I Miss Them Like Crazy

Last summer, my daughter-in-law applied for a job at a church much closer to where we live. So close, in fact, that it's the same church that my dad attends. After several months of prayer and a lengthy interview process, she got the job!

I was ecstatic. While the new position meant they would live closer to us, it meant they would need to move because the commute would be too much for someone on their income.

As I prayed for the job to be hers if it would be God's will, I told God that if this job was the right fit for her then, He would need to take care of it all for them. Matt would need a job, too They would need an affordable place to live, they would need a place at which to stay if they couldn't find a place to live right away...and so on and so forth. I wanted to lay it all at his feet for what better place could it be?

They moved in with several month's afterwards with the understanding that it would be just for 3 or 4 months. Matt could help around the house with manly chores and pitching in with me when mom needed to just kick back. Let's just say this...some days were diamonds, some days were stone. Tuesday nights we instituted family dinner in which we would all eat together. Everyone was supposed to pitch in with the meal and with the clean up...except for mom and Ashley whom it seemed as if they were always doing more than their fair share. But hey, it worked and when they moved out at the beginning of this month, we were all still talking to one on another.

For a while, it looked like they were going to stay here indefinitely and suddenly just as quickly as they moved in, they were moving out. One weekend they went to look at a place and the next moment, Matt is telling me they will likely be moving in there. The next week, Matthew has three job interviews, the last one he accepts an offer and he's working there in less than a week. I'm praising God, after all, this has everything we asked for from God and more.

The best part of this whole thing was getting to spend time with my two little grandchildren. When I say quality time, I mean quality time. It was so sweet to have them want to come show me how some toy worked or tell me some goofy joke. At times the noise and squabbly got to be too much, but now that they are away, I miss them like crazy.

The Beauty of the Patio

At this moment I'm sitting at our patio, the air wafting past me, gently my hair flutters about as if being combed by God's fingers. Wind chimes are calling attention to anyone who cares to listen. sharing the secrets of the birds who have been passing gossip all day long. Added to the lovely melody is the sweet fragrance from what's left of the flowers and plants that the barbarians disguised as gardeners haven't hacked away. Yet.

I am in Heaven.

Going to Do it Anyway

I miss having my camera by my side, being able to quickly or methodically being able to pick it up, capturing a moment in life that calls to the deepest crevices in my heart.

Hoping and praying someday soon I'll be able to shoot with ease again. If not, it's time for me do it anyway even if it's not easy.

Happy Endings

The Prodigal Charm Bracelet

It's been MIA for over a year. I didn't dare say this to anyone else, but as the weeks and months passed by I was beginning to lose hope that I would ever see it again.

Even as doubt began to creep in, I still refused to say the bracelet was lost. This wasn't just any old bracelet, though as one of my oldest pieces of jewelry, it was getting up there in years. This was my charm bracelet. The one dad bought for me one foggy day in San Francisco thus beginning decades of collecting pretty sterling silver momentos of the places we traveled to or lived in. Between the sentimental value, the added cost of each charm, and cost of travel, the bracelet definitely had a "priceless" quality to it.

For these reasons and more it was difficult to admit it was likely lost forever. For all intents and purposes I said the bracelet was missing. I was so sure at the beginning that the bracelet would miraculously appear...Under the bed amidst the dust bunnies on the floor...In one of the many trinket boxes cluttering my room...Tucked under the driver's seat of my little VW bug, along with the quarters, candy and gum wrappers that cluttered the floor...Jammed into the desk drawer that houses all the junk that you don't want to throw away, yet doesn't have a good home in the house...hanging out in the wet bar sink that has only been used as a storage bin for junk mail, bobby pins, cellphone charges and other devices...My list of places to look could go on and on.

Each place I methodically combed thru came up empty-handed...no charm bracelet, no sign of any charms. After all the years of collecting the silver replicas of the places we visited, it was hard to let go and resign myself to the fact that it was likely gone. Gone for good. Gone for bad. Gone. Gone. Gone.

