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The days are running into each other, and there are so many things to think about.  I was glad that Polly posted on her Xanga what I had written to our extended families and friends about my Daddy’s homegoing.  (If you haven’t read that, and want to, just click on “PollythePatchworker” there in my “subscriptions” column.)  I am so thankful for the support, the prayers, the love and the comfort that have been offered by so many people.  I know that there will be plenty of days when I will not feel so surrounded, and there will be days that are hard — in fact this day seems to be getting off to a teary start.  But the memories of these days will help me through and I thank each of you for your gifts to me that have held me and my family steady.  Please pray for my Sweet Mama, especially.  The past two years have taken a toll physically and emotionally, and I know that these next two days will be so draining for her.  As much as I feel the loss of a wonderful Daddy, I cannot imagine what she must be feeling today. 

Last night, standing on the porch, talking to Mark Jr., he said, “I just miss my Daddy!”  It is simple, it is obvious, and it is seems like it ought to go without saying, but to hear and to say it is helpful to me.  And so I say it. . .  “I miss my daddy!”

Over three weeks ago, I wrote this:  (I was really feeling alone…can you tell???)

Waiting

Nobody really wants to hear

And no one wants to see my fear

Or get wet from a falling tear

Or get wet from a falling tear. . .

I’m waiting for the axe to fall

I’m waiting for the sad, sad call

To tell we’ve lost him after all

To tell we’ve lost him after all. . .

Oh, pain, walk softly on my heart

A sad, sad song begins to start

That says the time has come to part

That says the time has come to part. . .

I hoped this day would stay its hand

The hour glass would hold its sand

No summons yet from Heavenland–

No summons yet from Heavenland. . .

I think of Heaven’s brightest light

And that there will be no more night

And that what’s there is good and right–

And that what’s there is good and right. . .

I hold the hurt, the pain, the grief

wrapped in the warmth of my belief.

And know where there is sweet relief —

And know where there is sweet relief. . .

MARK B. YODER, Sr.

HOME FREE — Dec. 18, 2005

Oh, Daddy, how we shall miss you!

Well, in spite of the fact that there were absolutely  “SDRAWKCAB SYAD” this past week that seemed to run into each other going and coming, we got around, and when the evening was done last night, it was one of our best times ever.  We even had children choosing songs to sing, (and for the first time ever, we didn’t have one request for “Jingle Bells.)  Our Karen did a splendid job, and there was good participation.  I had incredible help from my daughters and husband, too, and some of the people brought food to round out the menu, and we had fun!  Today is “Write The Christmas Letter Or ELSE!!!” day, so I need to get to that. 

My Daddy is not doing so well again.  He had some really great days before coming down with some sort of infection that is defying treatment.  I was there to see them this morning, and he is breathing so fast.  I wonder if that is from the medicine that he is taking, or if I should be concerned about something else.  He says he doesn’t feel really bad, but keeps spiking temps up to 103.  The bad news is that when he was to the doctor yesterday, they discovered that there are now enlarged lymph nodes on the left side.  This is something new, and each thing, however minor, coupled with everything else makes for rather grim news.  I don’t like to think about it . . .   But —

“He is our peace, who has broken down every wall

He is our peace, He is our peace.

He is peace, who has broken down every wall.

He is our peace.  He is our peace.

Cast all your care on Him for He careth for you.

He is our peace, He is our peace.

Cast all your care on Him, for He careth for you.

He is our peace.  He is our peace.”    (I don’t know who wrote this praise song, but it is meaningful to me in this uncertain time)

I should be finishing the planning of my menu for Friday night, but I am bone weary, and it has been a stressful day.  I found myself crying in the car tonight when I went to pick up my girlie from quiz practice.  That is usually a sign that there is something really amiss somewhere.  I decided to consciously think of all the things that are bothering me, and that was enlightening, to say the least.  And I concluded that the sadness I feel is honest emotion, not something contrived or hormonal or even vicarious.  It is HERE.  It is MINE.  It needs to be thought about, grieved over, worked through, but it isn’t a nameless, vague, “I feel sad-ish” kind of thing. 

Lord Jesus,

When you see the things I cannot control

Make inroads on the things that I think I “need”

Or even just “want.”

When age and illness and distance and even my own wicked heart

Refuse all my attempts to bring them under my direction.

Remind me, even as you have tonight,

That control belongs to you.

It isn’t self control, or trying hard enough or air line tickets or medical science or vitamins

That will win the battles.

It’s You.  Despised and rejected of Men.

It’s You. A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.

It’s You.  Bearing our griefs and carrying our sorrows.

It’s You.  Wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities.

It’s You.  The chastisement of our peace upon you.

It’s You.  By your stripes we are healed.

You’ve already done it.  It has been long done.

Let my heart become another manger.

May you be pleased to dwell there in your Holy Glory.

How very much I need you.

For Gertrude. . .

The other day, I passed the place you always liked to go. 

 And I picked up the phone because I thought you’d want to know.

But I forgot you weren’t there.  I miss you all these days.

When I’m reminded of your smile and the funny things you’d say.

I miss you most at Christmas.  You were like a little kid.

You always loved a good surprise, and now I must admit

That I long more for Heaven, than I ever did before.

You give me one more reason, and each day I want it more. 

Knowing we can spend a lifetime, reminiscing on the past.

Knowing I will see your face again, where tender moments last.

