My Mom & Dad

Good Morning,

     Today is a first for me, the first time I have ever shared this picture of my Mom and Dad. I treasure it- and them. I miss them both, and never quite as much as when I am hurting. I'm hurting today- very much, so took an extremely long memory walk- one which led me here- to my parents.
    My growing up years were not perfect or easy, so when I take a backward look, I never linger at the painful, troubled, chaotic moments. Instead, I revisit those moments that touched the deepest part of my heart, the moments when I learned something. 
   
I love studying this photo. It is the one time in my life that I remember seeing  peace upon Mom's face. She loved my father so much, every bit as much, if not more, than I love my Johnny. Before his death her blue eyes sparkled and danced, especially when she laughed. But on the day he died, as she gazed at him for the last time during the funeral service, the stars in her eyes went out; that special sparkle never came back. When Dad died, part of her died too, just as part of me will die when I lose my precious Johnny.
   
Death is like that; it steals one's joy, saddens a man's heart, often removes hope for a time, and fills one with a terrible numbness, which is actually a blessing in a way. At least I view it that way. The day my Mom died, I wrote in my diary "I never knew pain till I lost she who gave me life." The pain of losing my sweet mom was the greatest pain I've known, yet I bore it, and grew in ways I'd not expected to grow.
   
Our journey, my Johnny's and mine, is now way past the middle, much closer to the end then we'd like. The sadness within my heart is so heavy sometimes, often feels more than I can bear. But I know that I can- and will. I cry a lot more in my alone times now,  but the Lord, knowing  my need, my great sorrow is always there to wipe them away.
   
I grew up without my dad but loved him with all my heart. Sometimes, when discouraged, I imagine him with me. I ask "What would you tell me if you were here" I think he would say "Life's not perfect so don't expect it to be."
 Harsh, rather cold words, yes, but they are words that have helped me through life. They are words that have kept me strong, steady, hopeful."

If Mom were here beside me and I said, "This is so hard, Mom, so terribly hard." Her reply would be what it always was when I said something like that. She would smile that sweet smile, while taking cautious sips of her coffee, and say, "You've been through worse, Barbara, and you did what you had to do. You'll make it through this too."

I will! Just taking it a day at a time. Well, more like a moment at a time these days. So sorry I've not been able to respond to emails, letters and calls. I've not felt my best and wanted to spend all my time with Johnny. My hands are somewhat better, obviously. I typed this but that will be the end of it for a day or two.

  
If you're having a good day, give thanks, if not, don't lose hope. Just remind yourself that the choices we make determine, to a large degree, just what kind of day we'll have.

Take care of yourselves.
Love you much.

Drawing courage from yesterday

Today's been tough, extremely hard for me. About the time I think I'm on top of a situation, the ground gets pulled out from under me.  I had a good cry, and I mean a good one. Then, needing some comfort and reassurance I talked things over with the Lord; told him how overwhelmed I felt, how heavy the sad within me is. I talked a long time, then sat quietly, as always I do, waiting, knowing that before long the emptiness I felt- the deep sadness would soon pass. And it did. 
    It began to fade away as I read an earlier post of mine. I'm sharing it again here, more for myself, than for you, but do hope something in this post lifts your spirits or makes you smile.
     
My 2009 Post
 
Whenever I start the morning greatly appreciating my life, I take a memory walk, wanting to reconnect with people who inspired me, encouraged me, lifted my spirits,  or taught me something, people whose belief in me enabled me to believe in myself.
     I shared Gingerbread and hot chocolate with my Mom, my heart filling with admiration as she shared her life experiences, speaking softly, as always she did, about how love can go wrong, how important it is to remember that people are more important than things, and that doing our best is always good enough. Our last conversation left me with words that literally changed my life. "If you can be honest with yourself, she said, "about yourself, you'll find the quality of your relationships will improve. Why? Because when you look at another persons  faults you're now able to see your own."She's been gone a long time now, but sometimes, like today, it's as if she never left.

The second person I visited on my walk was my father. As in all families, and within all relationships, not all is perfect. It was so with us. But I've never focused on the hurting memories, of which there are many. Better it is, I learned a long time ago, to focus on the good in life, as well as in people. This being so, I revisited Sequoia National Park; ate cold watermelon as I observed my father, who stood leaning against a Redwood tree- gazing upwards while sipping a cold beer, looking happier than I'd ever seen  him. "It just doesn't get better than this."he said, smiling at me.
     I've never forgotten that moment or the sights, sounds, and smells of it. My father taught me many things (though none by example). The most important thing?
 1-Don't take life or people for granted.
 2- Learn to control your emotions- don't allow them to control you.
 3- Everybody deserves a second chance.
   
