My Babies Have All Come Home

There are certain times in your life that you know you will face heartbreak. It is just something that really can't be avoided during ones life. And even though you know it is going to happen, you know you wouldn't miss the times together to avoid the heart ache. And in the end, what you remember most are the happy times, and keep those memories closest to your heart. But you have to experience the aches to find joy in the memories.

Next to children and grandchildren, the greatest gifts we can have are our furbabies. And in recent years, I have been blessed with several children and grandchildren that had 4 legs. And along with bringing them into my life, I have known that there would come the day when they would leave, and my world would be torn apart. And when you have several of them that are near the same age, you know that the pain will come just as close together. And that for a while, the tears will seem to flow constantly. And this is exactly how it has been.

Bailey came to us as a work dog. My son-in-law Aric decided to be the K-9 officer, and Bailey was his service dog. Bailey was one huge boy, big head, loud, deep bark, and he would definitely stop you in your tracks. But Bailey had another side to him, the side that only a few got to see. Bailey would love to come to Grandma's house. I would keep him when Dianna and Aric were out of town, and he was the biggest baby ever! He would sprawl out across the foot of the bed, and when I told him to move, he would just lift his head as if to say, "what?" But one night, he got sick, and they received the bad news. Bailey had cancer. The prognosis wasn't good, but they fought the fight. But the end was written early and one day he just went to sleep. And in May of 2010, I found myself digging a hole alongside Aric, speaking words of good-bye to a baby who was so special to me. And knowing that, even though his life was short, he was very loved indeed.

Molly was found as a dumped dog, a puppy, on a road in Missouri in December. That they expected her to die was evident. But she didn't. Aric took her to Dianna, who didn't have the time for an active dog, so she came to live with me. And the adventures we had! She traveled all over the country with me, living in apartments and RVs, and being not only my best friend, but my companion, my protector, my confidant, my sounding board, and my decision maker at times. She was so very special, it was incredible. The stories I could tell, but that would take too long. But she got sick. She had a tumor on her leg, and the treatment was going to be too hard on her, so we just spent the time we had together, praying for more time. Hoping that things would be alright, and knowing that they wouldn't. And one night, the tumor ruptured, and the horrible decision that I had to make still haunts me. And I found myself, once again, in February 2012, digging a hole alongside Aric, and laying to rest my beloved girl. Along with a blanket, and a toy, I covered her up and knew that life was not fair, and would never be the same again.

Life sometimes throws you curves when you are not ready for them, and this curve was named Pup. He was all of 7 pounds, and kept wandering into the yard. Covered with ticks, and wearing a stupid red sweater (in late spring) I knew that he probably ran away from someone. But no one claimed him, so what was a person to do. My vet had told me, after loosing Molly, that he hoped that I would open my heart to another dog. Well, I believe this was the reason Pup came into my life. Cause I fell hard and fast for his little face. But lasting was not to be, as he was hit by a car. And this time I found myself digging a hole, wrapping up the boy who taught me that it was alright to love again, and laying him to rest. And 2012 was not done yet.

Then there was Anna. Anna was a full-blooded German Shepherd who tipped the scales at over 100 pounds. This baby was kept locked in a laundry room, and had no chance to go outside and run and play. Aric heard about her, and took her home. She was another one who loved to come to Grandma's house, and would just run and play, and have the best time. She had hip problems, and would sometimes just moan from the pain. Medicine helped for a while. And my thought was it was better to have a short life lived well than a long one lived sad. And the pain eased and the joy she found in life was so evident in her face. Then she started to get sick as well. Her joints hurt, and in spite of the medicines, life became painful. She tried to fight as well, but running free was her only relief, and one day in December 2012 she too closed her eyes and went to sleep. So once again I found my self digging a hole, alongside Aric, saying good-bye to a baby who was so special, wrapping her in a blanket and with some toys, and knowing that she was reunited once again with her brother. But feeling the pain just as much.

