I wake up aware that a week ago I was driving at this time to the Heartland Care Center to be with Chuck. I remember praying in the prayer room that Chuck would be able to let go today and go with God. It was time.
And, of course, my prayer was answered in every way. I was present with him and speaking my love to him as he departed this earth. I can see it all in my mind and continue to see it in wonder and deep sadness.
I have been reading Grieving Mindfully and am reminded that it takes about two years for people to "regain resilience." A week, then is just a beginning of a long spiral staircase that is the journey.
And here I am.
My weekend was clouds and sunshine. I went to two movies and one musical and enjoyed them all with occasional times of tearing inappropriately. But that is who I am these days. The good news is - who can see in the dark?
With granddaughters and daughters we are getting the details of the "Celebration of Life" put together. Planning a service, writing an obituary and sorting through hundreds of pictures for a slide show. All of it is fun and work and shared sorrow. I have the added gift of immense love and pride in Kacey, Marnie, Audrey, Alyse, and Reagan who worked together so well at the computer. There is no doubt in my mind that shared grief really lightens the pain.
What I find myself drawn to daily is time alone with journal and books on grieving. One of the books I am reading is The Five Invitations and here is some of what I underlined yesterday. It resonates with my experience of this time:
"You have to open yourself up and let the pain move through you."
It was possible to gather up the suffering in my life, use it as grist for the mill, and alchemically change it into the fuel for selfless service - all without making a big deal about it.
I have witnessed a heart--opening occurring in not only people near death, but also their caregivers. They found a depth of love within themselves that they didn't know they had access to. They disvocered a progound trust in the universe and the reliable goodness of humanity that never abandoned them, regardless of the suffering they encountered.
Death awaken presence, an intimacy with ourselves and all that is alive.
Being has certain attributes or essential qualities that live as potentials within each of us. These qualities help us to mature, to become more functional and productive. They fill out our humanity and add a richness, beauty, and capacity to our lives.
It might be more helpful to think of them as our inner guidance system, which can lead us to a greater sense of well being.
I write all of these quotes in this blog so that I can come back and refer to it. The heart opening certainly happened at the end between both Chuck and me. Both our words and actions toward each other were more loving and real than ever in our lives. I felt like I was drawing from a deep pool of love that had grown during our 25 years together.
And now, I keep remembering how "the universe" - or my loving abiding God - was so present during the last few weeks and trusting that now - in these days of clouds and shadow - that God is at work everywhere as I come to live into life without Chuck.
Monday, December 31, 2018
Friday, December 28, 2018
I Grieve
My day is a mixture of household tasks, distraction, talking to friends on the phone, visiting with people, and crying. Now it appears that Alyse, Lisa, Rachel and I will get jewelry with a piece of his cremains in it. Who knew that on reflection I would decide I wanted this? But I do. A reminder of my love that I have and possibly wear. YES. That feels rightl
Facebook and email has been a source of comfort. Kacey posted about her grief and included many pictures of Chuck. I read it, the comments, I cried and felt connected. I remember when my Dad died and the flags were at half mast in Southern Shores and how much less solitary the grief felt. This is like that.
Jim and Holly came for lunch and I got to tell the story again about the last week. They were with me a week before he died and none of us imagined he would leave so quickly. I decided I wanted Jim to speak in the celebration of life and share the "good news." This gives me peace.
Later that afternoon I got a present from Sarah that had been sent before she knew of Chuck's death: a signed copy of Almost Everything; Notes on Hope by Anne Lamott. I started reading it today and underlined these words:
"Love has bridged the high-rises of despair we were about to fall between. Love has been a penlight in the blackest, bleakest night. Love has been a wild animal, a poulTice, a dinghy, a coat. Love is why we have hope."
I went to dinner with John Lindamood and Sherie. I missed Chuck so much because we were always a foursome. Sherie gave me two books and journal. The books she had bought before Chuck got so sick were these: Grieving Mindfully by Sameet M. Kumar and The Five Invitations: Discovering what death can teach us about Living Fully by Frank Ostaseski. I feel like the grace of God continues in these gifts. Here is some of what I underlined this morning:
"Awareness is allowing yourself to accept the pain of frief, thereby finding relief in not running away from your loss.
Grieving mindfully is the process of using our emotional vulnerability not to suffer greater distress, or to intensify your pain, but to redirect this pain toward your growth as a human being.
Engaging in this process begins when you come in full contact with yourself and learn to ride the waves of grief. Your thoughts, your feelings, your identity after loss all become vehicles for your own evolution."
I don't know whether I am grieving mindfully or not - but I know for sure I am grieving. I woke up early again thinking I was supposed to take care of Chuck and then remembering it is only me in the bed now.
