Delaware Grammy

We pretty much froze everything last night, but what wonderful people were here to freeze with us!  Today we are digging out, washing tables and stacking them back in the garage, and putting away all the stuff we drug out yesterday.  Even Blind Linda seemed to enjoy being around the campfire.  That was surprising to me.  Yesterday her teaching aide from Easter Seals called and told me that she has been doing some crying in the last couple months.  They couldn’t figure out what made her so sad, but since they found out about Gertrude, they believe that she is grieving for her.  That made me pensive, but for five and a half years, they spent nearly every night in the same room.  Linda hears so well, that the noises of the presence of Gertrude, coupled with the fact that Gertrude loved her and was always kind, makes it a very real possibility.  H-m-m-m-m.  I will need to think on that.

Christy-girl, GREAT JOB on my page.  Thanks!  I surely do love you!

Eldest Daughter really does have Christmas on her brain.  Wow, Christy-girl!  These holly leaves and berries make my eyes go crossed!  Maybe we ought to tone it down a bit.  Anybody else have an opinion?  I do love it when I don’t have to read around the busy-ness. 

Well, I never got that rest the other day.  I was going to curl up with a book, but I had gotten some cider from Webb’s Market and I wanted to cook up the rest of the applesauce that has been residing in the refrigerator in the garage for several weeks.  Eldest Daughter and I had planned to do a bunch more, but we had been discouraged with the progress.  So we had put it back with the promise of “someday soon” and then got completely sidetracked.  So I thought that while I spent some time resting, I would just let it cook away.  Wrong.  While it cooked, I stirred and stirred and stirred and measured and calculated and stirred some more.  And finally, after it was time to go to prayer meeting, the last of it was in the jars.  42 pints, no less!  And I was quite tired, indeed.  But now that is done, and I am so glad, and I won’t be making apple butter for a very long time. 

Tonight we have a hot dog/marshmallow roast and a hay ride for the church.  Come on over, everyone is welcome.  6:00 in the back field.  Dress warm!  It is going to be cold.  Hot drinks, tableware, etc. will be provided, but you need to bring your own hot dogs and rolls and potluck picnic foods.  And whatever else you want to make this a fun evening.  Hope to see you there!

Had to have a root canal this morning.  I can think of few things I hate more, but now it is over, and I am home to my cozy house, and I think I just might do some sleeping.  Eldest Daughter and I had thought to do some shopping (If I felt good enough — I didn’t) so we came on home.  I did stop at Medding and Son’s Seafood place north of  Milford and bought a hot cup of wonderful cream of crab soup ($5.95)  When Eldest Daughter saw how wonderful it looked, I talked her into getting some, too.  Then I came on home, and now I want to just be puttering around doing nothing.  So I shall commence!

I’ve been working with Youngest Daughter to try to bring some order to her room.  It is so funny to find old notes, attempts at poetry, and pictures that she and Lupe would concoct in their endless hours together.  Tonight, this was the star of the creative discoveries:

“Matt and Raph are so tough/ Raph and Matt eat a very big Mac/ and that’s why they are fat/  So thank-you.”    

(I have to wonder what brought that on!)

Lupe spent the night on Saturday night.  She has been living with her sister in Rehoboth, taking care of her niece and nephew.  It was incredibly sweet to have her here for the night.  We never see her enough.

Today at Wal-mart, I stopped in front of the specialty meats and had a sharp stab of grief.  I looked at those packages of Rapa Scrapple and realized that there is no reason to buy it any more.  Since Gertrude loved it so much, I would try to keep it on hand for her, but Certain Man holds scrapple in great distain, and his offspringin’s have adopted his prejudice, so the only person who would eat it would be me — and Eldest Daughter if she happened to drop by. . . and that isn’t enough to warrant the purchase, so I walked away and left it there.  Probably couldn’t get it past the lump in my throat, so it is just as well.  Anyhow — to use the language of Certain Man — “Who wants to eat something that has everything in it that a pig has, but the squeal?”  Come on, Native Delawareans, tell him a thing or two.  His handicap is that he didn’t grow up in Lower Delaware, and he doesn’t know what’s good.  So there!

