No, never alone...

When I was a little girl, I shared a bedroom with my sister Rachel. She was invited to spend a week with our Grandmother one summer, which meant that I had to sleep alone, and I was afraid of the dark. My Mom came in to comfort me, and told me that if I had Jesus in my heart, I would never be alone, and wouldn't be afraid anymore. I was about six years old, and I remember turning over onto my tummy, and with my face in the pillow, I asked Jesus to come into my heart.

Last night, was the first night I have slept alone in my house, since Bob died ten months ago. My son, John has been staying with me, but is out of town for the weekend, visiting his sister in Oregon. I wondered how I would sleep.

I slept well. I wasn't afraid of the dark. Jesus had come in to stay when I invited Him in. He told His disciples "I will never leave you or forsake you."

I was NOT alone.

My life is on hold...

With everything I own scooped up and shoved into boxes and stacked in the garage, I feel like my life is on hold. This computer will be moved to a location somewhere in the kitchen.

Boxes line the walls in the dining area of the kitchen, and a love seat rocker is against the other wall. The kitchen table is reduced to its smallest size and placed in front of the ovens, with barely enough space to open the refrigerator door. A chest of drawers and a big desk are added to the space where the table belongs. John will put his mattress on the floor in the remaining space and sleep there Thursday night. His chest of drawers is in the garage. He can shave and wash up at the stationary tub. Brrr.

All the rest of my furniture will be set outside under the patio roof. Hope it doesn't rain. I have invited myself to sleep overnight at my neighbor Kay's, who graciously agreed.

Then, the floor people will come and refinish the hardwood floors I wrote about in my blog on shag carpeting. If they can get it all done in one day, we can begin to live here again. A water-based finish is going to be used, so there won't be any fumes to avoid. I wonder how long it will take me to find whatever I was looking for...

In my former life...

It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'

He is no longer here, for He is risen! What words of comfort on this Good Friday afternoon, when sorrow filled the hearts of the believers on that first Good Friday. We KNOW that Resurrection Day is coming, but they didn't. They thought they had lost their only saviour. But we KNOW it was only a temporary loss. They mourned. But we are ready to celebrate.

Happy Resurrection Day, all you who pass by.

The photo of my Night Blooming Cereus was taken last summer. The plant looks wierdly limp, and shows little sign of life all year. Then one evening the buds mature, and during the NIGHT the flower comes to life, opening a tiny hole that you can look into and see the intricate design. Then it unfurls and spreads to about 7 inches across. Big as my hand opened wide. No one would see it unless they believed me. No one would notice it's fragrance unless they were told to sniff the air. It's like resurrection. You gotta believe it, or you won't see it.

What's in YOUR bucket?

When we set up our family trust, I thought everything was taken care of, but today I found out from my financial advisor that it's like buying a BUCKET and then having to run around and find all the things that have to be put into the bucket. I had sent him a notice that we wanted to put our IRA's into it, last March. But somehow, that got overlooked. So, today, we went to a notary and got it done. Yea.

So, be warned. Just because you pay $500. or $5,000. for a trust, all you may be getting is the BUCKET.

When John sent everyone on my email address list a notice about my birthday last year, with a request that they bring me a 6-pack of COSMOS plants from a local store having a sale, our financial advisor got the same request.

When the doorbell rang, I couldn't believe it, when I saw him standing there in three-piece suit and tie, with his teen-aged daughter, with armloads of COSMOS plants. What a funny sight. He didn't know Bob was so sick, but I brought him in to the family room, where Bob's hospital bed was set up, and they laughed and talked and shook hands, and said their goodbyes, with some mist in their eyes.

Today, he asked all about each of my kids, and took time to talk about Bob. What a treat to do business with a friend.

My bucket runneth over.

It makes me feel so young...

Here it is TAX season, and the Empty Nesters group at church were partying last night with about 50 folks who should have been home filling in their forms.

The hosts used TAXES as their theme for decorating, and for the menu. Little money trees on each table held tiny envelopes with "Eternal Revenue Service" for a return address. And little Monopoly-sized folding money was attached to the trees. Gold-covered chocolate coins were scattered about. The place mats were copies of one of the IRS forms, over a green sheet of paper. The menu was printed out.

For instance,
CPA appetizers... were Cashews, Peanuts, and Almonds.
Greenback Salad- delicious mixed greens and asparagus

Miserstroni Soup- wonderful homemade stuff
Poor Boy sandwiches (meat balls on a hot-dog bun) with sliced cheese
Coined relish (Sweet and hot pickled coined carrots and veggies)

and for dessert...
Pay Dirt (an absolutely delicious whipped cream pudding with layers of crushed Oreo creme-filled cookies.)

Favors at each place setting were "PAY DAY" candy bars.

John was invited to come and play the piano for a hymn sing. But first, he wanted suggestions for songs around the theme.

"Jesus Paid It All," "Take My Life and Let It Be," "I Surrender All," "Nor Silver, Nor Gold... ," and I suggested "Three Coins in the Fountain," but it didn't fly.

People really enjoyed the food and the fellowship, and sang heartily while John played old familiar hymns. Everyone said it was the best hymn sing-along yet. John even asked me to join him on a piano duet. So, we played a rousing rendition of "The Assurance March." Some folks even knew the words to that.

Wonder why I hang around with all these old folks?

It makes me feel so young...

Rosa, where's my Coke?

Through Bob's last weeks, I was privileged to be his care-giver. Everything from coaxing him to "take another bite" to brushing his teeth for him.

On that last Saturday in June, I phoned the Hospice volunteers. My back wouldn't let me do the usual lifting, and I decided I needed help with his bath.

Nurse Rosa came. Tiny, strong, Spanish-speaking gal from Peru. She pitched in to help give Bob his bath, and change his sheets. I had already washed his face and hands, and shampooed his hair. I had already shaved him, and slathered his "Stinkum" (after-shave) on his face. While she gently lifted each leg, she slowly swung it up and down, like a pendulum. It was good for circulation, she told me.

It was a warm morning, and Bob asked if he could have some Coke. (I had gone out the week before and bought $65.00 worth of juices, flavored waters, and soft drinks, hoping something would taste good to him.) So, I was happy that he wanted some Coke. I fixed it up with ice, and a bendy straw, and he sipped it, giving little satisfied sounds. Then, I'd set it on the table, and help Rosa with his bath.

In a minute or two, he said, "Rosa, where's my Coke?"

She chuckled. And took the blame for putting it down.

It took two hours for his bath that day. Rosa was in no hurry as she slathered him with skin lotion, and rubbed his heels and elbows. She is a Christian, and showered her gentle kindness on Bob. She kept calling him, "Dear."

And every once in a while, Bob would "demand" again, "Rosa, where's my Coke?"

It makes me laugh to think of it.