As always, I write this as a record of my life. I sit at the computer drinking coffee from the mug Reagan gave me for Christmas that says HOPE and thank God for all of it - the love, the friends, the words that are given to me, and most of all the time with Chuck.
Here is a wonderful poem Gail sent me yesterday.
AFTER READING ABOUT THE DEATH
It is the work of the living
to grieve the dead. It is our work
to wonder how else the story
could have gone. It is our work
to weep and worry, and it is
our work to heal. The clouds
hide the moon, hide the sun, sometimes
for days. We don’t believe
it will be forever. Some part of us
knows not only hope, but patience.
It is the work of the living
to love even deeper
in the face of death, to know ourselves
as flowers on the pathway,
easily crushed. The world crushes.
Some stems spring back,
some never rise again.
We know we must be resilient,
but resilience has wings
and sometimes flies away.
It is the work of the living
to, against all odds, grow wings.
It is our work to live—
and work it sometimes is.
It is our work to show up again
and again and again, genies
who refuse to go back in the bottle,
lovers who ever insist on love,
stems that feel sunlight and,
though we can’t yet move,
let it encourage our being.
to grieve the dead. It is our work
to wonder how else the story
could have gone. It is our work
to weep and worry, and it is
our work to heal. The clouds
hide the moon, hide the sun, sometimes
for days. We don’t believe
it will be forever. Some part of us
knows not only hope, but patience.
It is the work of the living
to love even deeper
in the face of death, to know ourselves
as flowers on the pathway,
easily crushed. The world crushes.
Some stems spring back,
some never rise again.
We know we must be resilient,
but resilience has wings
and sometimes flies away.
It is the work of the living
to, against all odds, grow wings.
It is our work to live—
and work it sometimes is.
It is our work to show up again
and again and again, genies
who refuse to go back in the bottle,
lovers who ever insist on love,
stems that feel sunlight and,
though we can’t yet move,
let it encourage our being.
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Life goes on
I guess. As we grieve and try to take the next steps.
Today was a back to normal day as I start to make the transition to life without Chuck. There are things I cannot do yet - like the walker remains in the living room as a mute testimony to his last days with us. But I started to clean out the closet and the drawers in the bedroom. It gives me peace to fold his T shirts in a pile and his sweaters in a box. I collect suspenders with the idea of giving them away to the males of the family before the service. I am up to 12 sets. I find 5 binoculars in the closet and candy and an ugly dog toy. I am doing something.
Later I have lunch with Seth (always called "Steth" by Chuck) and share my stories of Chuck and listen to the latest drama in his life. It is good to be distracted. . And then the trip to the funeral home.
Kacey and Alyse meet me there and we make decisions together. We are doing everything at the church and there will be no plot for his ashes. He never wanted one and there is something about putting him in the ground that is so limiting. I have a vague idea of several trips to take ashes to various bodies of water - Lake Erie, Lake Nippising in Canada and the Atlantic Ocean. There was an option to buy some jewelry and place his ashes in it to wear which we all rejected. Later Alyse told her Mom she might like a necklace to put on the wall. Who knew?
We decided to purchase programs and a video and a candle. We selected a poem to put in the program that was about a clock. Later Alyse walked around the house and counted 26 clocks! We now have to come up with 40 pictures for the video and write an obituary and find a picture for the program. We have lots of time - a week to do so and I feel like I can breathe. As always grateful for having someone with me who can hear and guide and make jokes along the way.
Then Kacey and Alyse came home with me and we played games. Marnie showed up with a ham, Audrey woke up and all was good. Friends are calling to check in and chat. I am good for about 10 minutes.
Finally they leave, Audrey goes to work and I know I am tired to the bone. I go to sleep at 10 and the dog wakes me at 3:30. Back to sleep and then a dream about Chuck. I am in the living room and I hear Audrey yelling at him in the family room (yelling to be heard - ) and then I come to the doorway of the kitchen and hold him. He is there and I am happy. Suddenly he turns into a 12 year boy with dark hair. I know it is him and I also know that he will not remain. Then there is a movement and I am holding a baby that is him. And then I wake up.
So, I sit here in wonder and confusion at this strange dream. I see Loretta, my spiritual director, on Friday and may speak to her about that. Or just savor it and wonder.
No we are three days past his death and a new day is here. I know this much will happen today: I will go to the funeral home and identify his body at 9 AM. The final look at him on earth. I could have given them a picture, but I want to do it. Maybe Audrey will be with me.
The rest of the day will bring lunch with jiom and Holly and dinner with Sherie and her dad John, one of Chuck's best friends. There will be tears for sure.
Life goes on. I face it, I cry, I make plans. I live.
