Hips, Ibuprofen, and Ducks

If you are interested or even if you are not, thought I would tell you my long, sad story. I had a bad fall a few years ago and broke my hip and my shoulder. I always had one leg shorter than the other one and so when I was put back together, one leg is definitely shorter than the other one by another quarter inch or so. So, to make a long story short from the beginning, my good hip started hurting me so I decided to raise that hip up a little bit to sort of match the other one. I put an extra gel sole in that shoe. I walked on that for about a day and a half. Then my knee starting hurting pretty bad. So I took the gel piece out of my shoe and thought that would make my knee stop hurting. Instead, it just kept right on hurting all the time and it was really, really painful. Now, I could not walk right at all. So I was limping around and that made my bad hip start hurting. The good one didn’t hurt anymore.

I limped so much that my foot started hurting and over time it swelled up pretty good. This made my heel where I had broken it several years before, start hurting as though it was broken again. Although I knew it was not. And my foot was drawn up in pain because I could not relax it enough to walk right. I could actually feel my toes retract when I tried to walk. Then, in order to be able to live my normal life since I was in such pain in all directions by now, I had to take a couple of ibuprofen just to get through each day. And even at this amount, I was still in a lot of pain. After taking the ibuprofen a couple of days, it began to have an effect on my stomach which it always does. So here I was, with my knee just ruining my life and my foot hurting all the time and my stomach upset from the ibuprofen, and my other hip hurting sometimes. Oh yeah, by now, the ibuprofen was causing me to have a diarrhea, too. I would have cried but there was no one around to hear me, so why bother. No point in crying if there is no one to hear you and feel sorry for you. So I gave that one up.

But I sure did feel like it most of the time. It was an effort to just get up out of a chair and walk across the room. Of course I could have gone to the doctor, but there was not much he could have done for me except give me more medication and I didn’t feel that I needed that just yet. Not until I was to the screaming stage. Almost there now.

And then I was sitting in a chair the other evening, looking down at my foot that was hurting so much. I was trying to see if it was swelled as much today as yesterday.  Then the thought crossed my mind that maybe, just possibly, my shoe was too small. So I immediately changed shoes and put on a pair that I had in the closet that was 1/2 size larger.

Now, I’m still hurting some, but it is not nearly as bad as it was. And I note that my toe is at the end of this shoe, so maybe I even need a 1/2 size larger than that one. I will have to go to the store one day soon and have my foot measured so I can see if I have grown longer feet.

And besides that, I am at the age where I shrink occasionally. That is, I get shorter over the years. So wouldn’t that be something if I am shrinking from the top and growing longer from the bottom. If so, I will soon look like a duck I guess. Hope I don’t have to waddle like one.

Signs of Change

Pay attention to what all God is doing in this world.  Remember when those liberals were chanting about population explosion? Well, they convinced all kinds of people to kill their unborn children. And so now, God has turned that around and most of the people in this country are against abortions. And the total is climbing every day. Those liberals are still spinning around and insisting that they know best, but they don’t.

And then there were those who hollered loud and clear about how global warming is going to kill us all.  Why the Arctic is going to turn in a big sloshy mess any day now. And instead, Antarctica is now experiencing the coldest weather that has ever happened there. Isn’t that interesting though? Remember it’s God’s world. He is going to take care of it just fine.

And now we are inundated with rain, rain, and more rain. I  believe I have been hearing for years how the farmers are most concerned because the water table has fallen so low all over the country. So guess what! God is now taking care of that one. The drought in Texas has been very serious for several years. It has already been taken care of with the recent rains. The farmers won’t have to worry about the water table for quite some time. In our state, we have had more rain this year than has fallen since the late 1800’s. Isn’t that amazing though.

And how about those snows out west. Could it be that the weather is being straightened out there too? And in the process, it will also help their economy as they depend on that snowfall each year. Again, isn’t that amazing. God seems to know what everyone needs and provides just fine. Without a bit of help from those liberals either. They can just keep right on spinning around and whining about all these terrible things that are going to  happen to us. And it’s not going to happen anyway. God will take care of everything in His own time.

And what those liberals do not understand, at least not yet, is that they are through, through, through. Permanently. We won’t have to listen to their extreme rhetoric anymore. I can hardly wait until the media finally tunes them out. They are a past that we don’t need to repeat. Just watch and see how God takes care of everything. Including all their agenda. Pay attention to what God is doing in this world. And then say your prayers of Thanksgiving for all blessings received.

C’mon, open your heart and…

Do you remember when – it was o.k. to just relax and enjoy the day?

I remember when the news was just that – news of the day. It was not necessary for three or four people to give their opinions on every issue. We just watched the news in the evening and then made our own comments.