Next to visit was Tommy, the first love of my life. I rode his maroon and white bicycle again, danced with him, went horseback riding, and felt his strength when he embraced me for the last time. It's okay, Princess." he whispered, while brushing my tears away with his fingers. "I'll be back."
   He didn't come back, but what I learned from him kept me strong, has helped me through many a storm. He was unique, had the heart of a poet- was so tall in my eyes. He taught me the true meaning of integrity, loyalty, and friendship, taught me that I'm much stronger than I believe myself to be, and am able to do whatever I wish to do.

Next, I visited Pastor Joe, who introduced me to Jesus, enabled me to experience somebody actually living what God says love is. I spoke with former friends, spent an hour swinging on an old tire swing, then revisited the tree house Tommy built for me. "For when life's too heavy." he said.
     Oh, but I loved that tree house, spent many hours there doing nothing except think about life- about how unfair it was, the way it put heaven in your hands, only to snatch it from you when you least expected it. I thought about how noisy the world was, and how hard it was to find a quiet place. I thought about the present day- wondered what tomorrow would bring (if it would leave my life as it was or change it into something I would hate). Mostly I'd think about Tommy, wishing, praying, hoping, as his dad did, that we'd be together always.

We weren't together for always. But life goes its own way, doesn't it? And the years pass, each one confronting us with truths we're never quite ready to face like: waking up one day and realizing that not only has youth left us, but we are no longer in the middle-age bracket. It takes much longer now  to do things we once did so quickly- so easily. And we're not always comfortable with the stranger in the mirror, nor with our bodies, which far to often betray us.
   But we're always going through some kind of transitions, whether big or small. And not all changes are bad.

     Like many of you I'm facing difficult things: the death of a sister, another one recovering from a stroke, a third with Parkinson's, a son whose marriage failed, a daughter losing her home...and the list goes on. We're all going through hard times, but even so, we are blessed. Every one of us! So as I so often say, be brave and have courage. Every trial comes to its own end. There is always tomorrow with it's brand new opportunities.  What helps me the very most is not to remember who I am, but whose I am.

I wish you all good things: love, joy, laughter, peace, and hope.

As always, Johnny and I wish to thank each of you for your friendship, support, love, and prayers.

PLAYING BASEBALL

      It's been a really tough day, tough week actually, and it was so tempting to throw in the towel and say "I give up. I've had it," but I didn't. I absolutely refuse to do that. Giving up means I have lost- quit- and if a man quits, if he stops trying, he has lost already.
    
I never imagined that at this stage of my life I'd feel so lost, feel so totally drained. I feel like I started a race and never quit running; am mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. Being honest here. I almost lost it today- almost did. What saved me was taking a memory walk. It was a long one, took me back to when I was a twelve year old, the new kid in town, a threat to the girls, a new pitcher to the boys.
      Baseball was the game then; was played in the lot next to our house from morning till night, every day of the week. I loved the game, and it didn't take the boys long to find out that I was good at it. 
    Three strikes and you're out! That's the rule. When I was twelve, loving baseball as I did, I didn't realize there was a lesson to be learned from that rule, one that would enable me to climb the most intimidating mountains in my life. I didn't recognize the 3 strikes and you're out rule till later in life,  when I was three months pregnant with Johnny's child and had to go to my mother's funeral. I never knew such agony, wrote in my diary that day "I never knew pain till I lost she who gave me life."
     I so wanted to quit then, felt life not worth much without my Mom. I wanted, with all my heart, to quit, but each time I'd go to my diary, I'd read the word's I written and would remember how strong a woman my Mom was. I'd remember all the abuse she'd suffered, the many things she gave up in order to care for her children. She was steady, dependable, a rock, and I wanted to be like her, wanted her to be proud of me.
    That was when, out of nowhere, the thought came to me. Mom never quit. Not once! I asked the Lord to help me, and funny as this may sound to you, I believe he did. "Use baseball." Those were the words to came to me after asking Him for help.
    It was amazing. This is how I applied the baseball rule to my life. I gave myself 1 strike if I allowed my feelings to rule me instead of the other way around. I got the 2nd strike if I stayed on the pity pot for more than a half hour. Strike 3   being OUT would only happen if I failed to show up for life. I've been struck out twice, many times since the death of my Mom, but never struck out yet- never will be.
  
