends forks, spoons and very, very dull knives. Ludy's favorite thing her Momma had given her was an old green vase shaped like a bunch of bluebonnets. Ludy’s Oma had given it to her Momma when she lived in Texas.That made it even more special to Ludy, because she loved her Oma very much.  The vase had a chip on one of the blooms but that didn’t matter, it was still very beautiful.

*Ludy loved all kinds of flowers and her vase was always full of something from the woods or their yard, her Momma would even buy flowers for her sometime, if they were on sale. Today it had dandelion blooms in it but she didn’t know who put them there.

*Because of the wind getting stronger, Ludy’s new blanket wouldn't stay on the branch she had put it on to make a wall. Her stick furniture kept moving to different parts of the room! Wind was fun sometimes and it made great music when it passed through the leaves in the big tree above her. This wind however was interrupting her play time.

*Ludy was getting tired but she wanted to stay in Violet House a while longer. So, she took the blanket from the limb and folded it over to make a sleeping bag. Ludy curled up inside and soon was fast asleep.

Rosemary Theobalt Wootton 7/3/13

*“Leafy”, an oak fairy, fluttered to the top of a deep hole in the back of the giant oak tree. “Oh my! Leafy said quietly.”the human child is asleep and there is a storm coming fast!” Leafy called for the other fairies with her whistle, that only the fairies could hear, kind of like a dog whistle. Viola, Barky, and Dandy Lion, came immediately to see what was going on. The fairies didn’t come to the surface very often during daylight hours. It wasn’t safe for them especially when the birds and cats were around, they didn’t want to end up being someone’s lunch! Barky said, “let’s get out of here it’s not our problem!” Viola responded back “ Barky, that is a horrible thing to say! We are good fairies, and it’s our job to help when we are needed!” Leafy chimed in “We must do something to help!” So the fairies tried sitting on Ludy’s sleeping bag to hold it down in the gusting wind but they were being blown all around. Suddenly, sand started blowing in with the wind and the fairies had an enormous decision to make! “We could use the fairy dust that makes things smaller" said Viola hesitantly, " but we only have a tiny bit and I don’t know if we can get anymore?” Finally,they all decided it was for the best to take Ludy into their underground world,where no human child had gone before! * Sprinkling her with the nearly extinct fairy dust, Ludy was made to fit into their world.Together they all went spiraling, down,down, down, carrying a sleeping Ludy, into the hole that led to Oakland, home of the great Oak Fairy. *The storm up above grew stronger and stronger until you couldn’t see Ludy’s house from the grove of trees. Gratefully, Ludy was safe and sound below ground level with a troop of fairies. Ludy slowly woke up from the effects of the fairy dust to find herself surrounded by bright colorful flickering lights and the slight whispering sounds of flapping fairy wings. “Wh,wh,wh, where am I?” Ludy asked, a little afraid to hear the answer. “You are safe my little friend “ answered Leafy. “We brought you here to keep you safe from the storm roaring above us.”Who, who, who are you?” Ludy stammered. “ We are the ancient guardians to the opening of Oakland, found at the base of the Grand Oak.” replied Dandy Lion. Let us introduce ourselves as Leafy pointed to Viola, “Hello, I’m Viola and I am very shy. I have a special gift of becoming invisible when it is necessary, and I love purple” Leafy directed her gaze toward Dandy Lion “ Hi! I’m Dandy Lion, I am not shy I’m funny, my gift is making others sneeze when I want them to. You can just call me Dandy!” They all turned to look at Leafy, “Hello, child. My name is Leafy and I am the granddaughter of the Great Oak ________ I am the leader of all the fairy clans, my gifts are varied, I can hear what others are thinking when it involves someone’s safety, I can see into the future but only when it is for protection of my clans, I also can call down mountains of leaves at a moments notice! I love green and have been accused of excessive mothering. Now tell us about you!
Rosemary Theobalt Wootton 7/6/13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to be a burden to my children...

I know it sounds a little crazy to want to be a burden to our children (grandchildren, friends, etc.)! This is a topic Hartley and I have talked about for years! We started this conversation when Hartley was in school at Duke, studying under Stanley Hauerwas. Dr. Hauerwas taught about death and dying in one of Hartley's classes and it went something like this;

• We need to be taught how to die
• Dying in your sleep without pain or the realization that you are dying is not a blessing
• Depending on a faith community of friends and family to walk with you through the process is a blessing (even if it means "being a burden")
• "It is a gift to live into your dying"
• Presence and prayer bring comfort and help alleviate fear.
• To learn how to die we must see someone die well.
• In The Book of Common Prayer in the Great Litany, there’s the prayer, “save me from all oppression, conspiracy, and rebellion; from violence, battle, and murder; and from dying suddenly and unprepared.” In the Middle Ages, what people feared was not death, they feared God. They prayed to be saved from a sudden death because they wanted to have time to repent and have their lives appropriately positioned to face God. Now we just fear death.
• "Friendship with God is the good that should form both how we live and how we die. When we learn how to be friends with God we learn something about what it means to die well."

Now that you have that taste of "learning to die well" I'd like to share with you a story about my mom and her death.