My heart knew it. My mind knew it, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it out loud because once I did, all bets were off and my words would make it so. Gone forever. So I did the only thing I could do. I pretended to myself not to care which was a bold faced lie. I also pretended to be confident...it would show up at the least unexpected moment.

I also prayed to God that if were not too much trouble, could he lead me to my bracelet? After all, if there was one thing I knew for sure it was that God knew exactly where my charm bracelet was. If it was in some obscure place in my room, or stuffed into some box of junk we didn't know what do with, he would reveal it when the time was right.

Nothing.

I had only misplaced my charm bracelet once before which is surprising because I have a bad habit of subconsciously taking off my jewelry and putting the jewelry down without any thought which has resulted in the loss of many other bracelets, rings, earrings and necklaces. But my charm bracelet? Never! It had too much sentimental value for me to be so careless with it.

It was one of the first "real" pieces of jewelry I owned. Dad bought it for me one foggy day 40-years ago in San Francisco. What made him decide to do it, I'm not sure. All I know is we walked into a little store located on the crowded streets as we walked from Fisherman's Wharf to Pier 39 and we came out with a glistening silver bracelet, with a glistening clover shaped charm firmly attached. With all our travels, it was a perfect gift. Soon the links were filled with charms in the shape of the state in which we visited or some other sightseeing wonder. I mourned the loss of the Colosseum which we bought during my first visit to Italy and the Leaning Tower of Pisa which represented my second and likely (though I hope not) last trip to Italy.

It felt like a dream when I received a call from my baby girl last December asking me to "guess what". What? What? What?  Guessing games are difficult as well as annoying when one is woken up from a deep sleep with no clue of where to begin. After a few failed attempts, she took pity upon me and agreed to give me a hint or two.

Her first hint gave me enough of a clue that I was afraid to guess what I wanted to guess. "You've been looking for it for a long time now." I was afraid I would cry if I was wrong. Where was my confident hope that I always laid claim to.

"You found my charm bracelet?!?" I braced myself, closing my eyes as she answered with a yes that was too good to be true. Surely she was pulling my leg. I waited for the punchline. Only there wasn't. After all that time, it turned out my bracelet was hidden tight in a crevasse of my car. Stuck in a little compartment between the back passenger seats and the trunk. A compartment we never ever used. A compartment I don't believe I never ever even opened.

For some obscure reason, Brie decided to open the compartment and feel around the perimeter when her hand came upon a cloth Brighton bag. It had to feel like a miracle when she opened the drawstrings and there was my charm bracelet glistening hello. It felt like one to me when she brought it to my room later that night.

My tears flowed. I love happy endings

Why I have Hope

Where have I been? I wish I had a good, true story to tell, such as I caught a fast plane to France and have been writing with Hemingway, painting with Van Gogh while indulging in thick, creamy cups of hot chocolate chased by warm pieces of fresh baguettes topped with rich, fresh butter. All the while not worried at the least about the number of calories being consumed because I'm in the city of light and love, which means all the walking and metro rides are doing their part in consuming my calories.

How I wish I were the person living life as described above. If I knew then what I know now, would my life be any different? I want to think yes! It's far better than writing about the last few setbacks that I encountered which created not just a serious case of writer's and creativity block at a time when I felt I was running on eight cylinders, but also laid me up in bed for longer than I care to admit.

But, the setbacks are not what I want to spend my time writing about. They already consumed up too much of my life. What's worse is it's time I can't get back as much as I want to. I also don't want to spend time writing about the things I've been doing for the last two weeks even though it makes me believe the winter in my brain is finally thawing out. Time will be show the truth.

What I do want to do is thank God. For the fact that during all of this, He held on to my righthand and never let go. He was there before me, next to me and behind me, every step of the way never forsaking me, never forgetting me, no matter how much I whined. No matter how much I felt like throwing in the towel.

God is so good. All the time, God is good.

That's why I have hope.

Christmas Magic

Since I'm not sure how much time I'm going to be holed up in my room this Christmas, I decided to invest in some Christmas magic. I don't know that mom understands. On one hand, she complains and makes faces whenever we discuss Christmas decorating. Yet, on the other hand, she encourages the children at times to add more to the mess.