Today was a back to normal day as I start to make the transition to life without Chuck. There are things I cannot do yet - like the walker remains in the living room as a mute testimony to his last days with us. But I started to clean out the closet and the drawers in the bedroom. It gives me peace to fold his T shirts in a pile and his sweaters in a box. I collect suspenders with the idea of giving them away to the males of the family before the service. I am up to 12 sets. I find 5 binoculars in the closet and candy and an ugly dog toy. I am doing something.
Later I have lunch with Seth (always called "Steth" by Chuck) and share my stories of Chuck and listen to the latest drama in his life. It is good to be distracted. . And then the trip to the funeral home.
Kacey and Alyse meet me there and we make decisions together. We are doing everything at the church and there will be no plot for his ashes. He never wanted one and there is something about putting him in the ground that is so limiting. I have a vague idea of several trips to take ashes to various bodies of water - Lake Erie, Lake Nippising in Canada and the Atlantic Ocean. There was an option to buy some jewelry and place his ashes in it to wear which we all rejected. Later Alyse told her Mom she might like a necklace to put on the wall. Who knew?
We decided to purchase programs and a video and a candle. We selected a poem to put in the program that was about a clock. Later Alyse walked around the house and counted 26 clocks! We now have to come up with 40 pictures for the video and write an obituary and find a picture for the program. We have lots of time - a week to do so and I feel like I can breathe. As always grateful for having someone with me who can hear and guide and make jokes along the way.
Then Kacey and Alyse came home with me and we played games. Marnie showed up with a ham, Audrey woke up and all was good. Friends are calling to check in and chat. I am good for about 10 minutes.
Finally they leave, Audrey goes to work and I know I am tired to the bone. I go to sleep at 10 and the dog wakes me at 3:30. Back to sleep and then a dream about Chuck. I am in the living room and I hear Audrey yelling at him in the family room (yelling to be heard - ) and then I come to the doorway of the kitchen and hold him. He is there and I am happy. Suddenly he turns into a 12 year boy with dark hair. I know it is him and I also know that he will not remain. Then there is a movement and I am holding a baby that is him. And then I wake up.
So, I sit here in wonder and confusion at this strange dream. I see Loretta, my spiritual director, on Friday and may speak to her about that. Or just savor it and wonder.
No we are three days past his death and a new day is here. I know this much will happen today: I will go to the funeral home and identify his body at 9 AM. The final look at him on earth. I could have given them a picture, but I want to do it. Maybe Audrey will be with me.
The rest of the day will bring lunch with jiom and Holly and dinner with Sherie and her dad John, one of Chuck's best friends. There will be tears for sure.
Life goes on. I face it, I cry, I make plans. I live.
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
He is gone
And I am bereft. Feeling a sadness that is deep and abiding. Always present. The tears are constant.
I want to put into words the events of his death so that I have a record. It was - like everything else on this journey - grace filled. Remarkable. And all happening both so fast and so slowly at the same time.
Last Monday, December 17th Jim and Holly and Josh stopped by and brought soup. Chuck was with us - sort of. Eating a little. But present and then went to bed because he was tired. As they left someone used the bath room and afterward Chuck told me to tell anyone who uses the bathroom to stop by his bedroom and say hello. It was so Chuck.
Three hours later, after we were trying to sleep, he sat up in bed and tried to stand and fell. We had a heck of a time and eventually I got him on his feet and then we both fell and I could not get him up. I called Marnie and Erik who came to help and it was clear we needed an ambulance to take him - for the third time - to the emergency room. He never came home after that.
We had five days in the hospital with excellent care. I met with a slew of doctors, nurse practitioners, social workers. My brother Wayne and Gail came from New Hampshire and he sat in on every meeting and took notes. It was clear to me that Chuck was not going to get better - he was declining daily as he was not eating. His restlessness and dementia were unsettling and hard to watch. There were flashes of his humor and love in the midst of a lot of confusion. My family was with me daily as we waited to discern what the next steps were going to be.
After a meeting with the palliative care team, it was decided that I would take him to a care center in Dublin where he would receive therapy and then we would see if he would be accepted into hospice care. We went to Heartland of Dublin and I immediately hated it. I hated having a roommate and the sham of therapy. I wanted him to be comfortable. I was told on Saturday that we could not see hospice or a social worker until Monday. Somehow on Sunday, however, a nurse told me that she could get hospice to work with us that day. And she did. At 5 PM I signed papers and at 9 PM Sunday night the nurse finally arrived and he received the medication that would give his body some peace. Before that everyone in the family came to see him one more time because we knew that he was no longer going to be able to communicate with him.
