Delaware Grammy

       So here comes Middle Daughter in the middle of a busy Saturday morning and exclaims the following:
       “Mom!  I can’t believe you!  You write all these things that you are thankful for and all these wonderful things and didn’t say a single thing about DAD.  You talk about your Mama, your brothers and sisters, son and daughter, but you never once mentioned that you are glad for the love of a good man!  That is just not right!”
        She is right.  It wasn’t right.  Because Certain Man has been the one who has lent his steadying hand and heart during these last few weeks.  He loved my Daddy as if he were his own, and he is grieving, too.  But he has never made me feel like the grief we share is unimportant or prolonged.  He loves my Mama, too, and encourages me to do all I can for her.  Her suffering is very real to him.
         He works so hard for us as a family, at his job, at this farm, in our home. 
         This week, he has spent hours and hours working on a drainage system for an especially troublesome spot in his chicken house lane.  He has access to the old blocks at Uncle Eli’s and he brings a load down here and crushes them with a sledge hammer and puts them into the low spot there.  He dug a pond behind the composter for the water to drain into, and he dug a ditch and put in drainage pipe to draw the water away from the veritable lake that was steadily growing in front of the small chicken house.  He has enjoyed seeing the success of his labor. And when they come to catch chickens next week, (Lord Willing) there will be a lot of other people happy, too!
         He has covered for me in the house when I needed to be gone with Mama and no one else was available.  This morning, he took the meat off the bones of two chickens that I cooked so I could make a big pot of Mama-style Chicken Corn Noodle Soup for the concession stand at the Basketball tournament that Youngest Daughter is in today. 
         He never complains when I sleep in on Saturday mornings and everything is behind all day.  He listens when I sob out my grief and holds me in my storms.  He tells me every single day that he loves me, and sometimes brings me flowers just because he knows the day is hard. 
         And so, Middle Daughter, (and the rest of the world, too) I am very grateful for the love of a good man.  It makes the rest of my life a whole lot easier.

        The days hold much of joy that defies description or explanation-
        The (sometimes) eight pair of cardinals at the feeder outside my sliding glass door.  Their splash of red against the gray never fails to brighten my day.
        An X-ray technician whose understanding heart was like a drink of water to a dry and thirsty soul.  Her own losses, so recent, made her quiet, and gentle and so, so careful of my grief.
        An office tech at the doctor’s office who chose not to give me a hassle, but open-heartedly and generously changed the orders without requiring another appointment.  And smiled.
        Clean, warm sheets on a bed that was cold and wet this morning.  Tucking Linda in with a prayer and a song, and seeing her settle in with a quiet contentment.
        Filing tax returns for my sons, and being able to tell them that there will be refunds for both of them.  Overcoming the obstacles that this aging computer threw my way, and completing the task before too late in the day.
        Picking up Youngest Daughter after a day of quizzing.  Listening to her happy talk, realizing that she is growing so fast, and seeing that gawky adolescent turn into a beautiful young woman.
        And the satisfying joy of relationships.  Good-natured exchanges with friends.  All the blessings that friendships bring.  I have been so blessed.
        For the love of my sisters, the love of my brothers, the love of my Mama.  I am especially glad that our Heavenly Father saw fit to spare our Mama’s life through those terribly challenging days last spring.  I thought, tonight, of how it would have been to lose both Daddy and Mama in this past year, and I fervently thanked God that He did not ask that of us.  It is hard to see our Mama’s pain, but it is comforting to have her here, weathering the storms with us, still being a Mama to us.  How very much we need her!
        And the steady joy of having a Heavenly Father who cares, who goes way beyond the ordinary to show His love for us.  He hears my complaints, He listens and counts my tears.  But He said that He INHABITS my praise.
        “And so, Lord Jesus, may you be pleased to inhabit the sacrifice of praise offered here to a God so deserving, so great, so infinitely wise and kind and loving.  May your Holy name be exalted in the earth, exalted in the lives of your people, exalted by our praise.  Lord, we lift your name on high!”