The True Magic of Christmas...The Birth of a Child who was and is our King

For example, on Monday night when Max, Mason and Aurora were decorating the tree, someone asked if we should get more bulbs for the tree. Trying to be considerate of mom, I suggested that perhaps we had enough. Mom disagreed and thought we should continue to add more. I was surprised and mentioned that I thought it may be good to minimize the number of bulbs as would make clean up easier when Christmas was over.

A similar incident happened when we were pulling out the mugs. I wasn't about to argue about that one at all!

The First Christmas Mug of the Season!

When mom brought me my coffee yesterday, I swear it tasted even better because it was served in a beautiful Christmas mug.

It was just what I needed to get into the Christmas Spirit. Now if I can just bake some goodies. That would take the cake!

A Dream Come True

It was a dream come true. Breakfast at the Storyteller Cafe with the family and a crew of fuzzy wuzzy Disney Characters. It wasn't Mickey, Goofy or even Donald who can be found at Goofy's Kitchen at the Disneyland Hotel, but in many ways it's better.

Blurry but better than nothing

The Storyteller Cafe has Baloo, Chip and Dale and a few other second class citizens that most of us aren't familiar with. Does it matter? Not to M1, M2 and A1. In many ways, the experience at the Cafe is better than the kitchen. The characters spend more time with the guests and the children didn't seem the least bit disappointed that Mickey and Pluto were no where to be found.

M and Brother Bear...At least we think it's Brother Bear

On top of that, there is the game of "Follow the Leader" in which the characters dance around the dining room with the children in tow, after which they do the Hokey Pokey and a few other old time favorite songs. The whole thing is simply magical. It's what Disney does best...making the experience top notch and worth every penny that is spent there.

Shar and me enjoying the sunshine at the Lego store

The added bonus? The food was plentiful and delicious and the service outstanding.

Breakfast of Champions

The best thing about the morning? Spending it with my family. What a fun time we had.

Disney glasses are the cutest!

Is it Just a Dream?

For the past few weeks I've been living in a fog. It's as if I'm in a dream. I keep waiting for the dream to end.  The whole experience is disturbing. The last few days I've been using the oxygen that Hospice has given to me and it seems to make a difference. As I sit here typing, while I don't feel 100%, I don't feel the need to runaway the way I used to.

Here are my fears. I hate to list them and give them credit, but then I think that by listing them, they lose their stronghold over me. That's ultimately what I want. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy.  Conversations don't seem real so I'm constantly asking everyone if they are really there and are we really conversing.

This is especially true when the communication is occurring via telephone or text message. For example, yesterday Uncle Frank called. I felt so badly for him. He was sobbing and sobbing as he asked for prayer for Blake, Becky and Jadon. After the call ended, I sat there questioning whether the conversation was real. It didn't seem like it, but I know deep inside it was.

I guess that's it. The bottom line is this. Even though I question all of this, the bottom line is I know it's real. Perhaps the point is, I wish it wasn't...wasn't real. Because that would hopefully mean I'm not stuck here in bed talking to myself, experiencing shortness of breath, and all the, excuse my language, crap that comes with it. It wouldn't be so bad if I could write, create art and take photographs when I'm in this state, but I can't.

Bottom line is this...no photos today :(

The Truth

The light coming into my room in the early morning hours has been so lovely. When the shades are drawn it looks gray and dank outside so it's always a pleasant surprise when the shades are opened and there is sunlight streaming through.

It's one of the many things for which I can give thanks to God. The importance of thanks has been an on-going theme in my morning devotional. It's amazing how much focusing on thanks helps lift the spirit. A few mornings ago, as I was reading my devotional, I was struck with the realization that my thanks to God were superficial.

Sure I thank God when I reading my devotional and bible verse(s) in the morning, but throughout the day, my acknowledgements of the treasured tidbits become few and far between. A better job is needed on my part to continually be in communication with God, thanking him for all the joy he is putting in my path.