Last night, the final one from that group crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. Thunder was born in 2000 in the deserts of Arizona. I knew her as a puppy, and she was so full of life and so very special. When I left Arizona, the person who had her told me that they were taking care of her, but I found out otherwise. So to Arizona I went and brought her back home. Since I was traveling with my job, she came to be Dianna's baby. And they were perfect together. Thunder didn't require a lot of extra attention. She loved to cuddle, never had to be on a leash to be outside, minded extremely well, and never tore anything up she wasn't suppose to. She would play with the other puppies, and the heeler in her came out (She was chow and Australian Shepard mix) and she would grab for the other puppies back legs! Her black tongue and color showed her Chow, and many people were surprised at her disposition. She developed glaucoma, and did well with sight in only one eye. But one morning, she woke up blind. Nothing could be done. But Thunder adjusted well, and still had a great life. But life continued to go down for her. She lost her hearing, than she started loosing weight. She had problems, and was on medicine, and wasn't getting any better. Dianna knew it was getting close, so they took her to the Vet. She didn't want her to suffer, but didn't want to feel as if she had killed her either. The vet told them that time was short, but she wasn't in pain. And he felt she would just go to sleep. And she did, the next day. But unlike Anna and Bailey, she didn't want her Mom or Dad to see her go, so she waited until they were both gone, and she closed her eyes and left. So last night I found myself, once again, digging a hole with Aric, saying good-bye to another baby who was so special and so very loved, wrapping her in a blanket with a toy, and laying her to rest next to her brother and sister. 

There are 3 boys in my life now, Jake who is 4, Sam who is 3, and Max who is 2. I sit outside on the porch and watch my boys running around, and can see where my other babies are all resting, until we can be together again. I know that one day, I will have to face this task yet again. Because of their age, I hope it is many years in the future, but we never know for sure. The pain that I feel from loosing them is hard, but the memories of the love they shared with me makes it easier. And as long as you hurt, you are alive, and that is a good thing. As I try to type this, with tears running down my face, I know that I can take comfort that, for now, once again, all my babies are safe and home with me. 

Death is....

Have been thinking a lot about writing this, but have taken several days to reflect on what it is I want to really say, and how it is to be taken. And hopefully this will make some things easier for me to understand in the process.
Last week was a very hard week to get through. And made me think about life in general, and death specifically. Now death is nothing new to me, lets face it, I work in a job where facing death is a daily thing. People are born, they live, they die, it is the natural progression of life. Has been happening for thousands of years, and hopefully will continue for thousands more. But have we become immune to death that we don't think about how it affects others? Do we just don't care? Or are we scared of what there is to follow that we just block it out from our minds; out of site out of mind.

A week ago last Friday, my cousin's husband died. They had recently diagnosed him with cancer, and the last time I saw him, he looked bad. But he had started chemotherapy, and was hoping to battle this terrible disease with all that he had. But his body had other thoughts, and his heart couldn't handle the strain of the treatment as well as the disease. He had a heart attack. And after multiple stents, he had an arterial occlusion, and the outcome was not good. He finally lost the battle and died. So young, only 59. And so he was buried on Wednesday.

I went to the funeral home, and sat in a chair, and looked around at the people gathered there. Many I didn't know, as my relationship was with his wife. But I looked at the few people gathered, and wondered about them and their life. Were they thinking of the man who had just died, or were they, like me, wondering about their own death? Because we never know when that time might come, how it will come, or the aftermath of our passing.

I sat there listening to the minister talking, a cousin of mine actually, but my mind was wandering to my own passing. I saw the flowers on either side of the casket (only 3 plants of flowers to celebrate a man's life...maybe many just gave money as I did, as the family would definitely need the cash more.) And I looked at the number of people who had attended. Such a small turn-out to celebrate someone who was so loved by his wife and step-children. And I wondered how many chairs would be filled when my time came? And the really sad part was....I think probably even less than he had. Everyone's lives are so busy making a living and having fun, that we often forget about others in the process. We push so far ahead that we miss what we have left behind. And than one day, there is no one behind, and we wonder what happened.

