Actually Yes, PMS

Okay, so I admit that I was a little on the cranky side yesterday.

It didn't help that when I was trying to cook dinner--yes, I was actually COOKING dinner yesterday instead of opting to go out--granted it was just hot dogs, which I know gross a lot of people out. What with the whole chicken butts and goodness knows what else are shoved in there. But I don't care, I like hot dogs. Plus they're easy. And I was also heating up a can of Busch's baked beans. I have this really good recipe where I could make my own but it was stifling hot and I didn't want to turn on the oven.

Even though Tom was all, "Oh could you make your own baked beans? They're SO much better."

I said no.

He pouted. "Why not?"

"Number one, we don't have all the ingredients. Number two, it's hot. Number three, I don't wanna," I answered.

So he gave that up.

What was I saying?

Oh right, I was saying that when I was trying to cook dinner, Natalie started being extra clingy and started gripping onto my leg. She has a strong claw like grip--if I lifted my leg in the air and shook it, she'd still be hanging on. Not that I'd actually TRY to do that of course. But she was whiney and clingy and Tom was just playing his computer game, oblivious to it all.

This infuriates me. If I'm cooking, he should watch the children right?

But instead he was busy playing a golf computer game with Max curled up on his lap.

Ignoring Natalie is not an option. She only grows louder and her whines become more annoying with each passing second.

"Look," I told her as she gripped onto my leg. "I can't pick you up. If I pick you up you might get burned. See this? It's boiling water. It would give you a boo-boo."

Natalie didn't care. She looked up at me with her big blue eyes and let out a pathetic sound, complete with a puffed out lip.

"It's okay," I said out loud, making sure Tom could hear. "I don't need any help!"

And then he somehow took offense and marched into the kitchen. He bent down to retrieve Natalie while shooting me a dirty look. But Natalie would not let go.

"Come on," Tom said, his hands circling her waist.

Natalie's grasp remained around my leg. She started to whimper as Tom struggled to break her free.

"Come with Daddy," Tom tried again.

"WAHHHHHHHHHH!" went Natalie.

Tom eventually gathered her into her arms and she immediately reached out for me.

"I've got to cook," I explained, which means nothing to a fifteen-month-old.

She complained and fussed out in the living room but I managed to finish cooking.

Then we all sat around the table. I cut up a hot dog for Natalie in small pieces and wanted to clap when she actually put a few bites into her mouth.

When we finished eating Tom went back to his computer game.

"It's okay," I said outloud. "I'll take care of the dishes."

It bugs me because if I cook, he should clean.

Tom banged back into the kitchen. "What is your problem?" he demanded. "Are you PMSing or something?"

"Actually yes," I said cooly.

Tom was at a loss for words. Usually I jump down his throat for asking me something like that. Because it makes it seem like the only time a woman is allowed to be upset is when she's PMSing.

"Oh," Tom said, finding some words. "That explains it then. I'll take care of the dishes tonight," he promised.

Tonight. Tonight. He always puts everything OFF.

And I don't know how it happened, but after I put the children to bed Tom and I ended up sexing on the living room floor.

I got a cheerio stuck on my back.

Of course afterwards he annoyed me again because he was all, "I'm going to bed.."

Which isn't a big deal but he had to wake up at 11:30 to go for his PT test.

(His score was 81.5 which is passing.)

"Do you think you can sleep downstairs with the alarm clock so I'm not disturbed?" I asked him sweetly.

"No," he said, not sounding at all sorry that my sleep would be interupted.

I went to bed at 10. And I was disturbed when his alarm clock went off at 11:30.

It took me forever to get back to sleep.

Then when I finally DID get back to sleep I was disturbed again because he came back into the room to shower and then he was stumbling around, looking for some clothes. He kept opening and closing his dresser.

"STOP IT. Would you fu*king STOP IT?" I screeched when I couldn't take anymore or the banging.

"I can't find any clothes," came Tom's response. I could see the outline of his body, digging frantically through his dresser. "I'm going into the office to get some paperwork done. Ahh, here's some shorts. Sorry. I won't come back to bed until after you wake up for the morning."

Of course he was lying.

At four in the morning he came back into the room.

"You liar!" I screeched. "You said you wouldn't bug me again!"

"I got tired," was Tom's answer.

"Sleep on the COUCH. I'm up at 7 anyway," I reminded him.

"The couch isn't comfortable enough," he said, sliding underneath the covers.

I seriously wanted to smother him with my pillow. And then when reporters would ask me why I did it I'd say he kept distrupting my sleep and that I was PMSing. The women reporters would understand. The men would just describe me as a complete lunatic.

This morning wasn't much better. I woke up to the mess that Tom left from being up the night before. Clothes scattered all over the couch. Popcicle sticks littered all around the computer. Two half filled glasses sitting on the small stand by the couch.

Then at 11 I was about to make myself a sandwich for lunch. But I paused as I held the bread in my hands. Then I thought, "Well if he disturbed me all night I'm going to go disturb him. He's going to get me Wendys for lunch."