Sunday night began then, the waiting time of sitting with Chuck and wondering when he was going to leave us. I am blessed with good friends who sat with him Sunday and Monday afternoon so that I could have a little rest, shop and actually have a "family Christmas" during this time. Monday evening I sat with him. Mercifully, his roommate had gone home so that we were alone in the room. Audrey was with me and Melanie and her daughter Erin. So we sat for hours - mothers and daughters who have had a long friendship and who all love Chuck. We sat and talked and ate snacks and waited. Sometimes I held his hand, or stroked his face and told him I loved him and he could let go.
At around 10 PM I wondered aloud if we would stay all night or leave. He seemed to be "going strong." It was a half hour later that his breathing changed. Erin saw it first. Audrey went over to him and spoke in his ear her love for him. And then I told him again that I loved him, that he could go and be with his parents and his son Matt and we would take care of his family and that it was "all good." And with that.....he was gone. I touched him arm and did not believe it, did not want to believe it. But Audrey was sure and the nurse came and confirmed . He was gone.
There is all that we say - he is at peace, in a better place. Yes. But he is gone from me. and I am bereft.
I want to put into words the events of his death so that I have a record. It was - like everything else on this journey - grace filled. Remarkable. And all happening both so fast and so slowly at the same time.
Last Monday, December 17th Jim and Holly and Josh stopped by and brought soup. Chuck was with us - sort of. Eating a little. But present and then went to bed because he was tired. As they left someone used the bath room and afterward Chuck told me to tell anyone who uses the bathroom to stop by his bedroom and say hello. It was so Chuck.
Three hours later, after we were trying to sleep, he sat up in bed and tried to stand and fell. We had a heck of a time and eventually I got him on his feet and then we both fell and I could not get him up. I called Marnie and Erik who came to help and it was clear we needed an ambulance to take him - for the third time - to the emergency room. He never came home after that.
We had five days in the hospital with excellent care. I met with a slew of doctors, nurse practitioners, social workers. My brother Wayne and Gail came from New Hampshire and he sat in on every meeting and took notes. It was clear to me that Chuck was not going to get better - he was declining daily as he was not eating. His restlessness and dementia were unsettling and hard to watch. There were flashes of his humor and love in the midst of a lot of confusion. My family was with me daily as we waited to discern what the next steps were going to be.
After a meeting with the palliative care team, it was decided that I would take him to a care center in Dublin where he would receive therapy and then we would see if he would be accepted into hospice care. We went to Heartland of Dublin and I immediately hated it. I hated having a roommate and the sham of therapy. I wanted him to be comfortable. I was told on Saturday that we could not see hospice or a social worker until Monday. Somehow on Sunday, however, a nurse told me that she could get hospice to work with us that day. And she did. At 5 PM I signed papers and at 9 PM Sunday night the nurse finally arrived and he received the medication that would give his body some peace. Before that everyone in the family came to see him one more time because we knew that he was no longer going to be able to communicate with him.
Sunday night began then, the waiting time of sitting with Chuck and wondering when he was going to leave us. I am blessed with good friends who sat with him Sunday and Monday afternoon so that I could have a little rest, shop and actually have a "family Christmas" during this time. Monday evening I sat with him. Mercifully, his roommate had gone home so that we were alone in the room. Audrey was with me and Melanie and her daughter Erin. So we sat for hours - mothers and daughters who have had a long friendship and who all love Chuck. We sat and talked and ate snacks and waited. Sometimes I held his hand, or stroked his face and told him I loved him and he could let go.
At around 10 PM I wondered aloud if we would stay all night or leave. He seemed to be "going strong." It was a half hour later that his breathing changed. Erin saw it first. Audrey went over to him and spoke in his ear her love for him. And then I told him again that I loved him, that he could go and be with his parents and his son Matt and we would take care of his family and that it was "all good." And with that.....he was gone. I touched him arm and did not believe it, did not want to believe it. But Audrey was sure and the nurse came and confirmed . He was gone.
There is all that we say - he is at peace, in a better place. Yes. But he is gone from me. and I am bereft.
Friday, December 21, 2018
Light in the darkness
This is a quick post because I have to get to the hospital. Audrey is there, however, with Chuck and will meet with whatever doctors come through the door in my absence.
I just want to write a word about the darkness - which is the steady decline of Chuck. He no longer can live in my home and is currently in the hospital. Soon - maybe today - he will go to Heartland of Westerville care center. At the beginning my insurance will pay but soon it will be up to me. The darkness is wondering what that is all going to look like.
And the light
friends who continue to call, text, send cards, visit and remind me that I am not along
daughters who are with me and Chuck daily comforting, loving, and guiding us all
My brother Wayne and his wife Gail who came to spend two days with us and have really felt like a wise and steadying and compassionate presence
And of course, the constant presence of God - the glimpses of love and light in this season. I cannot ever explain what that "feels like" but it is real.
I am sharing this blessing of Maxine Shonk which I need today.