We left for the cemetery, and because his burial was a distance from the town, the drive took a while. Bad idea, cause it gave me plenty of time to think during the drive and so much of the time I was just shaking my head. Here we were, in a funeral procession, with the hearse and pall bearer car, followed by several cars all with headlights and flashers on, moving down the highway. And the number of cars that just drove on by going the other way was just amazing. What happened to respecting the dead? Respect would be to pull over immediately when you recognized a procession, and sit until the last car had passed. But few did this. Have we become so engrossed in our own lives that we can't take a minute to respect the family that is grieving for a lost member? That we can't say a silent prayer to help ease the pain. That we can't take a minute from our oh so busy lives to think for that minute about someone else? Now, I would never advocate someone being in a dangerous situation by stopping. But most of this road was one you could pull over without danger. So why didn't they?

I often think about the future and what it will bring. My mother died in her 30's and my father died at 59, so of course this plays a big part in my thoughts. And I wonder about that day. Will people stop and take the time to remember me, or will their lives be so important that they just can't take the time? Will I be missed at work, or will I just be a person that has to be replaced? Will my grandchildren take the time to tell me good-bye or will their social lives be too important to be bothered? And during that last drive, will any cars bother to show respect for me by pulling over, or will they just fly by on their way to their oh so important meeting? Morbid thoughts maybe, but they are truthful.

How do you measure a life-time of work? Does your death totally reflect how you lived? I would like to think that my life has impacted others, for the good. That I will be missed by others, and thought of often in good ways. That someone will have learned something from me that has made their life easier. But I just don't know that any of this is true. I look ahead to my funeral, and I see...a handful of chairs with people in them. I see pallbearers that I don't know, cause they couldn't get enough people that I do to perform the task. I see a minister I don't know talking about me in a generic message. And I see a funeral procession so short that if you blink you drive right by it. I guess my fear is having lived a life that made no difference to anyone, and that is a wasted life. That's it, I am just not going to die...this depresses me!!

So be sure to tell those that have touched your life that they made a difference. Hug your children and grandchildren a lot, as often as they will allow you to. Do something so that at your passing, others will know that you are gone, and will know that their world is now forever changed.