I remember when my children played all around the neighborhood. They could play in and out of houses for a two block area and no one even considered that they might be in any danger whatsoever. How nice that was for us and for them. They played army for days and days. They pretended to make movies of everyone in the neighborhood. They wrote a newspaper and played cowboys and indians and cops and robbers and no one found fault with their behavior. The girls played dressup and Mother May I. And House.

It was really fun to just sit outside and watch the sun set or maybe sit on the carport and watch the rain. Drink a slow cup of coffee and listen to the sounds of the neighborhood. A neighbor might drop by and join in with a cup of coffee, too. Or another time, after we had done our washing and ironing and cleaning and mopping and cooking for the day, we Mothers might visit with each other over a cup of coffee and a cookie. And maybe watch our kids playing in the sandbox or jumping rope or riding their bikes.

I remember when Dad went off to work and earned a good living. And Mom stayed home and cared for everyone and all their needs. It was a satisfying and full life for all concerned. Dad was not expected to care for the children – that was Mom’s job. Mom was not expected to earn the living – that was Dad’s job.

We used to read a magazine or a book in the evening. We used to just sit and talk the evening away. We enjoyed one another. We were a family. Sometimes, we had a card table set up with a jigsaw puzzle on it. Some one would sort the pieces, turning them right side up. We might stop for a minute and help put the border pieces on. Everyone in the family would help put the puzzle together. It might take a week or more, depending upon how much time we had. Or we might be busy playing cards together. That was when I learned how to play ‘Sol’. And Concentration. And Hearts. Lots of fun. Many a night spent together.

If it was a good night for television, we might watch the sitcoms together. But they were clean and pleasant and full of laughs for us all. That was before the sitcoms began to have a message for us all. You know, like Dad is stupid and Mom is dumb. Or Dad always wears a suit at home and never actually goes out to work. And Mom has on her high heels and perfectly coiffed hair. And she never has anything to do at all. But we all knew this was  just pretending anyway. So we could laugh at the jokes and enjoy the evening – together.  That was the point. We were together. We spent our time as a family. And we all enjoyed every minute of it.

That was a nice time. Such a nice time for everyone. I remember when.

Take a look at some of my books. You will enjoy them. They are full of some of those ‘remember when times’ together. Thanks.

Sneak Peak of New Book

And now for the preview……

He bent down and carefully placed the almost smashed package of cigarettes under the step. He wanted to make sure no one could see them. Didn’t want Mama to know he smoked. He was all of 18 years old, but he still didn’t want to offend his Mama. She meant the world to him. They had been together, just the two of them for years now. Daddy left when he was 5 years old. When he was 7, he had to quit school and go to work delivering for a drug store so he and Mama could eat. Everyone has to eat you know. She couldn’t work at all now. She had a hard fall and broke her hip and well, you know that old story. Can’t hold down a job now.

He hurried into the house, tired as usual. He had progressed now to a better job than delivering on a bicycle. He was an apprentice and was learning a new trade. He worked long, hard hours and was ready to hit that bed as soon as he got home every evening. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he slipped into his room and hurriedly took off his shoes and socks. Then he checked the soles of his shoes. Always checked to see if they were still holding up o.k. Couldn’t afford new soles just yet. As he slipped off his shirt, he was thinking about that cigarette he was going to have tomorrow morning. Just as soon as he ate breakfast, he would slip out and get one out of the package, light it up and really enjoy it. His friend had only three left when he gave him the worn out package, but that was alright. Better than nothing you know.

As he lay his tired body on the bed, he relished the thought of that cigarette next morning. Would be worth the wait.

He drifted off to sleep in a deep, tired sleep.

And then he heard the rain pattering on the steps out front.

…..This is a small excerpt. Interested? Please visit my site.

Farewell…….

A friend of mine died yesterday. Not really a friend, but I had known her for years. I had watched her grow and develop into a very nice young lady, always doing what she thought was right.

She lived with her parents until her father died and then it was just her and her mother. They did really well for many years. My friend had an IQ that was right on the line, maybe just a little above the line that separates those who are considered normal from those who are considered to have  problems. She tried very hard to always mind her mother and go to church and look nice and clean and be a nice person to everyone. Then her world unraveled over time. Her mother passed away. She lived alone for many years in the only place she knew as home. Her brothers and sisters all passed away over the years. She had no one to really watch out for her. But she managed. She always managed.

Then the house began to fall apart around her. The roof leaked everywhere. But she could still manage. It was difficult to prepare a meal because the stove didn’t work really well anymore. And the refrigerator sometimes didn’t get things very cold. But that was alright. She could manage.

Then the electric lines to her house got blown down during a storm. And she had another leak. In fact, several more leaks.

Since there were no close family members anymore, friends tried to help. But the more they helped, the worse it seemed to be. She could do alright. If everyone would just leave her alone.

Finally, there was talk of her moving. But she just couldn’t do that. This was her home. She had lived here all her life. She just couldn’t leave. No matter what.