On Wednesday afternoon, in a sunny little cemetery, we laid Old Gertrude to rest. There were flowers, and songs at the grave, and there were memories shared. The service had been a great comfort to us, as people who cared about her and about us, shared so freely of their gifts to bless all who had come to remember. Once again, we thank all who so eagerly agreed to be a part of the service. It meant so much to us, and it touched the hearts of people there. My nurse from Stockley Center, a crusty, sometimes tough and always feisty gal said to me today, “Mary Ann, that was the nicest service I have EVER been to.” I was so thankful to our friends, but also to our Heavenly Father, because I had prayed specifically that it would be meaningful to the state workers that had come. On Wednesday evening, our church family planned a meal, and there was time given there for sharing memories about Old Gertrude, and that was incredibly healing for me. I looked around at the faces of the people who make up the church family, and read their notes of encouragement and sympathy, and it just was such a special thing that they did for us. I am also realizing how good it is to finally have some closure. It has been a stressful two weeks, and I am glad to be on this side of it. The following is an account of that service, and it pretty much happened just like it says here.
Celebration of Life
for
Gertrude Finnegan

November 2, 2005
11:00 AM
Chapel at Stockley Center

10:45 Prelude …………………………………. Karen Bontrager
11:00 Welcome ……………………………………… Brent Zook
11:02 Invocation ………………………………..Mark Yoder, Sr.
11:05 Congregational Singing ………………….. Jesse Bontrager
“Old Rugged Cross”
“Jesus Loves Me”
“Suppertime”
11:15 Reading of Scripture …………………………Deborah Yutzy
Psalm 23
11:20 Song ………………………………Mennonite Antrim Choir
“No Disappointment in Heaven”
11:25 Meditation ………………………….Pastor John Ivan Byler
11:40 Song ……………………………………J. David Hertzler
“It’s not Home”
11:45 Brief comments and Closing …………………..Daniel Yutzy
11:48 Song ……………………………………….Kirk Talley Serenaded by Angels”

11:50……………………… adjournment to the Stockley Cemetary

12:00 Graveside Services ………………………..c/o Funeral Home

The days have sorta’ blended into one another in the past five days.  Yesterday, the home health care organization came and removed Gertrude’s hospital bed that had remained here while she was at the nursing home.  All of her belongings from the nursing home were sitting around in boxes, and I knew that things really needed to be gone through. 

I gathered my wits about me and decided that if I didn’t get started, it wouldn’t get done, so Eldest Daughter and I hauled a table in and set it up where the bed had been, and got busy going through the pajamas, long johns, undershirts, blouses and sweatshirts and what she always called “dungarees” (whether they were beautiful dress slacks or sweats or jeans).  There were lots of sweaters (Gertrude was always cold) and there were lots of hair things like bows and ribbons and barrettes and clips (she was so proud of her hair that we had allowed to grow out the past couple of years).  Gertrude loved Christmas, and there were lots of christmasy ribbons and bells (She always wanted red bows and big jingle bells on her shoes from Thanksgiving to Christmas) and even Christmasy sweatshirts.  I held one in my hands and remembered how pleased she was when we bought it for her.  It had an angel picture on the front with a caption “…an angel among us!”  It was done in blues and yellows and pinks, and she thought she was really pretty when she wore it.

Sometime after Eldest Daughter left to have lunch with her husband, the tears started, and I cried more today than I have any day since she left us.  I don’t wish her back, I don’t want her back.  We had prayed for three months that God would either let her come home to us, or that He would take her home to Heaven.  The last few weeks were so full of suffering that I really do feel this incredible joy when I think about how it is for her.  Just think!  In one split second she went from pain and confusion and inconvenience and dependency to light and life and the very presence of Jesus.  I am sad.  We’ve already missed her so very much in these past three months.  But the joy far outweighs the sorrow.  I am so happy for her, and I am sure that God has a plan for us.  It is the most inspiring thing to think of her being in Heaven without any stigma or handicap to hold her back.  She really had the sweetest spirit, and I believe that she is now shining with an unbelievable Glory.

. . .But there in her room is her dolly and her wheel chair and her clothes that still smell like her.  Her warm flannel jammies and her sweaters and her nighties…We just miss her. There is such a big hole in our hearts.  “Bittersweet” is how Youngest Daughter so aptly put it.

You know, I had so hoped that I could be there when she slipped into Glory.  But on Friday, around noon, when Deborah was there, Gertrude was fading fast.  Deborah told her, “Gertie, Mom won’t be able to be in for a couple of days.  She and Dad are going to Ohio to see Lem for Parents weekend.  But Gertie, if they come for you, we want you to know that it is okay to go.  Heaven is waiting for you, and it will be so wonderful.  Just go ahead and go.”  That day, Deborah didn’t get any response from her the entire visit except when she said, “I love you, Gertie.  Do you love me?” and Gertrude, with her unseeing eyes nodded her head and made the sound that we have come to know as “yes.”  Deborah said to me, “You know, Mom, I had such a vivid impression of angels all around the bed, but they were not looking at Gertie, they were looking towards Heaven, awaiting the signal that said, ‘Bring her on home’.”  A little over twelve hours later, the call came, and she was in the presence of Jesus.  It gives me goose bumps every time I think about it.  How could this sadness not carry such an eternal weight of Glory?  These are precious, precious days.