     Odd, isn't it, the way things work out sometimes?  Like this post, for instance. I had no idea what I was going to write about until that last little thing popped up, which isn't a little thing at all, but my Johnny's dying.  It hurts so much, dear ones, to lose bits and pieces of him every day, but...for now he is still here, still putting the SUN into my days, and you all know that sunshine makes for "SHINY" moments.
   
Be good to yourselves today. If you're facing intimidating mountains as I am, try using baseball to help you through it. If not baseball, then whatever it takes to enable you to hang in there. It's tough sometimes,I know, to show up for life when your heart is upon the ground. But I also know, from personal experience that showing up for life is worth it. It really is.

Take care. Be good to others and to yourselves too.
Johnny and I both thank you for all the love and support we are getting. We appreciate it so much.


   
                                  BARB And JOHNNY
   

What Song Do You Sing?

What is your song, your story? How have you named yourself? What word, when you say it aloud, rings true about this inner voice, in the deepest part of your heart?
When I whisper the word mother aloud I feel a sense of responsibility. When I say "child of an alcoholic" I feel lost and afraid, confused and very sad. When I say "friend" I feel caring, valued, sometimes overwhelmed. Every time I ask myself another question, I place myself on a different pathway in life, have a different set of lessons to learn- opportunities to give.
    Johnny's being on hospice has caused me to spend a lot of nights thinking about my life. I often find myself viewing it as a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle and get frustrated when pieces don't quite fit. This was how it was last night, after the sun began its journey to the other side of the world. I got Johnny settled down for the night and stood on our patio staring at God's nightlights. Then it was, that I recalled the beautiful story I am now going to share with you.

   There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted- not from when they're born, not from when they're conceived- but from the day that the child was a thought in the mother's mind.
   
And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she's heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child's father and teaches him the song.  And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of the time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite the child to come.
  
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child's song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old woman and the people around her sing the child's song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child's song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks the child up and sings it's song to it. Or perhaps if the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty--then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.

     And it goes this way through their life, in marriage; the songs are sung, together. And finally, when the child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing, for the last time, the song to this person.

   What is your song, I ask again? Do you have one to comfort yourself, to encourage yourself? I"m not sure if this post will make sense to anybody reading it, but that's okay. It makes sense to me, is filling a need I have at the moment, an enormous need for comforting, which is why I went outside to gaze at God's nightlights; always lit so I can find my way home.

    My song? It is "How Great Thou Art."
    
There is nothing quite as comforting as staring up at the starry heavens. Doing that enables me to see just how small I really am, and just how great HE is- how absolutely Wonderful!
   

   For the love, friendship- support.
      Love you much,
     Johnny- Barb.

 

TEARS AND SMILES

 I meant to post this sooner but you know how it goes- life happens. Each time I determined to post this something else came up. It took awhile, but I finally got everything else taken care of so am taking time to chat with you.
     This entry is in response to all the emails I've received asking how Johnny is doing.  I hope that it lifts your spirits as much as sharing it lifts mine.

As most of you know, we've informed our family as to Johnny's condition so family members have been arranging their schedules in order to come see him. Our son, Mark was here a couple of weeks ago and Monday, two of his daughters came to see us. Oh, I wish you could have seen Johnny's face light up when the girls walked in. We've not seen them in, well, probably close to eight or nine years. Seeing them after all this time brought tears to our eyes. These two grand daughters grew up hanging out at our house. We have missed them a lot. Ever since Johnny got on hospice all he has talked about was how much he'd love to see everybody. He and I, especially the past month, have taken so many memory walks that for a short time we forgot where we really were, how close that final goodbye is.
     Our granddaughters brought me flowers, filled up our refrigerator with foods they thought we'd enjoy,  then cooked a special Mexican dinner because  they know that is their grandpa's favorite. He loved it- ate more than he usually does. Oh, my dear friends, this visit tired him so very much, but filled his heart too.
   In between catching up on everything they took all kinds of pictures, pics of Johnny and me, our son Christopher and his little girl Jennifer , pics of themselves with all of us too.
    Crying a bit as I type this out. It's kind of hard not to, loving Johnny as I do. This morning he is extremely tired, finding it difficult to stay awake so will no doubt sleep a lot. Before the end of the month these two granddaughters will be back, but this time will bring husbands and children. They'll rent a motel and take turns visiting us, just two or three at a time.
   I'm sure  by reading this update you can pretty much see just where Johnny and I are on our journey, more towards the end than the middle, but we are doing okay. We, our sons, and granddaughters cried a lot, but also laughed a lot while remembering former Christmas's Thanksgiving, birthdays, and summer time at our house.
    "We did good." Johnny said, last night, just after the girls left to return home. "We did." I said, and hugged him as tightly as I dared without hurting him. "But it's tiring you, even more than I thought it would." 