Then she hurt her back. And her legs didn’t seem right anymore. And she was having some trouble eating her food. Some things just  wouldn’t go down right.

Friends insisted she go to a doctor to see about her problems. She really didn’t want to go, but she finally had to. Her back just wasn’t getting any better. She couldn’t even walk to church anymore like she had done for so many years.

The doctor put her in the hospital and kept her there until arrangements could be made to move her to a nursing home where she would have proper care. But it just wasn’t home. Oh, if she could just go home. And she cried late at night all by herself because she was so lonely and so lost and she needed someone so bad. But there wasn’t anyone anymore. They were all gone.

And so God called her yesterday and took her home to be with her brothers and sisters and mother and father. And I’m sure when she met God, she asked Him why he had taken so long to come and get her. She had been ready for a long, long time.

Life is hardest of all for those who are almost alright; those who almost make it to normal, but just can’t seem to get there no matter how hard they try.

She was a really great person and I’m so glad I got to know her even a little bit. May God bless her soul abundantly. And I’m sure He already has.

Jars, jars, everywhere and not an end in site!

Old Canners never quit, they just hoard jars. I never knew how to can. I did not grow up in a family where canning was done. In fact, you can read about my mother’s try at canning in my book, In the 1940’s. But I married the son of a canner, so I learned to process with the best of them. And he and family kept me plenty busy all summer long. Every summer. For years. And years. And years.

When our third child was born, my husband took a week off from work to help me with the new baby. We also put up a bushel of green beans and a sack of sweet corn.

My mother-in-law was a great gardener. She could grow anything and usually did. She grew tomatoes like you cannot imagine. Beautiful, plentiful tomatoes. Every year. For years. If she were alive today, we would not have to worry about the world being a greener place. It would be green – or else.

She grew the vegetables and it was up to me to can them for my family. Of course since this was all given to me free, I could never refuse any of it. So I canned and I canned and I canned. Every year. For years.

I was busy raising 6 children, but believe me, I learned to can or else.

My mother-in-law would call and say she had another bushel of tomatoes for me. And I needed to come right now and pick them up. So no matter what else I might have planned that day, I loaded up the kids and drove to pick up the tomatoes. Then I canned some more. I learned to never, ever throw away a canning jar. You just never know when you might need that jar for another round of canning.

And when my husband traveled, he would stop at the roadside stands and buy surprises for me – like a bushel of squash or a box of strawberries. Oh what fun! I always smiled and thanked him. After all, he was doing this for me. Just think of all the fun I was going to have freezing squash and making strawberry jam. I could hardly wait. And I needed to count the jars to make sure I had enough for all that jam. Next it would be blackberries or green beans. What joy. How wonderful to get up in the early morning and face all that. And peaches. Oh Glory. How lucky I am. Plum jelly everywhere!

And those varicose veins in my legs? They don’t matter at all. Probably will go away just as soon as I finish up this next bushel.

But those jars just keep accumulating every year. For years. And years. Now we have jars stored under the porch, and on the porch, and in the utility closet, and in the coat closet, and next to the hot water tank, and in the garage, and behind the washer. I buy a certain brand of spaghetti sauce because it comes in a canning jar. Then I save more jars. You just never can tell when you might need a canning jar in an emergency. When I hear the word ‘process’, I get goose bumps and start counting jars. And I’m sure I hear that pressure cooker hissing in my sleep. Might need more jars tomorrow. You just never can tell.

When is it time?

My son was turning  on the kitchen stool while I was preparing dinner. ‘do you think I’m ready?’ he asked. I took a few minutes to answer his question. I knew what he was talking about. He wanted to know if I thought he was ready to go out on his own. Ready to move to an apartment and start his own life. I know he was certainly old enough and had enough money to tide him over any rough times. He was always a saver and a very responsible person. But I just didn’t think he was quite ready for that big step. So I answered ‘No, I don’t think so right now. Wait a while longer. You will be glad you did.’  He was never one to argue any point, so he just said ‘O.K.’ stepped down off the stool and left the room. He never mentioned it again until almost a year later. Then he asked me the same question once more. ‘Do you think I’m ready?’ This time I answered quickly. ‘Yes, I think you are.’ With that, he bounded out of the room with a big grin on his face.

He moved shortly afterwards, sharing a rented house with a friend.

It is always hard to watch your children grow up and go out on their own. But when they are ready, they are simply ready.  They have that certain maturity about them that you can see when you carry on a conversation or watch them with their friends. They are their own person, confident, ready to face the world. With some, the time comes earlier and you have to almost hold them back by their shirt tails because they are not quite old enough in years for that step. But they are so eager to face the world and conquer it. And they want to go, go, go. Get out in the world. Face the challenges. And you know deep inside that they are not quite ready for that. So you hold on awhile longer, pulling them back, keeping them home.