Out of my Bondage, sorrow and night, Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come.
Into Thy freedom, gladness and Light, Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of my sickness into Thy health, out of my want and into Thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into Thyself, Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of my shameful failure and loss, Jesus I come, Jesus, I come.
Into the glorious gain of Thy cross, Jesus I come to Thee.
Out of earth’s sorrows, into Thy balm, Out of life’s storms and into Thy calm.
Out of distress to jubilant psalm, Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of unrest and arrogant pride, Jesus I come, Jesus I come.
Into Thy blessed will to abide, Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of myself to dwell in Thy love, Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove, Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of the fear and dread of the tomb, Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come.
Into the joy and light of Thy home, Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of the depths of ruin untold, Into the peace of Thy sheltering fold.
Ever Thy glorious face to behold, Jesus I come to Thee.
                                          William T. Sleeper

The ham recipe is this: (Exactly what I got from Joye, by the way)

1 bone in ham (size is not important)
 
1 15.5oz can of pineapple chunks
 
1 2 liter rootbeer ( Mug or AW)
 
1 1/2 c brown sugar

Joye said: 
I put the ham in a large cooking pot.  Then  you dump
the rest of the ingredients into the pot and bring to
a rolling boil and turn it down to a little more then
a simmer.  Boil for 5-6 hours and take the ham out of
the juice and serve.  The  juice is good on the ham if
you like.  This ham doesn’t taste sweet and is so
good.  I hope you enjoy it.

And we really, really did!  It is so moist and it has a wonderful flavor.

The vegetables are from a very dear friend here in Delaware:

“Grandma Schultz’s Vegetables”
1 head cauliflower, cut into small pieces, put into saucepan with about an inch of water.  Bring to boil and boil three minutes.  Drain.
Scatter in the bottom of a buttered, glass 9×13 (or larger) pan.
1 head broccoli, cut into small pieces — follow above procedure.  Add to cauliflower, arranging evenly.
1 pound baby carrots — Same as above, but boil five minutes.
Add to pan, arranging evenly.
Melt 1 pound of Velveeta cheese with 1 can cream of mushroom soup.  (I add a fourth to half a cup of evaporated milk so it isn’t quite so thick. )  Stir until smooth.  Pour evenly over the vegetables.  Add a topping..  (You can top with Pepperidge farm crushed bread crumbs or with Durkee French Fried Onions. I have had it both ways, and my family actually prefers the french fried onions).  Bake for 30 minutes at 350, uncovered.

This is a very pretty dish, and my family really loves it.  Someone asked if they could use the frozen California vegetable mix, and I am sure that it would be fine.  I like it better made fresh, but there would be no reason, I am sure, why the other wouldn’t work just as well.
And I hope you all enjoy it!

Is it time for a report????
We came home to a wondrous smelling house, indeed.  And Certain Man carved the ham while I fried the sunday taters and the girls got the rest of the things on the table.  I had made what we call “Grandma Schultz’s Vegetables” to go with the fried potatoes and ham, and we also had an orange cottage cheese salad and deviled eggs.    The ham was everything that I had hoped.  So moist and it tasted good.  It seemed like the family really enjoyed it, and even Eldest Daughter caught some smidgens when she stopped here to pick up her mock ham that was baking in my oven.(Since my oven was not in use on this Sunday, she decided to bring something here to bake since her time bake is not working.)  (And no, her mock ham wasn’t the wondrous smell. Unfortunately, Certain Man’s Wife made a mistake when she had set the oven for her and had the oven to go off at 1:30 instead of 12:30.  Since the oven is programed by the stop time and how long the stuff is supposed to bake, it had barely started when we walked through the door from church.  We had to turn up the oven and pray that everything would get done in a timely fashion.  It did!!!)  When all was said and done, there was no room left for the apple pie that I had made last night.  Maybe by mid-afternoon someone will decide that it is time for dessert and it will still get eaten.  Right now, I’m too full (and too sleepy) to even write straight.  I think I will go take a nap.
         Thanks, Mamajoye for the recipe.  I love to try recipes if someone else will try them first, and then tell me how it turned out.  Pouring Mug root bear over ham with pineapple and brown sugar is something my fur brain would never have thought of in a million years.  But it really did turn out fine.  Thanks again~  Mary Ann