This is the day that the Lord has made

For this is the day that the Lord has made! I will rejoice and be glad in it. It feels so good to say these words because they are so true.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

In 2012 I traveled pretty extensively...Here's a little list, in no particular order...

• Italy

• Austin

• Boston

• 
  

• Sacramento (and all the little trips to Old Towns)

• San Francisco (April 2012)

• San Francisco (not once, but twice!)

 

• San Diego/La Jolla

• Monterey

In 2014, my world shrank considerably and thus far I've been able to travel to the following...

• Phoenix (spring training for Dodgers)

• Sacramento

• Boo Hoo Hoo

Trying to work out a trip for my last big hurrah...or something that will kick start me into spreading my horizons.

Wondering where 2015 will take me. Somewhere over the rainbow. I hope.

It's a Four Letter Word

For over a month now, I've been trying to get my creative emergence on. Some days I don't get anything done, others I put a layer of paint on a canvas, but at this rate I won't have any product to open my shop until 2016...I kid you NOT!

I watch the children in envy. At this early age, they are the epitome of creative emergence. Give them a few paint brush, some paint and a blank piece of paper and in no time at all, they are presenting you with a masterpiece.

There is no second-guessing, no obsessing about whether the blue should be placed to the left or the right of the green, or if the yellow is too close to the blue. When do we lose our creativity to fear. Fears of making a mistake. Fears of what others may think. Fears of not being good enough.

Fear...it's a four-letter word.

It Took the Cake!

Yesterday I spent the day in as close to a catatonic day that I ever want to experience. I would much rather never ever experience it again. From the time I awoke to the time I closed my eyes for the last time, I was in tears. Not the running down your face tears, but the sobbing so loudly at times that someone would come to see how I was doing.

I didn't want to admit it at first, but one of the reasons for the breakdown was likely due to the change of medication. On Thursday, my doctor and I agreed that I would cut down on not only the steroid (one pill in total to 1/2 pill) but the morphine, too (2 pills in total to 1 pill in total). After some discussion with my mom and dad, we agreed it was probably too much for me and I likely was going thru some sort of withdrawal.

Mom is also not convinced that I took the correct dosages in the morning. That could well be. Regardless, I was a gigantic mess for most of the day. Crying because I was an emotional mess, crying because my neck and leg hurt, crying because I couldn't get comfortable, crying because everyone was worried about me, crying, crying, crying.

We decided to go back to the dosage of medication that I was on and see what happens. So far so good. I'm still feeling a little odd, but the pain is gone (hip hip!) and I haven't dropped a single tear today. On the plus side, around 9pm, Brie came to my room which was at first strange since I thought she left several hours before then for a party at Janae's.

Turned out Patrick had to work overtime and she had been waiting all this time in the car for him. I felt so badly for her...and him. He must be so tired. At any rate, I was still have trouble processing everything in my brain, but I was able to fake my way through it all. I suggested that we do something to pass the time and help her relax. She surprisingly agreed so she helped straighten my room and put together a shopping list for Target.

In what could be called divine intervention, he texted her, just as we were finishing up the shopping list. By this time, it was almost 10pm. I was pretty tired, but happy that she was happier than she was when she first walked in. As a reward, she brought me in a little late night snack...a yummy yummy cupcake from Max's birthday party!

I must say, it took the cake!!

These Two...

These two, as my grandmother used to say, "are full of the dickens." My, oh, my, today they took the cake and were on a sugar high almost the whole day long. It was hard not to laugh at their antics as they kept their daddy on his toes for most of the day.

That's the way it goes sometimes. It did make me laugh when we got back from the doctors and the two of them were squished together on the couch, covered with blankets, surrounded by a boatload of toys, happy grins on their faces as they announced that they in a fort that made them intervisible (no typo here).

Oh, how I love these two. Intervisible or not!

Life is But a Dream

Been living in dreamland for the last few days. My brain doesnt seem to be in sync with my vision making everything I see and feel like a question.

Am I really here?

Is this a real conversation?