I guess birds have an advantage over humans on this score. They know instinctively when their young are ready to fly the nest. In fact, they push them out the door. We humans have a tendency to hang on to our offspring. We don’t want them to have any failures. We don’t want them to make any mistakes. And yet, we did. We had to learn to build our own bridges. And the young ones will learn also.

So when they ask ‘Do you think I’m ready?’ be honest with them. If you think they are, then give them your blessings and send them on their way. If you do not think they are ready, then tell then to wait a while longer. But know in your heart that they are going. Very soon. And you will be ready when they are. After all, you raised them to do just this. To go out into the world on their own and begin their own life.

You don’t have to push them out of the nest like the birds. But be sure and put a smile on your face and send them off with a big hug. Be happy for them when you know they are ready.

Grieving……

Much is said about grief over the death of someone near and dear. Many articles in magazines as well as books have been written about the actual  act of grief and how to get through that time in your life. Those first few days, weeks and months are definitely hard to live through. First, you must face the certainty that someone is gone from your life. Then there is an adjustment of sorts. That goes on until your life is put back on track. Then there is a period of some depressing thoughts, perhaps wishing you had done something differently when you had the chance.

But the reality of grief is not any of these things. It is the lonesomeness, the wishing you could tell that someone special about something that happened to you. The sharing of a thought or a smile or an event.  And the knowing you cannot share with that person. That is the true feeling of grief and it never goes away.

My mother died in 1997.  When one of my grandchildren was born in 2000, I wanted desperately to tell my mother about the new baby. I knew I could not. Yet, the thought persisted all that day. From 8:30 that morning until bedtime, I had the urgent feeling that I NEEDED to call my mother and tell her about that new baby. It was such an exciting event and I wanted to share it with the person who would have been the great grandmother. I just HAD to call her. I just HAD to tell her about it. Every time I thought about the baby, I wanted to call my mother. In fact, at one point, I even went to the telephone, picked up the receiver and then realized that I could no longer dial that number.

I am not an overly sensitive person. I do not cry at movies, do not whine about events, do not normally shed tears about much of anything. So the actual grieving will have to be left to others. I have no time for that sort of thing. But I do feel that aloneness, that wishing I could share my life. It’s not about important things. It is the little things of life that I want to tell someone about. Like when I went to the store and ran into someone from a long time ago. When I rush home, I want to tell my husband who I saw and what was said. And he is not there.

To me, that is what grieving is all about.

It’s the Little Things We Do

Just thought I would tell you of something I do to make people happy.  It does not cost me much and takes very little time.  But it makes a whole lot of people very, very happy.

I received a calendar from a local children’s charity last year.  On it were listed the birth dates of the children they take care of.  Some months have 1 or 2, other months may have 20 names on it.  I went to the local dollar store and bought several boxes of birthday cards.  Each box cost only $1.

Then around the first of each month, I address a birthday card to each child who is on that month’s list.  Then I also enclose a $1 bill.  I usually mail all of that month’s cards at one time because otherwise I might forget to mail them later and I would not want any of the children to be disappointed.  I have received several thank you notes from children telling me how happy it made them to get the card and the $1 bill. And also telling me that it is something they all look forward to.  Total cost is very minimal.

I also send birthday cards from my retarded daughter to all her friends at school.  I follow the same procedure.  I have a list of who has a birthday each month.  I let her scribble her name somewhere on the card.  Then I enclose a $1 bill.  I address the card on the outside saying who it is to and that it is from my daughter.  Then she carries the cards to school and a teacher distributes them to the children.  Again, I send them all at one time.  The date does not matter much to the child and they are extremely happy with the thoughtfulness of the card and the excitement of receiving the dollar.

I have a friend who takes the time to stop by and read the newspaper to a friend who is bedridden.  Another friend calls the local senior citizen center and makes arrangements to take lunch to a friend once in awhile.  Then she stays and visits for a few minutes.  The visit is far more important than the meal.

One of my neighbors likes to bake.  But she and husband cannot eat a whole cake.  So she  keeps wrapped cake slices in her freezer.  If someone is ill or needs a boost that day, she takes a piece of cake to them.

It is the thought that counts you know.  It doesn’t take much money to make others happy.  Just a willing heart and a helping hand.  Give it a try.  You will be the happiest of all!

Mother’s Day (part 1)

From the book, In the 1940’s, page 22

Mother cooked, cleaned, sewed, and shopped for us.  While doing that, she also taught us all the morals we needed to know in order to live a good, honest, decent life.

We listened to what she taught us.  We did not refuse her discipline nor her teachings.  Gradually, she formed us into the people we would eventually become.

Hers was not an easy task.  The job of a Mother is not always appreciated.  It sometimes takes years to understand all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that a Mother so carefully fits into her children’s lives.  If done right, the Mother’s job is a very precious commodity and one which simply cannot be done by anyone else.