Funeral arrangements are for a Celebration of Gertrude’s Life at 11:00 AM on Wednesday, November 1st, at the Chapel on the grounds of Stockley Center.  The undertaker will meet us at the grave site (again on grounds) at 12 noon.  The State has been very gracious to us in allowing us to plan and have the service.  It is healing for me to think about the music and the words and the possibilities for Kingdom impact that this service can contain.  Anyone is welcome to attend.  If you have questions or need directions, please call me.  (302-422-5952)

Serenaded by Angels

She went to sleep one night, Never here to awake again,

Serenaded by angels, Up to the throne,
Serenaded by angels, Finally at home,
Surrounded by praises, To the King,
Welcome to Paradise, The angels did sing.

Words & Music by Kirk Talley

Gertrude Finnegan

Home Free

October 22, 2005

I went to Millsboro this afternoon, armed with Baby Magic, baby powder, No-rinse Shampoo, toothpaste and two towels and two washcloths.  I never can find what I need when I am there and need to bathe or clean Gertrude up.  When I got there, she was propped up in her bed with her glasses on, clean, DRESSED, with her favorite movie playing on the DVD player.  I could not believe my eyes!

Last Sunday, when I went, I thought it would be my last visit. When I walked in she was lying cross-scissored, exposed and nearly comatose.  Her gown was soiled, and her sheets were tangled and the top sheet had food on it.   I got her straightened out in the bed, saw that it was getting late and that she needed mouth care and bathing.  I asked her if she knew who I was, and there was absolutely no response from her staring eyes.  So I bathed her, straightened chucks and bed sheets.  Got her into a clean gown and obtained a clean top sheet.  I tucked the sheet and her favorite blanket from home into the foot of the bed securely and brought the blankets up around her shoulders.  I brushed and flossed her teeth, and swabbed old food out of her mouth.  I brushed and braided her hair and then I held her and prayed for her and wept into that snowy white hair while I told her how blessed we have been to know and love her.  She never once gave any indication that she knew who I was or that I was there.  I was sure that I would never see her alive again.  This week, everytime I called, they said that she had no change.  She was pretty much unresponsive, just on “comfort measures” and not eating much, not drinking much.  Deborah was in on Thusday, and was able to get some response out of her, but she still wasn’t doing well.

But today, they tell me that she has some good days and that this is one of them.  She knew me — said “Mary Ann” when I asked her if she knew who I was.  Wanted me to do mouth care, didn’t want me to do anything to her hair, and tried to talk to me.  I chattered around there while I brushed and flossed her teeth, and she followed the conversation.  When I was leaving she reached out her hand to me and said what sounded like, “Tell Don I’m being good.”   When I repeated it back to her, she nodded and then tried hard to say something else about “Tell ya-ya-ya-ya-and ya-ya-ya-ya–”  I said, “Tell Stifflie (Deborah) Rachel and Christina to come see you?”  “Yes!!!” she said happily.  And that was how I left her.  She was watching a Christmas video from Bill Gaither, and she promised to eat her supper. 

Do you feel like hearing some feelings?  I feel so frozen.  Too many things that if I let myself think about will start an avalanche of tears that will not stop.  Gertrude is never far from my mind, but there are other things, too–

Tomorrow I go with Daddy to an oncology appointment that is of critical proportions.  Some things are not good.  I see the grief in Mama’s eyes and wish I could fix it. 

I miss Youngest Son.  I want him to be obedient to The Father, and I believe that God has called him, but I miss him.  I miss his friends crashing in and out of the house, and their chatter and laughter and appetites.

I am saddened by the violence against our school — not so much because of the damage that was done, but by the damage in the hearts that perpetuated it.  I keep thinking about the parents and siblings of these young men, and I weep for these families.  “Lord Jesus, where could we have helped?”