May you be blessed by the God of PEACE who stills the heart that quakes with fear or doubt or confusion.
May you discover your peace in the "Godseed" of your own being and in the flowering of your inner goodness.
May the warmth of your peace bring calm to those who tremble in fear and uncertainty.
May the blessing of PEACE be on you.
I just want to write a word about the darkness - which is the steady decline of Chuck. He no longer can live in my home and is currently in the hospital. Soon - maybe today - he will go to Heartland of Westerville care center. At the beginning my insurance will pay but soon it will be up to me. The darkness is wondering what that is all going to look like.
And the light
friends who continue to call, text, send cards, visit and remind me that I am not along
daughters who are with me and Chuck daily comforting, loving, and guiding us all
My brother Wayne and his wife Gail who came to spend two days with us and have really felt like a wise and steadying and compassionate presence
And of course, the constant presence of God - the glimpses of love and light in this season. I cannot ever explain what that "feels like" but it is real.
I am sharing this blessing of Maxine Shonk which I need today.
May you be blessed by the God of PEACE who stills the heart that quakes with fear or doubt or confusion.
May you discover your peace in the "Godseed" of your own being and in the flowering of your inner goodness.
May the warmth of your peace bring calm to those who tremble in fear and uncertainty.
May the blessing of PEACE be on you.
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Alas
I glanced through the scripture for today and the first word was alas and I stopped there. That was enough. Alas
I looked up the definition in the merriam webster and this is what was written:
"used to express unhappiness, pity, or concern. Life, alas, is too short"
For me the word would be used like this:
Chuck, alas, is getting worse in his recovery from major surgery. And it is hard to watch and hard to help. It is sad and it is scary.
Since I last wrote, he has fallen twice - Sunday night and early Tuesday morning. Both falls necessitated trips to the ER and he spent Tuesday night in observation at the hospital.
He can't eat or won't eat. He has trouble swallowing. The problem may be over medication and/or dementia. I am supposed to puree his food except for when he comes home from the hospital and asks for and eats crackers and potato chips.
Last night he was up every hour. I gave up sleeping and got up at 5:30 and as I write this he has already been up two more times. I put him back to bed and tell him to get some sleep. We have a big day with a nurse, physical therapist and occupational therapist coming.
Having Chuck in this condition is somewhat like being with a baby except the baby will stay in the crib. What is clear is that the medications that he has been taking have got to be reworked. I trust that eventually we will figure it all out. Meanwhile I hope and pray for strength and wisdom and compassion as I am the caretaker during this difficult time.
Chuck, alas, is getting worse in his recovery from major surgery. And we pray for a miracle - that the meds will be managed, that his appetite will come back, that he will get strength in his limbs and that he will come back to me.
May it be so.
.
I looked up the definition in the merriam webster and this is what was written:
"used to express unhappiness, pity, or concern. Life, alas, is too short"
For me the word would be used like this:
Chuck, alas, is getting worse in his recovery from major surgery. And it is hard to watch and hard to help. It is sad and it is scary.
Since I last wrote, he has fallen twice - Sunday night and early Tuesday morning. Both falls necessitated trips to the ER and he spent Tuesday night in observation at the hospital.
He can't eat or won't eat. He has trouble swallowing. The problem may be over medication and/or dementia. I am supposed to puree his food except for when he comes home from the hospital and asks for and eats crackers and potato chips.
Last night he was up every hour. I gave up sleeping and got up at 5:30 and as I write this he has already been up two more times. I put him back to bed and tell him to get some sleep. We have a big day with a nurse, physical therapist and occupational therapist coming.
Having Chuck in this condition is somewhat like being with a baby except the baby will stay in the crib. What is clear is that the medications that he has been taking have got to be reworked. I trust that eventually we will figure it all out. Meanwhile I hope and pray for strength and wisdom and compassion as I am the caretaker during this difficult time.
Chuck, alas, is getting worse in his recovery from major surgery. And we pray for a miracle - that the meds will be managed, that his appetite will come back, that he will get strength in his limbs and that he will come back to me.
May it be so.
.
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
A storey by Anthony DeMello
It is called RIVER WATER FOR SALE (from The Song of the Bird)
The master's sermon that day consisted
of one enigmatic sentence.
With a wry smile he said, "All
I do is sit by the bank of the river,
selling river water."
I was so busy buying the water that I failed to see the river.
**************
For some reason this story came to mind to me this evening. I started this long day preaching at Oakleaf retirement center filling in for the pastor whose wife just had knee surgery. I said I was willing to do this not realizing that Chuck would have a doctor's appointment that afternoon. But I went with the original plan to "zip over" for 45 minutes and leave Chuck at home.