       Thank you all for praying for Lynn.  I just talked to Jessica, and SHE CAME HOME TODAY!!!  I can scarcely believe it, but I am so glad.  She even walked into her house on her own.  Jessica said that she did it slowly, but she did it.  How very thankful I am!
       My sweet Mama is in South Carolina with my sister-in-love, Frieda, for the birthday of great-grand baby, Juliana.  They left on Thursday, and plan to be home on Sunday night.  It sounds like Mama is having a pretty good time.  She says that it doesn’t take away the sadness, but at least it is a diversion of sorts. She and Daddy had never been down to Shana’s house, so there are no memories there of him.  The thing that is hard for her is coming back to the empty house.  It almost seems like the thought of coming home to the empty house makes it hard for her to go away.  And dreading it almost keeps her from being able to enjoy being away when we do stuff around here.  To be honest, I think that it is pretty normal to feel that way. 
        Doug and Shana live in a mountainous region.  Mama loves that kind of scenery.  Their house has a really nice view out the back, with a high deck over a ground level basement in the back.  When we were there, they had bird feeders and trees and grass to make the view so restful.  It has a wonderful wraparound porch that is screened in, and the setting is so pretty.  I hope that there is some healing there for the ragged edges of her soul.  Sometimes a change of scenery can do wonders.
       The weekend is here, and there is so much to plan for and do.  I have been wanting to try a recipe that I got from Joye Miller for ham that is cooked in root beer and pineapple.  Youngest Son says it is absolutely delightful.  Eldest Daughter thinks it sounds disgusting.  So, she won’t have to have any.  She and Beloved Son in Law have another dinner invitation for Sunday dinner, so I am going to make it then.  I will have to let you all know how it turns out.  Anyone want to come for lunch on Sunday???
        And now, Youngest Daughter just called and needs a ride home from the basketball game.  So, I’m off!!!  (“You’re off, alright,” says Eldest Daughter.)

Please pray for my friend, Lynn.
Courageous, beautiful, serene.
Smiley, joyful, realistic.
So different from me,
but we have the same Heavenly Father.
And both of our earthly Daddies
are recently home to Heaven.
So much alike, too.
We both love words and laughter and friends.
We both love our homes and our families.
I love Lem and Jess.
She loves Jess and Lem.
She prays for her daughter and my son.
I pray for my son and her daughter.

Today, Dear Friend, you face an incomprehensible challenge.
And my prayers can scarcely think of anything else
besides an operating room at Johns Hopkins,
And what is happening there.

Lord Jesus, in your Holy Name I pray
For an incredible anointing of power and healing.
Guide the hands and thoughts of those who are operating or assisting.
Hold Lynn’s family in the calm of your grace.
May your eye that sees the sparrows keep watchful care of Lynn.
May the evidence of YOU be so inescapable
That no one, NO ONE can ever say
that it was anything but you!

UPDATE!!!!
LYNN CAME OUT OF SURGERY
AT TWO O’CLOCK.
THE BRAIN TUMOR WAS BENIGN!!!
THE DOCTORS SAY
THEY GOT IT ALL!!!
HER FAMILY SAW HER.
SHE KNEW THEM AND WAS MOVING AND TALKING.
JESSICA SAID THAT SHE SEEMED REALLY, REALLY GOOD!

THIS IS A GOOD TIME
TO THANK GOD
FOR ALL HIS MERCIES TO US.