And then, on a really carnal side:  This week we learned that our farm is in the direct line of the proposed by-pass for 113.  In fact, where our house sits is to be the median between the north and south bound lanes.  If they choose any of the proposed plans that go west of Milford (and that is the probable route, given the farm land here and the expensive housing developments to the east), it will take our entire farm.  Our chicken house lane will be one of the exits or on-ramps for Route 36.  Yes, they will compensate.  Yes, they will be fair.  Yes, it isn’t going to be for a while.  But I don’t want to think about it.  We’ve been so happy here.  In my “Please, Lord Jesus, don’t let this happen,” I hear, “I’m but a stranger here — Heaven is my Home!” and I’m trying hard to think “eternal” in the middle of the “present” (but it isn’t too easy!).  Daniel laughs at me, and waxes eloquent in his ability to “leave it all” but that is not at all comforting.

There are some other things, too.  We all have them, and they are either too personal, or the right to share them isn’t ours, but they are still on our hearts.  Tonight I choose to remember that we are never out of the Father’s care.  He knows about Gertrude and Daddy and Lem and broken hearts and people that are too attached to earthly things.  He made us, and it comforts my heart to acknowlege that He LOVES us, He promised to never leave us, never forsake us.  And none of this surprises Him.  And probably He saw that “this world’s empty glory is costing me too dear” and is answering a life-prayer that He would help me to remember that what really matters is His eternal Kingdom.  That means that all of this is good for me.  I think.  And on that note, I am ending this too-long post.

It’s a rainy morning in Delaware.  I have always loved rainy days.  Since the terrible devastation from rain in these last six weeks, I almost feel guilty being so glad for these rainy days (but I still am!)  The good thing is that there is nowhere to go today.  And there is wonderful home stuff to do (like working on this computer room that can barely be walked through– how sad is that?) and finishing laundry from yesterday and working on this week’s Bible study lesson, and organizing the 1,000 ACE paces and score keys into their nice little boxes that I bought just for that purpose yesterday. 

Our chickens went out last night, and I overslept this morning.  It is hard to get moving this morning.  This house is playing Christmas Music.  Ah, wonderful Seasons!

Old Gertrude is still in Millsboro at the GreenValley Terrace.  Her nurse called me on Wednesday to tell me that things were not going so well.  She said that her family had decided against intervention and Gertrude was failing fast.  I wanted to go right away, but there were too many things that got into the way.

When Deborah was in yesterday afternoon, Gertrude was very out of it, and they said that she hadn’t eaten or drank for five days.  Deborah sat beside her and talked to her.  She came home with eyes red, and couldn’t relate her experiences without weeping. 

“Mom, she looked so bad, and I tried to get her to drink, but her eyes are fixed, and she really doesn’t respond.”  However, after Deborah left her, the nurses said that she rallied and drank some juice and ate some pudding.  After hearing Deborah’s account, I knew that I needed to get in there, so I went later in the evening.  She was a little bit more with it.  I sat on her bed and held her hand, rubbed her so cold arms and spoke words of love to her.  I started the Mennonite Choir CD and sang her the songs of faith. 

Before I started any music, I got up close to her fixed eyes and said, “Oh, Gertrude, can you hear the Angels singing?” 

She focused for a minute, then said clearly with a direct nod of her head, “Yes!” 

I said, “You do?  You hear the Angels singing?” 

“Yes!” she said again. 

“Oh, Gertrude, they are coming soon for you.  They are coming to take you home to heaven.”  Then she lapsed back into her quiet, semi-stupor.  As the evening wore on, the nurses and CNA were so busy and it was getting late.  So, I gave her a bath and got her ready for bed.  Her hair was full of tangles and food, so I brushed it out, and combed it smooth.  I braided it and pinned it up out of her way.  She was all pink and clean and orderly and smelled so sweet.  I told her then that I needed to go home to Lindaand the rest of the family, that I loved her and that I would be back   She was pensive, but agreeable. 

I asked the CNA how long she thought she could live with eating and drinking so little.  “Honey,” she said, ” some go real fast, but I’ve seen’em last for weeks like this.” 

And so we continue to wait.  Our prayer is that she could go home to heaven.  She loves Jesus, she’s counting on Heaven, and there is nothing to hold her here. . .

______________________________________

~ O, Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee;

I give thee back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean depths its flow 

May richer, fuller be.

~ O Light that follow’st all my way, I yield my flick’ring torch to Thee;

My heart restores its borrowed ray, That in Thy sunshine’s blaze its day

May brighter, fairer be.

~ O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to Thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain

That morn shall tearless be.

~ O, Cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to fly from Thee;

I lay in dust life’s glory dead, And from the ground there blossoms red,

Life that shall endless be.    ~Albert Lister Peace, 1884