Is this person sitting here in front of me?

Am I still alive or is this heaven? (It better not be heaven because I'm hoping for soemthing better!)

One thing that keeps me going are the grandbabies who keep me laughing and smiling...

My Little Interruption

These little hands are part of the reason my little shop will be opening about a week late. How can I help myself when it brightens my day just to hear his sweet little voice say, "Hey, hey, grandma, grandma!"

At this point, I'll take all the interruptions I can get :)

September 01, 2014

The truth is, I gave up on myself and as much as I hate to admit it, if I gave up on myself, that means I gave up on God. If He is able to do all immeasurable things then why did I cave like a blob of ice cream that landed on the sidewalk on a hot summer's day?

If it wasn't that August was a long month, I would have missed it all. As it was, I slept through most of it, unwilling to raise myself from the self-induced coma which put me in a vegetative state for more than 80% of the day for most of the month.

There are days and conversations that I flat out don't remember. This I do...

1. I begged to be taken to respite care
2. I considered and actually asked to have a catheter put on me so I wouldn't have to get up
3. Thousands of prayers being said in my name and even in my pity-party state, feeling them circle around me, protecting me from my doubts and fears
4. The gradual awakening of my soul until I could begin to visualize myself walking out of this room
5. Friends and family who continued to visit even though I would fall asleep throughout their visit
6. The kind and thoughtful stream of visitors who brought food, ice cream, pie and other treats that provided add incentive to pull my bottom out from this bed its been glued to for too many days on end
7. My mom and dad, while lovingly supportive, who also knew when to push me to push myself
8. Care team members who took time out of their day to pray and encourage me. There were times, I wanted to tell mom I wasn't up for company, but I needed each and every groan uttered in my name

August has ended and a new month has begun. I plan to take it not only one day at a time, but more like, one hour at a time. I won't pretend to know how the start compares to the end, but this I know, 

God has not, will not forsake me. He is where He has always and will always be...right beside and right behind me. He will give me strength when I am weak, I need not be afraid. No matter what, these are the truths that I carry with me. He loves me that much. He loves YOU that much. No matter our trials, they are of equal sorrow, equal need, equal importance. 

He may not answer our requests as we want him to, but when he does (and HE always answers) we will find his response(s) even more powerful, magnificent, fulfilling than we thought possible. Knowing God and reading His word, why was there any doubt at all? 

Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. (‭Isaiah‬ ‭41‬:‭10‬ NLT)

These Four Walls

It's been a long time coming...so long in fact, I had begun to give up. Not to sound melodramatic, but that was my reality and it stunk, stunk bad.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring? It's best not to think ahead. "Take it one day at a time, Debbi," I quietly tell myself. Looking ahead is too scary. I trust in God. I do. That's not even a question. The question is, "am I strong enough to face what's coming?" I wish I knew. I know that God is. That should be enough. It's him I trust, not me.

But today, the coffee tasted so good. And I was able to sit at the edge of the bed, my body straighter than the day before. I ate almost every bite of my breakfast, enjoying every moment of it. And I actually talked about going outside Friday, even if my stomach turned at the thought. Still it feels good to begin to think of things outside of these four walls.

Visualization

He came a little over two weeks ago, invited in moments of quiet desperation, a psychical therapist with a melt-me-away french accent, who was intended to show me how to get myself up out of my wheelchair, recliner and bed. After weeks of, slowly but surely, climbing out of the haze clouding my mind and the weakness permeating my muscles, I was suddenly losing the battle.

I could no longer remember days, let alone minutes or hours, each day was spent with eyes mostly closed, body barely moving, mind closed, thoughts too muddled to make sense of much of anything at all. Things were inexplicably taking a turn for the worse.

I had no strength, no hope, barely any faith. I had not given up on God, but I could feel myself giving up on myself. I began to talk about moving to long term care as my family hopelessly looked on willing me not to give up, afraid that such a move would mean all was lost.

Thankfully, I have such a family to pull me up, refusing to let me give up so easily, just as I had been so unwilling to give up just weeks before.