Health For Haiti 2013

This is what we were using during our fundraising, so this is how I have been thinking of my recent trip to the country of Haiti. For those that do not know, last fall I visited the country on a mission trip. My friend Drena had asked about going, and seeing no reason to not, I went with her. Little did I realize just what an impact that decision would have on my life.
While there, we helped with Bible School, swam in the Carribean Sea, and walked around trying to get to know the people of Carrefour a little bit better. And in the process, Carrefour got under my heart just a little bit....ok, a big bit. I met a young girl, and from that meeting, nothing would be the same.
Upon arriving back home, my thoughts turned to returning in a fashion that is more my style, and the idea of a medical mission was born. A work connection led me to Homayon, which led to International Medical Aid, an organization which does medical missions all over the world. We started to talk, and decided we would try to make this dream a reality. Months later, a set place or date could not be established, and my idea was that this was not going to happen, and I started to turn to other ideas for the summer. Than a random picture, which I find out later only happened because the person posting it could not send it directly to another person, appeared on Facebook. A comment led to a response, and than to an email, which led me to Mickey and Tammy of Bread To The Nations. Some more emails and conversations, and our trip was set!
My niece and I spent last week working with these two organizations, and for me, the feelings remain unchanged. Over the course of 2 1/2 days (mind you, these were 8 hour days) we saw 525 patients. Many were children, a few older persons, and some had chronic conditions that had not been adequately treated. But overall, it stills drives home just what the people of Haiti deal with daily. I saw several persons who were trapped in the rubble surrounding the earthquake. These were not just faceless persons any longer. The young boy who will forever carry a huge scar on his head from the quake, and the young man who can no longer bend one knee. The mountainside which still holds the scars where it fell down that day, killing people in the mine and destroying a school full of children. The many people who can't read or write, the young lady who wanted the birth control shot but who didn't have the $3 or so that it would take to do the pregnancy test and injection. The mothers with small babies who do not have enough to eat or drink to produce enough milk to feed their infants. These no longer are faceless statistics but real people with real problems. Problems which many have no idea how to deal with to make life-long changes.
Than there are the children. The smiling faces of the boys and girls, who can find happiness in a look, who can make a toy from a piece of cardboard, and who seem to find gladness in finding someone to laugh with and to hold their hands. They don't have fancy toys, or computers, or even enough to eat, but they have smiles which go on forever, and which cause you to smile back, cause you just can't help yourself.
525 patients...even for a busy ER this was swamped. Heat and sweating, sometimes with no power for the fans, having to use a translator for every conversation because they don't know English and I don't know Haitian, and wondering how you will ever get it all done. But done we did, inside what we could do. The medicines ran low, but the patients did not. And many were left unseen because there just wasn't enough time or medicine to see them all. And that feeling of just not having done enough which will not go away.
Now that I am back at home, reflecting on my time there, with my hot cup of coffee and my cooler weather, I know that, without a doubt, it was definitely something that needed to be done, and something which I plan to do again next year. To know that you made a difference, even in a small way, is a feeling that has to be experienced to be understood. To hear my niece describe her feelings of being there, and talking about going back again, I know that Haiti has gotten under her heart, as it has mine. And that is a good place for it to be.
Bread To The Nations has a plan for Haiti, and encompasses working on this generation to effect a change in the next one. To teach mothers and children regarding hygiene, and clean water, and ways to help improve the nutritional value of foods they prepare. They are working with malnourished children, helping them to improve and survive where they might have previously died. And they are encouraging mothers to take the lead in teaching others proper ways of doing things, and this leads to Haitians truly helping Haitians, which is what everyone wants. Sometimes you just have to give the education to be able to achieve the goal.
International Medical Aid is such an amazing organization. Listening to Homayon talk about their future goals, and how they are striving to achieve them can leave you tired! But the goal is improved health to many different countries, not just one time but on a recurring basis. And Haiti has now been added to the list of countries which will receive these clinics. What a wonderful first experience for me in doing a medical clinic! Seeing the passion that both these organizations has for what they do, well it gives hope that things are going to get better for many people around the world.
I got to see that young girl, as well as the child in the picture....and know that God placed them where he did for an exact reason...to lead to the creation of this medical trip, and for future trips to this country. He does work in mysterious ways, you just have to listen to the signs and feel for that slight tapping on your shoulder. So I hope that, if you feel a slight brush against your face, and get an inkling to do something like this, you pay attention. I remember watching those commercials for the Peace Corps, how they said it was the toughest job you would ever love, and wondering just what exactly that meant. Well, I know now...and it is right....all the sweating, and heat, and long flights; the money spent for the trip; being away from home and loved ones....it all was so very worth it!

Still Wondering

I have always been a very private person. Very few know the real me, very few get that close, and that does bring me much comfort most of the time. But as a few of you know, the last year has been a very hard one for me, in trying to deal with several losses. Some of them, well there was nothing I could do to stop them. Death comes to all, and even if we are not ready, it will happen. Sometimes by an accident, sometimes by a disease. From those, you just have to continue. But when the "death" comes from something stupid, it makes it much harder to deal with. And that is where I am right now.
I had a friend, one that welcomed my youngest daughter into the world. I didn't think that anything could ever break us apart. Little did I know how easy that would be to happen.
I guess this is all brought back up again because I heard her on the radio the other day. And it started me to thinking about it all again. Not that it ever has gone away, because it hasn't. And it made me start to think....what was a lie?
When I think about the times we had together, about the struggles we experienced, about the laughs we shared, were they all lies? Was I a "fair weather" friend, and as soon as someone else came along, no longer important? So does that negate all the memories we shared? I just don't know. I somehow wonder if it means that the memories were only important to me and not to her. Else, how could you walk away from 30 years without looking back.
I still mourn the loss of my best friend, even if she meant more to me than I meant to her. The dreams of growing old together are gone, and sadness has taken that place as well. Life goes on, and I must too. I have resigned myself that what is gone will never be again. But that doesn't take away the sadness that still remains.