That was my plan. When the time came to leave I was a little anxious. I had gotten him up and dressed early and had some oatmeal in front of him and he was sitting - kind of in a stupor. What was I going to do? And then the doorbell rang and there stood two friends - John M and John L who came to visit. Not knowing I was going to ask them to stay and keep him company when I went to preach. And they did. Two angels.
I preached an Advent sermon about Zechariah and Elizabeth and tried to put into words this life of trusting in God. What I knew was that I preached a sermon that I needed to hear - about the one whose love and spirit flows through this world. And I can trust it. This God who surprises me with men who unexpectedly show up exactly when I need help.
Our visit to the doctor was exhausting - just getting him in and out of the car and then in and out of the office is enough!. He has lost ten pounds and has no appetite. He is getting weaker and not stronger even though he is doing physical therapy. So, there were blood tests and answers may come later.
I am getting ready to spend tomorrow in Toledo tomorrow when Chuck's daughter is having similar surgery to his. And am blessed with friends and family who will be taking shifts caring for him in my absence. None of this is easy - but we are not alone. And there is hope. Let's call it light in the darkness.
The master's sermon that day consisted
of one enigmatic sentence.
With a wry smile he said, "All
I do is sit by the bank of the river,
selling river water."
I was so busy buying the water that I failed to see the river.
**************
For some reason this story came to mind to me this evening. I started this long day preaching at Oakleaf retirement center filling in for the pastor whose wife just had knee surgery. I said I was willing to do this not realizing that Chuck would have a doctor's appointment that afternoon. But I went with the original plan to "zip over" for 45 minutes and leave Chuck at home.
That was my plan. When the time came to leave I was a little anxious. I had gotten him up and dressed early and had some oatmeal in front of him and he was sitting - kind of in a stupor. What was I going to do? And then the doorbell rang and there stood two friends - John M and John L who came to visit. Not knowing I was going to ask them to stay and keep him company when I went to preach. And they did. Two angels.
I preached an Advent sermon about Zechariah and Elizabeth and tried to put into words this life of trusting in God. What I knew was that I preached a sermon that I needed to hear - about the one whose love and spirit flows through this world. And I can trust it. This God who surprises me with men who unexpectedly show up exactly when I need help.
Our visit to the doctor was exhausting - just getting him in and out of the car and then in and out of the office is enough!. He has lost ten pounds and has no appetite. He is getting weaker and not stronger even though he is doing physical therapy. So, there were blood tests and answers may come later.
I am getting ready to spend tomorrow in Toledo tomorrow when Chuck's daughter is having similar surgery to his. And am blessed with friends and family who will be taking shifts caring for him in my absence. None of this is easy - but we are not alone. And there is hope. Let's call it light in the darkness.
John 1:1-5 The Message (MSG)
The Life-Light
1 1-2 The Word was first,
the Word present to God,
God present to the Word.
The Word was God,
in readiness for God from day one.
the Word present to God,
God present to the Word.
The Word was God,
in readiness for God from day one.
3-5 Everything was created through him;
nothing—not one thing!—
came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
the darkness couldn’t put it out.
nothing—not one thing!—
came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
the darkness couldn’t put it out.
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
Teach us to live well
That is one of the lines that spoke to me this morning as I read through the daily readings. It is from Psalm 90. Here is is in context
And there is more to savor here: surprise us with love at daybreak
make up for the bad times with some good times
let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us confirming the work that we do
That is what I need to hear today. The news is full of the stories about George H. W. Bush and like every death, it is an opportunity to reflect on one man's life. I read his biography by Jon Meachem and came away from it admiring him. He was a man of great humility and great ambition. It is an interesting mix but he shows what that looks like. I respect him for his discipline, his fortitude, and his graciousness. Politically I disagreed at times and he definitely made mistakes - don't we all - but overall, there was so much about his life that I hold in high regard.
He and Barbara really did have a very good marriage. I learned about their early life in Texas which was anything but patrician and their surviving the death of their daughter Robin. I also learned about the time that Barbara went into a deep depression and his understanding and dedication to her through that time. He was a good leader, a good family man and a good person. He lived well.
Like the funeral of John McCain, we have an opportunity for reflection on a person's particular life choices and it is good to have someone to look up to and admire. Especially these days. I heard someone say that Trump's excesses have been excused by many who think "they're all a bunch of crooks, anyway." So the lifting up of people can remind us that there are other choices than lying, holding grudges, creating dissension and self aggrandizement.
What I have discovered during this challenging time with Chuck is that my salvation is really found in looking past my own problems and recognizing that we are each on our own journeys of bad times and good times. I am grateful for emails with my sister in law who is in a similar situation - I am not alone in this by a long shot. Spiritual Direction and just the conversation of friendships keep me grounded and open to hear and hold their stories and learn and enjoy God's activity in each of our lives. I confess, I can really get tunnel vision as I stay locked in this house in this waiting space.