Now, I can see myself fighting the fight. I can visualize myself walking to the bathroom, to the dresser on the other side of my bedroom. Its not quite time yet, but I will get there. I've begun to put little goals out there and taking the steps I need to make these goals a reality.

New Shoes

A week and a half ago I ordered eight pairs of shoes. Yes, eight. It seemed such an extravagant thing to do considering the amount of walking I'm actually doing. But I needed to face reality and I only had four pair that I was able to wear. Two of them sandals which I haven't worn a lot lately, one pair of dirty tennis shoes and one pair of black flats. New shoes would help me not feel so shabby or so I hoped.

Seven of the eight pair were delivered yesterday which was ironic because I was at a low for most of the day. The delivery did nothing to pick me up. It was rather like a slap in the face. Why bother to open up the boxes? What was the point? All night long, the boxes sat untouched, like an unwelcome visitor. 

Mom talked me into opening one of the the boxes this morning. I still didn't have the desire to look open the box, but I didn't want to make her feel bad. Inside was a cute pair of clean blue tennis looking just like the picture I saw on-line. I could wear them tomorrow, she said cheerfully, for chemo. I nodded in agreement.

After Brie got up, I asked her to open the rest of the boxes for me. One after another, cute shoes came out of hiding. And then my tears began again. The night before I had slept poorly again, the pain in my legs crying worse than a newborn baby. What was the point? Why did I go and buy so many stupid pairs of shoes?

Is this really my life?  

The answer was so clear. Yes, Debra, it is! 

So what are you going to do with it? 

After lunch, I cried some more, calling out to God, my healer. I know he has the power. I know. I know without a doubt he can heal. I know without a doubt he can heal me. Please do it Lord, please. At least let me walk again without pain. At least let me sleep tonight without pain. I have given up so much. I held nothing back from my prayers, Why should I? He knows me like no other so no point in pretending. 

And then I slept for thirty minutes. Since that time, the ache has subsided. The ache in my leg and the ache in my heart. 

Things for which I am thankful for
1. A God who listens to my cries and comforts me
2. Friends and family who care for me and about me
3. A delicious meal my mom so lovingly prepared the night before
4. Brie for helping me so much this morning
5. A medication to help with the nerve damage that seems to be working (thanks be to God!)
6. A day of work
7. New shoes...eight pairs of them

Tired of the Pain

After days of positive thinking, of saying, at least, mentally I feel strong, of pushing past the pain, I took a step backwards. I could feel it coming all day yesterday as I did little to move off my recliner, pretending that I needed a Sunday of rest. As I pulled myself off the recliner this morning, anxious to get the morning started, apprehensive that with each step I took, the pain would commence. The truth is, I've gotten to the point where I want to move as little as possible so tired of the pain that I'm in.

At lunchtime, I tried to pull myself out of my funk by writing in my daily journal of gratitude. It wasn't working. I tried harder by moving myself to the patio. It made me feel a little better, but not enough. I tried even harder by walking one and a half times around the patio.

By the end of lunch, I was back on my recliner, my legs aching, crying out loud. The pain, I can take. The self-pity, not so much. Still, I pray for a reprieve from the pain. I am praying, pleading, begging the Lord that the new medication I'm taking will give me relief.

I was reading something today that someone wrote about waiting and how waiting for the unknown was the hardest. I get it. I think about one of my biggest fears, paralysis. It may come tomorrow, it may never come. Today, it was foremost on my mind. I can't sit forever, it's not good for compression, yet I don't know what else to do, standing is virtually impossible, walking not much better.

A thought struck my mind. I'm afraid of paralysis and yet, here I am, spending most of my time doing what I'm most afraid of...sitting...in a chair. Yes, I can still get up, take a shower, get my food, dress myself, but even that I'm not doing much of. I haven't taken a shower since Friday...yuck! I know, it makes me feel even worse.

In some ways I felt an amount of relief. If that would be my lot in life, well, then, I could handle it. In some ways, perhaps the pain would be limited, I don't know. I hope so.