It makes me want to go there, knowing I won’t be alone.

Knowing you’ll be there, makes it easy to go Home.                            

Guess what!  Not Going to Baltimore!!!  The real thanks comes from this NOT being so URGENT that we MUST go!  I am so thankful for the mercy of God in sparing my Mama’s life and allowing us to have her a little longer.  She makes every day a little brighter. 

Now, the possibilities of this day are diverse and exciting.  I am glad for a day to be at home.

I miss my Lemuel man-child. . .

What say, Delmarva?  Are we going to have snow???  Tomorrow is the day that I am supposed to go with Daddy and Mama over to Baltimore for a follow-up for Mama.  I do not relish the trip when there is snow and ice. . .  We may need to reschedule.

Daddy had wonderful news yesterday when we saw the doctor.  The lumps that were giving him extreme trouble had mostly shrunk to “insignificant” and the one that was larger than it should be was still smaller than it was before, which led them to delay any radiation for now, which makes all of us quite thankful, indeed.  He is feeling so good again, that it is easy to be hopeful.  (How can we help but hope???)  Thank God for HOPE!

The next weeks look full–but so exciting.  Next Friday night Daniel’s office comes for eating, singing carols, (with our own inimitable Karen Bontrager on the piano– she makes them sound so good that they actually sing their hearts out for her) and the reading of the Christmas story.  I love looking around at the faces of these people who share Daniel’s life every day and seeing the light of candles in their eyes, the hard, hard faces are often softened with wistfulness or even tears.  “Silent night, Holy Night. . . Christ the Savior is born. . .”  It will be the fifth year that some of these people have joined us.  Those with children always bring the kids (“It’s the one Christmas party that it is ‘safe’ to take kids to,” they say, as they scramble in out of the cold) and as a family, we have come to look forward to this event more than anyone who comes.  The many children run the train on Daniel’s Christmas village until I fear for its health, and there is noise and laughter and chatter.  Pray that the message of The Gospel, the true meaning of Christmas, will settle into the quiet places of their hearts and cause them to want to know the Prince of Peace.  How very much we all need HIM.

May that Peace guard our very hearts.

The week is getting off to a good start.  We are having “spiritual gifts” teaching this week at our church with Gary and Ruth Troyer from South Carolina.  Such good, good, teaching with practical instruction.  Last night he had some pertinent things to say to the Deacon.  Stuff he can certainly use to help him be more effective.  We were both encouraged (and corrected, too, I might add.)  Sometimes it is easy to “flounder around” to know how to best meet the needs of people.  And I cannot tell you how many times we’ve been given books or instructional material as how to do it “right.”   Anyhow–

I saw the doctor yesterday morning.  Have an order for x-rays to see why the big toe on my right foot is numb.  I had an intense, puzzling intermittent pain in in for a while, then an equally distracting “buzz” like an electric fence.  Buzz . . (four seconds) Buzz . . . (four seconds) Buzz . . . etc., etc., etc.,.  It didn’t bother me too much unless I sat down or at night.  Then it was really maddening.  About three months ago, the buzzing stopped, and the numbness set in.  When I talked to my orthopedic fellow, he thought that the original pain was from a sciatic nerve problem.  When I went back and asked about the numbness, he was concerned about a blood clot, but that didn’t seem to be the problem, so he suggested we “watch it” and see what happens.  Yesterday, Dr. Wilson took my foot and put pressure on my heel, and I nearly went through the ceiling.  My heel has given me trouble whenever I wear certain shoes, but he didn’t know that.  He thinks there is a bone spur on the heel, but maybe in my lower back, affecting the nerve.  Whatever.  So he wants an X-ray to see if there is one, and where.  He gave me a shot in my heel, and that wasn’t any fun, either, but it seems to be helping. 

I need to get moving on this day.  Linda has a dentist appointment in Seaford at 9:30.  No teeth, but she still has to have a check-up.  The last time they saw her, she had what they decided was a “Geographic tongue”  It looks terrible, and I originally thought that they must be burning it at center when they heated up her food.  But after all of that was ruled out, they decided that it was this other condition.  Well, it looks worse now than ever, and I suspect that we are in for a long haul of tests about whether she may have something else going on.  She has had two radical mastectomies, and there has been some indication that she doesn’t feel very good some of the time.  She has regular cancer check ups, and they have all been clear, but I am disquieted about this. 

Went to Salisbury with Daddy and Mama on Monday.  Good news for the most part, thank God!

Went to Lancaster with good friends on Tuesday.  Good times for the whole part.

Went to Dover with Mama on Wednesday.  Good being together, good lunch at Bob Evans. 

Had Bible Study on Thursday Morning.  Great chatty bunch of gals — great lesson on “Hope in the hopeless situations of our lives.”  Wonderful Babysitters — Ivy and Aubrey, wonderful little ones (with some shoving and tears.)

Fetched Lynne Lee from the car shop around noon and went to lunch at the Diner.  Good New England Clam Chowder, good Milford Side Salad, good conversation, some tears, some shared sorrow, some shared laughter.  Stopped by to see her Mother who is not feeling very well.  More good conversation. 

Worked on Calendar pages Friday morning for the Yutzy Family Calendar.  Almost done.  Haven’t begun to put the Yoder one together yet.  Sigh.  Love it when it’s done, but the process can be challenging.

Looking forward to the weekend.  How sweet life is!