Onset Of Fall

Well, that time of year has started...the beginning of fall and the soon onset of winter. The mower has been put away, the sheds cleaned out, and the leaves are falling from the trees. And as much as we would love to not have it (most of us anyway) the snow will be falling and turning our grass into a blanket of snow. So now is a time to reflect on the past year, and think about the upcoming months.

This year has been hard, emotionally anyway, for me. Loss is hard to get over, and sometimes I don't believe you every actually do totally get over it, you just try to survive. That is where I am. A thought, a smell, a photo brings back all the pain. Only time will see how much better it gets. But on to other things
.
I haven't written for a while. Been busy with a lot of things. I look at my list on the refrigerator, and some things are marked off...some are not...and many will be added to the new list that will get started with the turning of the new calendar. Always something to do.

Looking ahead, well that is something that is a mixed set of feelings. Christmas has been celebrated with my best friend, and now that is over....hard to think of her not being there. But I can only do so much...

Our family has so much trouble all of us getting together that we only have 1 holiday gathering. Our plans are on...so hope that everyone gets off, gets there, and that the weather cooperates and we have a great time, like we do most years...and no guys, a cirlce does not mean grapevine..stop cheating!! It does make for happy memories and good times teasing for years to come.

One of the more recent holiday celebrations involves....the story box. My friend Drena does the most magnificant stories and tales. And every season she does a story, incorporating members of my "axe murdering group". She sends little gifts to be opened during the reading of the story. And makes it so much fun. But the best part...she makes each person the star, the hero, the one who "gets the guy" in the end. But even better...she lets us know that she really cares about us. That we are not alone, no matter what. That someone will always remember us and want to be a part of our lives. That this set of misfits now do belong to something that surrounds us, draws us together, and gives us a feeling of home even when we all live so far apart.

Christmas is all about love. The love of our family, the love of our friends, and the greatest love, the love of our Heavenly Father. What could be a better way to celebrate the season.

Makes me wonder

Hi all, and hope everyone (my one or two readers, lol) are doing well and managing to stay cool in this unusual weather we are having right now. Boy, the weather must be taking something, cause it just can't make up its mind what it wants to do. First hot than cold, than hot again, than cool, now headed into the hot. I for one am not going to complain too much, cause I like it hot and am not looking forward to winter returning again. But I do have a new front door and storm door compliments of the wonderful assistance from my son and daughter in law (I paid, they helped with the muscle) so hopefully the winter winds will stay outside where they belong.
This year has been a hard one, for many reasons. Like much of the country, the job outlook is bleak right now. And this is no different where I work. Cut backs, no raises (nope, no cost of living raise at all), hoping that they don't start laying off, and not being sure what next month is going to bring makes it hard to have a good outlook for the future. Listening to the news doesn't help. Do the people in Washington not realize how hard it is for the working class these days? They have their safe and secure (until the next election) jobs and than tell us we need to give more and have less? Please, get real...the working class is supporting this country, everyone else needs to buck up and help.
Those that have followed this blog (yep, meaning you one or two) have read about my lost friendship. That hasn't changed either and that is hard to deal with. But as I have no choice, will make the best of the situation. But it makes me wonder....do they even think about me? Wish they had done something differently? Miss what we had? Or have they just put it out of their minds and are now happier with their new "best friends?" I will never know, but it does make me wonder.
Which brings me to....what makes someone think they can determine what is best for someone else? I recently read a blog, and by reading I could tell the writer was being very judgmental about someone else, and "looking down their noses" at a person/group of people. Do you make yourself feel better about something if you do this? Does it clear your conscious to say these things? Or are you just thinking you know better? I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but my mind does reflect on them a lot. And I think that maybe you need to examine yourself a little bit more before you say such things. He who is without sin....may be a phrase that should be remembered a little bit more often and followed. Can we ever advance as a person, let alone a nation unless we become more accepting of others, and realize that we don't know it all, in spite of what we may think. And karma does have a way of coming back to bite you when you least expect it. I truly believe that what goes around comes around, so you should always be prepared. Or best yet, don't say what hurts others. Because it does, even if you don't want to admit it.
And to the other reader (not you two, that other one) I hope that you remember what hurting feels like, because Karma will come back around, and it will be a bitter pill to swallow.
And I know this probably doesn't make any sense, but it made me feel better, so am glad I wrote it!
Stay cool and have a wonderful rest of the month!