Happy Birthday, Beloved Son in law!

       I’m so glad for the Papa and Mama whose guidance and example and home and genetic contributions have made you who you are.  (Thanks, James and Karen!)
       I’m so glad for the love between you and Christina that brought you to our family.  It has been such a special gift.  We are so imperfect, often fail, and often don’t understand like we should (so unobservant!) but you have accepted us and shown respect even when we didn’t deserve it.  Thank you!
       Thanks for a wonderful evening.  It was a grand Birthday party, Christina!  It is nice to come to your house.

She did it again!  Made my Xanga page a thing of beauty!  Thanks, Christina.  I love it!

Christmas Eve, 2005

     Today has been challenging.  I took Linda for her GYN appointment.  There is something so wrong about holding down a blind, handicapped person so a doctor can do what must feel like such a violation to her.  She has a noise that she makes when any medical procedure is going on that she doesn’t like.  Ethel once said that it sounded like a wounded rabbit, and I haven’t been able to think of any other way to describe it.  I hate to be participant to any of it, but I also hate to abandon her in her hour of need.  And then she tested positive for hemo.  So now she is going to need a colonoscopy.  JOY of all JOYS.  Yes, well.
     I brought her home to load a dishwasher, and get her some lunch.  Then the two of us went out to Mama’s to take care of some bills and banking.  Daddy always balanced the checkbook for Mama.  I sat there and looked at his neat figures, and his distinct way of balancing the checkbook, and murmured against myself at my large numbers and my way of balancing a checkbook and felt inadequate against my mother’s loss.  Her tears were so close today, and I felt like I had been the perpetuator when I inadvertently brought some pictures that I had printed out for my brother and they got mixed in a stack that I had brought for her.  Clint had expressed an interest in a picture of Daddy and his brothers and I had another one that I thought was so good, so I printed them both and when Mama was leafing through Clint’s stack, she came unexpectedly upon them, and it was a jolt to an already fragile composure.  She is so small since her surgery last April, and since Daddy died, she isn’t eating enough.  I saw her standing by the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, and knew that nothing any of us could say or do would really make it better.  Even my pain beside hers looks so piddly. . . When I am there, I feel his absence so much more, and it makes me realize what she lives with all the time. 
      I talked to her today about how good it was that we had him so long.  And I told her that it is hard to believe that someone who was so “Alive” right up to the end could be so “dead.”  Now don’t go jumping to any quick responses here.  I know he is more alive than he has ever been.  I know that we shall see him again.  I know that what we put into the ground was only his shell.  So no one go telling me that I am not being spiritual or scriptural here.  I’m not talking about his spirit or eternal life.  The Daddy we knew, the body that we called “Daddy” and what embodied “Mark Yoder” to us — THAT body is dead.  We shall never know it again as we have known it.  That seems pretty final right now.  And you know what?  It’s hurting tonight.
      Anyhow, I needed to come home because Certain Man and I had an appointment with the accountant in Lewes.  We had a good time together, even with my subdued state, (we even used a Cracker Barrel gift certificate for supper!  That was cheap!)  When we got home, I came across this picture of two of my favoritest young men.  I thought about Christmas Eve, and how hard it was for us.  But, as this picture depicts, it was not all gloom and sorrow.  We had laughter and good memories and a sweet, sweet time together as a family.  Bitter sweet?  Yes, you really could say that.  But as every day passes, I am more and more aware that this is what life is all about.  The laughter and the tears, the grief and the grace, the living and the dying, all mixing together to make the fabric of what is human experience. 
      And I am so glad that the ONE who is weaving the fabric sees the “right” side and He has a pattern and plan.  I have often said that our lives are like a tapestry in the making.  We see this side — with its knots and skips and “stray” threads, and we often feel the needle!  But Someday, Some Glorious day, we are going to see the “other side” and it is all going to be beautiful.  And what’s more, it’s going to make sense! 
       What a Day that will be!