Monthly Archives: October 2007
Say a prayer today for my sister
She is having knee replacement surgery this morning at Bay Health, Dover.
Over the years, she has endured much pain. She nearly died with a ruptured appendix, she has had migraine headaches that would have stopped lesser women. She has had back surgery following unsuccessful pain management therapy. The knees have been giving her excruciating pain over the last few years, actually, and she finally decided the time was right to do something about it. She is first of all, Godly. But beyond that, she is warm and funny and has a heart for people that is as big as the whole outdoors. Please pray that the surgery is successful, that the results will be beyond our wildest expectations, and that the time between now and full recovery will be filled with unexpected joy and wonderful surprises!
I love you, Sis!
Sarah is out of surgery.
The Dr. says
everything went well!
“Lord, we offer grateful praise!”
Two years ago today, Old Gertrude went home to Heaven. I found the following “blurb” that I had written a week after her passing, and decided to put it here to remind me of that day.
Today, At Home, she walks among the flowers, and listens to Celestial music, and adds her already perfect pitch to the choir. She sits on Jesus’ lap, and rests and no one tries to rush her.
She went Home without me there to hold her hand until the Angels took her. “Heavenly Father, how very much I wanted to be there!” And now I will never see her face again on this side of the river. I will always wonder how those final moments were. Was there anyone there? Did they hold her gently until she was gathered up in the arms of the Angels to be carried home? What was the expression on her face in Death? Was it peaceful? Smiling?
It doesn’t matter now, to her at least. She doesn’t need me to hold her hand or guide her steps. She doesn’t need me to comb her hair or help her dress or give her a shower or bring her breakfast. She doesn’t need me to steady the walker or fasten the seat belt or take her to the doctor. She doesn’t need me for anything anymore. And that is Glory for her.
But I still need her. I need the songs in the shower, I need the comfort she was so ready to give me. I need the loyalty and love and conversation and presence. It wouldn’t help in the long run, but I just wish I could touch her one more time. I wish I could smooth that soft, soft cheek and stroke those wrinkly, veined hands. I wish I could sing one more song with her and answer more of her never ending questions. I wish I had one more time to be patient for the times that I wasn’t. But I do not wish that I had loved her more, because I loved her without reservation, but I wish I could tell her one more time that I loved her.
I always knew this day would come. I just kept thinking it wouldn’t be now.
I went to the doctor today. I had hoped to have my cast taken off. It has been five weeks. The good doctor says that there are signs of healing, but not very much. They will re-evaluate in two weeks. He insists that things are going good. He did not take the cast off.
The hardest things about a cast have nothing to do with my broken foot.
For one, it is hard to have a hot cast and a heat flash and a husband who is always chilly in the same bedroom.
Another thing that isn’t nice is that the foot that isn’t broken has had to work so hard compensating that it has something wrong with it, now, too. Today the doctor gave me a shot in the “good” foot because it has gone so bad. My lower back has been extremely out of alignment, too, so the pain medicine that I take has been for stuff other than the broken foot. I am very thankful for my chiropractor these days.
I must confess that I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t take the cast off today. Two weeks ago, they had to change it because I had gotten it wet. I entertained the thought then that maybe they would put on the “removable” cast that they had promised me “when things were a little farther along.” After all, it had already been three weeks.
It turns out, I didn’t even ask They had no more than gotten that cast cut off than I was silently begging, “Please, please, please, just get it back on. Quickly!” I didn’t say anything, but the beads of sweat on my brow or the panic in my eyes must have betrayed me, because today the doctor said he knew that was how I was feeling. The cast went back on without discussion.
Today, I briefly considered doing a quick Dover shopping excursion, but decided that I maybe should just bring myself on home. I drove the thirty miles and made good use of my cell phone, planning food for yet another funeral. About the time I was coming into good old Milford, I had hung up my phone and was thinking about life and getting older and things that matter.
I was in the last residential district before the end of Canterbury Road when I saw an old, bald headed man on his mower by the left side of the road. I thought momentarily that he was a bit near the road, when I saw him raise his right arm and cheerily wave. His smile was broad, and he looked so happy. I looked over to the other side of the road, (to see what he was waving at) and there was another old man, on his mower as well. He was waving back as best he could around the big yellow dog that was riding on his lap. The dog sure looked like he was enjoying himself, though I’m not sure how the old man was able to see around him. It was a sight! It made me laugh and it made me all warm inside.
I thought about friendship then, and about how thankful I am for all the friends who have been cheering me on. I’ve had so many people who have gone out of their way to bless me. And I am so better off because of their prayers and friendship and helping hands. So much better off because of cheery waves that have come my way and the smiles that people give me inspite of the big yellow dog that insists on riding on my lap. Well, I guess it is a clumsy black cast that is on my leg, but it sure does get in my way. Sometimes I think I can hardly see around it. But my friends seem to know that I’m somewhere inside that cast, and they have helped me to keep perspective.
So thank-you, all of you! I am grateful for my precious friends! And maybe that removable cast can happen in another two weeks.
Thank you, all of you for a great string of birthday wishes. It was a wonderful, wonderful day. And I enjoyed all of the comments very, very much!
And Youngest Son is home on Fall break, and Our Girl with a Beautiful Heart is coming for the weekend.
And Eldest Son’s Ohio Heart throb is coming for the weekend, also. (If things continue, I shall have to find a proper name for her, too.)
If I had time to post, that would be nice but this will have to do.
Love to all!