    "It is, Barb, but I wouldn't want it any other way."

Nor would I, dear reader. Life is all about tears and smiles; can't have one without the other. It just doesn't work that way. I've cried more this month than I have in a year and know it isn't the end of my tears, but more like the beginning. Still, as Johnny said, "I'd not have it any other way.
    Our life is filled with "Shiny" moments, and sometimes, even those awesome "Shiny"moments bring tears, just like these past two days did, but as I said, they go together, tears and smiles.
   Even tears shed during the darkest moments of our life are healing. They empty out the sadness within. They really do, and if we wait long enough- are patient enough, the sun will find our hiding place and enable us to smile again.

Thank you so much for all the emails, cards, letters and phone calls. I share every one with Johnny and every time I do he says," Baby, knowing you have such great friends in your corner, in our corner, takes a load off my mind. I know when i am gone you won't be by yourself. You'll have the Lord, yes, but people too, who really care for you and will be there for you. That means the world to me."   It means the world to me too. We both want you to know that .

Take care of yourselves. If you're having a hard day, remind yourself that every trial, every single one, comes to its own end. If you're having a great day, remember those who may not be, and do something nice for them.


Love you much,

Good morning, guys & dolls,

   I hope you woke to as much sunshine as I did but don't want it to get too hot for you. Our temps are supposed to be in the high 90's today- triple digits tomorrow. I am not looking forward to that.

    I meant to post this entry sooner but the arthritis in my hands is worsening and typing is getting more painful. I waited two days to see if they'd get better. They're not but I am posting any way, while I can. I wanted to share last months "Shiny" moment with you.

     Our oldest son came to visit us from Arizona, stayed two days. Oh, I wish you could have seen what that visit did for Johnny. It has been a long time since I heard him laugh- I mean really laugh, and he did, a lot. He and our oldest son  have always been close. They used to fish several times a week, worked on cars together, went to swap meets together, worked on odd jobs together, when things got tight. Before Johnny was forced to retire he worked in a barber shop, chose doing that because his health was failing and it was something he could handle. Our son owned his own barber shop, a beautiful one that he filled with things used in old barber shops, some over 100 years old. His shop was so unique it made the papers. People would get their hair cuts there just so they could check out all the antiques.
   
    I didn't realize how badly we all needed to see each other. Our son said taking the two days off was a huge blessing. "I'd forgotten what I gave up when we moved to Arizona." he said." I like living there but it is just so beautiful here. I'd forgotten about all the water, how green Oregon is, about all the trees."  He needed that break, had been making it on a mere four hours sleep a day. He was worn out.Our youngest son, our caretaker, wanted to go rafting with his brother but they were unable to this time.- hope to do it next time.
     Johnny is not doing well, has had a lot of really rough days this week, but he is here; is still with us. I know that one day, probably in the not so distant future, he won't be, but that is okay. It's not as if I am going through something nobody else ever experienced. Death is the part of life nobody likes to talk about, but sometimes we have too, miserable as that might make us feel. Johnny and I talk a lot, more now than before, because we know time is a fleeting thing- a wisp of smoke that is here- then gone. We focus on how good God has been to us, take memory walks together, stopping at all the places that pleasured us so much. He has given me so much of himself, everything I need to make it alone, though as I say so often, I won't really be alone; if I am alone, I am alone with God and there is not a safer, more wonderful place to be.
New beginnings! Every day offers us that; a do-over, as we used to call them when kids. A new day = a new way; opportunity to do better, to be better, to reach our goals, to make a difference in somebody's life.  What could be better than that?