Momma told me, and everyone around her. that she would never ever be a burden to anyone and also said," I'll go out behind the barn and shoot myself before I will be a burden."!
Thankfully, we didn't have a barn when Mother began to have declining health!
My Momma was a very strong and independent woman never wanting to owe anyone anything. (She didn't mind other people owing her though)
She was a self made woman, owning numerous businesses.  Her last business was a diner/tea room with her sister, when she was 80!
Momma had a series of illnesses and complications plus the fact that she was legally blind. But she still wanted to drive, so I would take her to Wal-Mart so she could drive the motorized shopping carts!
Momma began having hallucinations (visions as she called them) and major paranoid phobias.
After numerous hospitalizations a decision had to be made, nursing home or our house. Momma accepted our house. Remember, this is the woman that didn't want to be a burden to anyone and now she is finding herself in a place of dependence on me, Hartley and our children. This was a big dose of pride she had to swallow!
We added a toilet and sink in our little spare bedroom,brought in a twin bed in place of the double bed and wallah Momma's space was ready before she got out of the hospital.
Hartley and I took turns with a paid caregiver during the day and it worked out well.
Momma took a sharp turn for the worse, about a month after she moved in with us, so back to the hospital (don't get me started on that). After 10 days of staying with her day and night so she got the proper care I asked a doctor directly "Is my Mother dying?" He hesitantly replied, "yes."  He said it was a "failure to thrive". My reaction was,"why the hell are we still here, call hospice! I am taking her home!"
Hospice beat us to the house! The hospital bed was in place and a nurse was ready to teach Hartley and I how to take care of Momma's physical and medical needs.
Before Anna, our hospice nurse, left I began to cry. "I can't do this! I can't do this!" It was like going home from the hospital with your first baby, there wasn't a manual for this. Anna hugged me and said she was just a phone call away and yes, you can do this.
I think this is when the above "bullet points" kicked in.
I stayed by Momma's side most of the day and all of the night. I sang to her, read to her and constantly held her hand. One time she squeezed my hand and said "enough singing"! Another time my brother, Coy, and Hartley were turning her for a suppository when she perked up and said, "I'm gonna poot on you". They both died laughing!  I must say, Hartley was Momma's Prince! He did all the lifting, shots. suppositories, and clean up. (especially when my gag reflexes were working overtime)  He was my hero through it all as well!
We continued having our regular weekly "life group" meetings and everyone would go in and pray for her or just touch her hand. When it was time for "communion" to be taken, someone from the group would go in and serve Momma. The last morsel of food she took in was "the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ".
Most of Momma's friends and all of her family had made it in to see her.  Leaving her with a blessing and taking a blessing back with them.
Time was coming to an end, as we know it, for Momma. We called in our children and community of faith to pray the prayer service for the dying from The Book of Common Prayer. There were about 20 of us there including momma's sister and 2 nieces. It was truly a glorious moment, the Spirit of God was so beautifully evident in that sacred space. After the prayer service everyone filed out after leaving momma with a kiss or a touch, to a meal we had prepared for them.  We spent the evening telling stories while we ate, laughed and cried.
The house, now empty and quiet, as I sat with momma a few more days until she took her final breath and made the journey to her heavenly home.
I feel like momma died perfectly. And it made such an impact on so many people, young and old, that participated in her death journey.
It was 7 years, June 18th, that momma died but I remember it like yesterday. Often when I receive communion I remember for her it was the last taste she experienced before meeting "The One" face to face that had provided that sacrament for her.
Momma's death journey obviously is not the only way to die, but when it is possible, try to allow your loved ones to be a burden on you. It is truly a life changing event, that will live with you until it's your time to be a "blessed burden".
We do not know how or when a friend or a loved one will make the journey of death, so let's try to love them really well so we don't have any regrets when that time arrives.
Peace, till we visit again! Remember life's full of wonderful adventures awaiting and death happens to be one of them.
I want to take this space to say thank you to Dr. Stanley Hauerwas for all he taught Hartley and vicariously taught me. Thank you Dr. Hauerwas!

Loss

I am thinking a lot about loss today.  Not a real happy train of thought but sometimes a necessary one because none of us escapes losses.  My precious husband has a dear friend and past employer that has just experienced the death of his  his only son, Walt, at the age of 33; the autopsy said Walt had died of a massive heart attack.  I want to share a portion of a letter Hartley sent to his friend.

"Grief comes in numerous packages and it is often
masked by anger toward the only one who could have done something to
prevent your tragedy, God. It's okay to tell him just how mad you are;
He's big enough to take a frontal assault and gracious enough to
recognize it is the product of a pain for which there are no adequate
answers to the question, "Why?"

As Christians I suppose the only redemptive thing to look for in such
an event is the recollection that ultimately our hope is not here; it's
not in material well being and the illusion of security it gives, not
in our plans for the future, and not even in our children, despite the
emotional and material investment they represent; rather, our hope is
in a future which we are powerless to produce, a future in which all
that is wrong now finally will be made right; it is a future which God
alone is able to make happen.

Please feel free to call any time you wish. You can cuss God
all you want with me; you should feel free to express whatever you are
feeling, whether it is in the form of sadness and tears, bewilderment,
anger, abandonment, or whatever it happens to be. I'm available at any
time, really.

Your friend,
Hartley"

Loss whether it is the loss of a child, a marriage, a friendship even a business sends us into places of grief and anger we could never imagine ourselves going.  It's okay, go ahead and go there just don't go alone. This calls for your community of faith,wonderful counselors and true friends whether near you or far away to walk this path with you.   I recall a scripture, "And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow--not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love."
In time, the intenseness of the grief will gradually fade and we will be able to feel semi normal again.
You who are suffering are not alone. I may not know you personally but I will be more than happy to walk along side you and uphold you in my prayers.
There are so many types of losses, and all are very painful, and all need time to heal.
 I wish you PEACE until we visit again, and feel free to leave me a comment or prayer request. I take these very seriously and I am here and will walk with you to the best of my ability.
I dedicate this post to Connally and Bolivia Powell . May Walt rest in peace.
Thank you Hartley for allowing me to show your heart and your love for your friend.