And so I start the day with two thoughts from the text
1. Teach me to live well - help me to choose kindness, patience, grace and humor
2. surprise me with love at daybreak
I don't know what that will look like today - but I take it as a promise that love is all around me. May I see it, feel it, savor it.
Here is a blessing by Maxine Shonk that reminds me of the life of George Bush and the blessing needed for all of us as we are in a season of caregiving.
Oh! Teach us to live well!
Teach us to live wisely and well!
Come back, God—how long do we have to wait?—
and treat your servants with kindness for a change.
Surprise us with love at daybreak;
then we’ll skip and dance all the day long.
Make up for the bad times with some good times;
we’ve seen enough evil to last a lifetime.
Let your servants see what you’re best at—
the ways you rule and bless your children.
And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us,
confirming the work that we do.
Oh, yes. Affirm the work that we do!
And there is more to savor here: surprise us with love at daybreak
make up for the bad times with some good times
let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us confirming the work that we do
That is what I need to hear today. The news is full of the stories about George H. W. Bush and like every death, it is an opportunity to reflect on one man's life. I read his biography by Jon Meachem and came away from it admiring him. He was a man of great humility and great ambition. It is an interesting mix but he shows what that looks like. I respect him for his discipline, his fortitude, and his graciousness. Politically I disagreed at times and he definitely made mistakes - don't we all - but overall, there was so much about his life that I hold in high regard.
He and Barbara really did have a very good marriage. I learned about their early life in Texas which was anything but patrician and their surviving the death of their daughter Robin. I also learned about the time that Barbara went into a deep depression and his understanding and dedication to her through that time. He was a good leader, a good family man and a good person. He lived well.
Like the funeral of John McCain, we have an opportunity for reflection on a person's particular life choices and it is good to have someone to look up to and admire. Especially these days. I heard someone say that Trump's excesses have been excused by many who think "they're all a bunch of crooks, anyway." So the lifting up of people can remind us that there are other choices than lying, holding grudges, creating dissension and self aggrandizement.
What I have discovered during this challenging time with Chuck is that my salvation is really found in looking past my own problems and recognizing that we are each on our own journeys of bad times and good times. I am grateful for emails with my sister in law who is in a similar situation - I am not alone in this by a long shot. Spiritual Direction and just the conversation of friendships keep me grounded and open to hear and hold their stories and learn and enjoy God's activity in each of our lives. I confess, I can really get tunnel vision as I stay locked in this house in this waiting space.
And so I start the day with two thoughts from the text
1. Teach me to live well - help me to choose kindness, patience, grace and humor
2. surprise me with love at daybreak
I don't know what that will look like today - but I take it as a promise that love is all around me. May I see it, feel it, savor it.
Here is a blessing by Maxine Shonk that reminds me of the life of George Bush and the blessing needed for all of us as we are in a season of caregiving.
May the God of SERVICE be with you,
May God minister to you in your vulnerability.
May you know God's giving presence in your powerlessness and in our humanity.
May you serve the needs of all those whose path of struggle and need crosses your own.
And may they know the healing touch of God through your service and presence.
May the God of SERVICE be with you.
Monday, December 3, 2018
I'm working on it
Patience and Peace.
I started this day at 5 AM worrying and wondering. In that order. Worrying about Chuck and his physical and mental healing. and wondering when it was going to get better. And how will I manage if it does not?
And then I looked at the daily lectionary and was confronted with the words of 2 Peter.
Writing this blog is for me a way to examine what is happening within me, within us as we face the challenge of aging and illness. I share this prayer by Maxine Shonk which speaks God keeping vigil with us in the "sacrament of waiting." That understanding can remind me that these days can be holy.
May the God of PATIENCE be with you,
standing with you when you are anxious and hurried,
bringing new depth to your life and renewed vision of God.
May you not be afraid of the questions that press in upon you.
May you live those questions with an open trust and
may God keep vigil with you as you enter the sarament of waiting.
May the blessing of PATIENCE. be with you.
I started this day at 5 AM worrying and wondering. In that order. Worrying about Chuck and his physical and mental healing. and wondering when it was going to get better. And how will I manage if it does not?
And then I looked at the daily lectionary and was confronted with the words of 2 Peter.
8But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord
one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day.
9The Lord is not slow
about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to
repentance.
10But the
day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away
with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth
and everything that is done on it will be disclosed.
11Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what
sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, 12waiting
for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens
will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire?
13But, in
accordance with his promise, we wait
for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home.
14Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace,
without spot or blemish; 15and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation.