 Take care. Life is short so create a wonderful memory  today.
 Love you much.
                   
Barb


  



   

Yep, that's me, trying to keep my balance as thoughts swirl within my head, sometimes so fast I can't keep up. That being the case, I'll just let my fingers keep walking as my mind keeps talking (and hope) it makes sense to you.

    I woke up to sunshine instead of the rain we had yesterday. I love the way our world smells after a rain, smells so clean and fresh- so pure.
    I sipped the one cup of coffee I allow myself per day while sitting on our patio. It felt good to be alone for that short period of time, to not have to be doing something. It seems like years since I've been able to take a quiet hour for myself, the one I always looked forward to each day. Oh, I do take time to come online and update my journals, if I have the strength and am not too tired. And I do take time to check up on my family and friends, to see how they are doing, to find out what their needs are, and to thank them for being there for me. But that is not the same as the quiet hour I got used too, the kind of hour that so blesses me, fills me to the brim with optimism and renewed hope.
   
The kind of hour I am referring to is when I sat outside in the early morning hours, usually before the world woke up, long before the sun had began its journey to the other side of the world. I'd sit and do nothing but look, feel, and listen. I'd look at the sky and the trees and the flowers, whose faces still had a while to wait before being touched by the sun.  I'd look at the apartments around me, and the houses, and pray for the people inside. I'd watch the stars disappear from my vision, one by one, and then start listening as the world began to stir. I'd hear a baby's cry, the sound of a car starting up, an airplane passing over. I'd hear a door open and close, a telephones insistent ring.  I'd hear a cab driver honking his horn, reminding somebody that he was waiting. Then I'd hear stirrings within my own place of residence and sigh, knowing another day had begun.
    I let myself feel whatever it was I felt, whether good or bad, knowing that feelings are just that-feelings, nothing more- nothing less, then stood a moment longer before going back inside.
     Johnny's smile did its magic, reminded me of what truly matters. "Good morning, sweetheart." he said, as he ran shaky fingers through his hair. "Did you sleep better last night? Did I do better this time?"
   "You did. You actually made it till 3:30 before having to wake me."
  " I hate waking you at all. I really do."
   "I know. But that's okay. It just gives me that much more time to visit with you." I said this, knowing that as soon as he took his meds and had coffee he'd be drowsy again, would fall asleep either in his bed, or in the recliner next to it. He is beginning to sleep more, a good sign in one way- a horrible sign in another. Still...it is what it is, and life must go on- will go on.

This graphic on the left is one I treasure. It reminds me of what not to do, which is to try to hide from what is uncomfortable, painful, and intimidating. It reminds me of how many years it took for me to learn that fear only has as much power as I give it. It ran my life for a long time. What a relief it was to finally be able to stare it down.
    As painful and miserable as trials make us feel sometimes they are good for us. Truly! They teach us things like compassion and patience. They reveal to us that we're much stronger than we believe ourselves to be, and that the word can't becomes CAN when we make just a simple change in the word- and  our attitude.


Well, I warned you; told you some of this might not make much sense to you. Mostly I'm kind of venting a bit, needing too. This journey I'm on catches me off guard every once in awhile, reminds me how wise it is to pencil an an hour to myself, an hour where I don't have to do anything, can just relax and be.

 There are things still needing to be done today, but I'd like to share just one more thing; it's what I call pocket change. We all have a little, a few dimes, a penny, maybe two nickles in our purse or pants pockets, giving little thought to its importance until we go to purchase something and realize our paper money isn't quite enough, we need a little pocket change to go with it.
    So it is with those small things in life, things we seldom, if ever think about, simple things that take so little time, like saying please, thank you, excuse me. Oh, we never forget to say these things when away from home; say them all the time to strangers. But what about our families and our friends? It takes a little pocket change sometimes in order to purchase necessities of life- takes good manners and thoughtfulness if we wish to bless and enrich our relationships and add quality to our lives.

Every day is full of the Lord's blessings, "SHINY" moments to lift us up, encourage and strengthen us, help us grow, and to remind us of how much we are loved. Hard times come to us all. How long they linger is determined by how much of a welcome they get- and what kind of attitude we have.

Stay sweet, kind, tenderhearted and gentle. Be good to others but also good to yourselves. Take care, and thanks for the love, friendship and support