Memorial Day

For years, I can remember my Grandmother going around to the cemeteries, and placing flowers on the graves. I didn't really understand what the hoopla was all about, when I was a kid. But as the years have rolled by, I feel a bit differently about this tradition, and cemeteries in general.
Growing up, cemeteries were always scary places. They had all those stones with the names of dead people, and they were creepy. I hated to go to the cemetery, cause I was just scared. And than when I was a teen-ager, I seemed to be leaving everyone I loved in a cemetery, and that didn't make it any better. And still I was scared, and it still seemed creepy.
Now, it is different. I don't go often to where my loved ones are buried. Why? Well, mostly because it is a drive to get there, and, well, there are so many things to do that finding the time is hard. But when I do get there, I no longer find it creepy. And in some ways, it is peaceful.
I often go with my daughter, who helps me place the flower arrangements around the stone. But sometimes, when she is busy, I go by myself. I clean the weeds and grass away, remove the old flowers, and place the new. And than I sit down and think. I touch the stone, as if in some way I can touch their faces once again. I talk to them, catch them up on what my kids have been doing. I tell them all about my grandkids, how they are growing and what they have been up to in school. I tell my grandfather how proud he would be of his great-grandsons, and how he would love to take them hunting and fishing. I tell my Mother and Grandmother about my granddaughter, and how proud they would be of her, so smart and pretty, and kind. And I feel bad that they will never know these people who mean so much to me. I am sad of the times we didn't get to spend together. Of all the times I so wanted to talk to them, and couldn't. Of what we missed. Of what we never had the chance to enjoy.
And I wonder what will happen when I am gone. Will my daughter continue to come and do the flowers as we have in the past? Or will they become a burden to her, through no fault of her own. She does have her own family to think of, and these are people she has never even met. And will my grandson feel creeped out in the cemetery? Will he not want to come to my final resting place because of that? I hope not. I hope that he will always be able to feel the love I have for him, and know that even death won't change that.
I often just wander around the smaller cemteries around my house, and I look at the stones. I wonder at the people who those stones represent. Some of the stones are now falling down, many no one places flowers around. Often you can't even read the stones anymore. But I touch the stones, and wonder at the life they represent. And sometimes just sit and listen, to see if I hear a story in the wind. And I no longer feel creeped out, but a sense of peace. These stones represent people, many who died way too soon, as did my Mother. They had people who loved them, and at one time missed them.
I still don't like death, but the cemeteries no longer creep me out. And now I understand why we spend all those days visiting the cemeteries and placing the flowers. My Grandmother understand, and now so do I. Maybe time does change a lot of things after all. So place a flower at a family member's grave, or if it is too far away, at a grave of someone you don't know that doesn't seem to have anyone. And close your eyes and listen. Did you feel that wisp of air along your cheek? That was a kiss from an angel, telling you thank you. Because as long as one person remembers, no one is truly forgotten. Happy Memorial Day Everyone.