You can see the words that jumped out at me - slow, patient, waiting, patience. Now, waiting for the day of the Lord is not quite the same as waiting for your husband to heal from surgery. But waiting is waiting and I guess the question is always what to do while you are waiting.
One of the issues with Chuck's recovery is that he is moving and doing everything slower than ever. I put a meal in front of him and it takes forever for him to eat it. It is not - as it used to be - because he is talking all the time or distracted doing other things during the meal. It is just that every bite is taken in slowly, chewed slowly and swallowed slowly. Sometimes he stops altogether and I have to remind him to keep eating. I am learning to find other things to do at the table as he eats - like reading and doing puzzles. Then I can be present and patience and wait with him.
What I know is that this journey of caretaking is universal and Chuck and I have been really blessed in that neither of us have had significant health issues up to now. I did not live in close proximity to my parents during their last years and have not really had to contend with daily care giving like this. So I recognize it as a blessing and a burden and an inevitable part of the cycle of life and loving another person through their life.
You can see the words that jumped out at me - slow, patient, waiting, patience. Now, waiting for the day of the Lord is not quite the same as waiting for your husband to heal from surgery. But waiting is waiting and I guess the question is always what to do while you are waiting.
One of the issues with Chuck's recovery is that he is moving and doing everything slower than ever. I put a meal in front of him and it takes forever for him to eat it. It is not - as it used to be - because he is talking all the time or distracted doing other things during the meal. It is just that every bite is taken in slowly, chewed slowly and swallowed slowly. Sometimes he stops altogether and I have to remind him to keep eating. I am learning to find other things to do at the table as he eats - like reading and doing puzzles. Then I can be present and patience and wait with him.
What I know is that this journey of caretaking is universal and Chuck and I have been really blessed in that neither of us have had significant health issues up to now. I did not live in close proximity to my parents during their last years and have not really had to contend with daily care giving like this. So I recognize it as a blessing and a burden and an inevitable part of the cycle of life and loving another person through their life.
Writing this blog is for me a way to examine what is happening within me, within us as we face the challenge of aging and illness. I share this prayer by Maxine Shonk which speaks God keeping vigil with us in the "sacrament of waiting." That understanding can remind me that these days can be holy.
May the God of PATIENCE be with you,
standing with you when you are anxious and hurried,
bringing new depth to your life and renewed vision of God.
May you not be afraid of the questions that press in upon you.
May you live those questions with an open trust and
may God keep vigil with you as you enter the sarament of waiting.
May the blessing of PATIENCE. be with you.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
A More expansive view
I decided that this Advent I am going to try to start the day with God's word. Not reflection on my life and not the newspaper - but the lectionary texts that are given to us daily. And see what speaks to me.
There are four texts today but I stopped at the first: Jeremiah
There are four texts today but I stopped at the first: Jeremiah
Jeremiah
33:14-16
14The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I
made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.
In those days and at that time I will cause a
righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and
righteousness in the land.
In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem
will live in safety.
And this is the name by which it will be called:
“The Lord is our righteousness.”
Then I spent some time on textweek looking up some of the commentaries on this. What I learned is that Jeremiah was written to Israel when it was a time of chaos and fear. There were two great enemies: Assyria to the north and Egypt to the west. And one can only imagine the thoughts of the leaders: what is going to happen to us? How do we protect ourselves?
Here is a quote from one of the commentaries:
"Present reality caused the Hebrew kings to lose long term vision and give way to frantic tunnel vision." And he said that Jeremiah, the prophet was proclaiming both warning and assurance.
The phrase that has touched me is "frantic tunnel vision" which happens during times of fear and anxiety. Is that what happened in America after September 11, after the financial meltdown in 2008, after the Trump election? I wonder. I feel it with Chuck's post op condition. The definition of tunnel vision is "defective sight in which objects cannot be properly seen if not close to the center of the field of view." In my anxiety I only see me and Chuck and wonder how we are going to manage if he doesn't get better.
And what is the opposite of that? It is peaceful expansive vision - seeing greater possibilities for life and a future and God's presence and invitation in this time.
When my vision expands I am able to see the blessing of a new intimacy and closeness between us and a deepening of our love. As a pastor, I used to marvel at the patience and devotion of parishioners with parents or spouses who were in decline - both physically and mentally. Now I get it. Chuck's humor and generous spirit surface and I am heartened.
When my vision expands I remember not just God's presence, but the "way" of God - living in the present moment, trusting the future to God. It is in seeking to be patient, forgiving, loving and full of grace.
When my vision expands I move into an understanding that this new life of caregiving (however long it is going to last) can be as good as the old life centered on me and my pursuits.
And so I leave this post to wake him up and give him meds and breakfast and start the day together. Trusting that God is present and not only healing him but fillling me with spirit, love, peace and joy.
May it be so.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