So I put the bread back and went up into the room. He was fast asleep, in the middle of the bed.

I opened and closed my dresser with a bang.

Ha. See how HE liked it.

He jumped and cracked open an eye. "Huh?"

"I'd like Wendys for lunch," I said calmly.

He closed his eye. "Mmmm," he responded and rolled over.

So I brought in the secret weapon, AKA Natalie. I placed her on the bed and she crawled over and tried to stick her finger in Tom's closed eye.

"AHHH!" Tom yelped.

"What IS that?" Natalie asked me.

"It's Daddy's eye. We mustn't poke it," I said. But my tone wasn't stern at all. It was light and airy.

Tom eventually woke up. I think when Natalie tried to bite his arm it joggled him awake.

We went to Wendys for lunch.

Then he went right back to bed.

I went to check the mail and frowned when I saw it was mainly bills. Plus a credit card company wanting me to use their credit card. Then the woman across the street came over and said hello to me. She moved from England awhile ago and Tom knew her husband over there. We chat politely from time to time but I'm unsure if we have much in common.

She was all, "I have a children's group on Wednesdays. You're welcome to come.."

That part sounded good.

But then she added, "It's a bible study group. We're currently reading *insert weird bible title here. Something about Martha or something or other. Was there even a Martha in the bible? Huh?* and you're welcome to join us."

Thing is, I'm not religious at all and I'd be completely lost on what everyone was talking about. Her group all goes to the same Christian church after all and I haven't set foot in a church since Tom's father passed away in 2002.

Of course I have religious friends but they don't shove their religion down my throat, which I appreciate. And I do believe in God but I just don't feel comfortable going to church. Maybe when I'm older. I don't know.

However, I was polite and thanked her but I didn't commit to anything.

Then when I was walking home a group of kids shouted out, "Hi Tommy's Mom!"

And I wanted to shout back, "Actually, my name is Amber, please call me Amber," but their parents could be the types that make them say Ma'am which gives me the heebie jeebies. I just ask Tommy to call parents Miss *insert their first name here.* Or last name, if he's in school of course. But no Sir or Ma'am because eeks, we're in the year 2008 not the early 1900s.

I better go vacuum. There's a moth carcass in the corner of the room and while I could gather it up in paper towels, I worry if I try to do so I'd hear the crunch of its body and freak out and drop pieces of it everywhere. Then I'd have to vacuum anyhow so I may as well skip the crunchy step and get on it..

The Thing Under My Eye

So this morning I called the base clinic to make an appointment for myself.

See, this small cyst has formed underneath my eye. It's been there for about a year. I didn't think much of it. I just ignored it, basically.

But when my Mom came to visit she freaked out.

"What's that underneath your eye, why haven't you had it checked out, what's that underneath your eye??"

I kept telling her I'd get to it, that I'd make an appointment.

But she visited two more times after the first freakout and she'd be all,

"What's that underneath your eye, why haven't you had it checked out, what's that underneath your eye??"

Then, because she calls every Sunday she'd always segue the conversation to the cyst.

"So. Have you had it checked out?"

"Er. No?"

*Cue motherly lecture on taking better care of myself here*

I joked with Tom that the cyst appeared after I pushed Natalie out. Because I pushed so hard a small mound appeared on my face.

So this morning I made an appointment.

"Actually," the woman on the other end told me, "there was a cancellation this morning. You can come in at 9:20."

The problem with that was, Tom was in training and couldn't watch the kids.

"I'd have to bring the kids in though," I said. "My husband is at training.."

The woman sighed. "Well. I'll just pretend I didn't hear that then. I mean the doctor prefers no children but it happens.."

So I said I'd take the appointment.

I wasn't really worried about Tommy. He can sit now that he's on medication. It was Natalie that worried me. She doesn't like to sit. And she grows offended if I dare ask her to stay put. She'll shake her head definately at me and then slide off the chair and wander off.

I called Tom next, hoping that perhaps he'd be able to watch the children.

When he answered I went,

"Hi, can you watch the children so I can go to an appointment?"

"Amber? Is that you?"

Is that ME? Who else would it BE?

"Um yes. I was able to get an appointment today for that cyst under my eye but they prefer no children. So do you think they'd let you off for an hour..??"

"Amber, we're about ready to head for the field to do some exercises. No," Tom said bluntly.

"And you can't even ask?"

"No." Tom's voice was stern.

I let out a long sigh. "Fine. Goodbye."

I didn't want the doctor to get annoyed with me for having to bring in the children.

So I figured if I dressed Natalie in an adorable outfit, that all annoyances would melt away and he'd just think, "Aww. Cute baby in a cute outfit."

Not that men get that sort of thing.

Actually, maybe they do. Because once I had Natalie all decked out and this guy went, "That's the cutest thing ever," gesturing to Natalie's outfit.

Which surprised me because Tom rarely notices clothes. I could walk out in a stained shirt and he wouldn't bat an eyelash. He'd just be all, "Ready to go?"

I put Natalie in this:



And no, she wasn't watching a cartoon. She was laughing at Matt Lauer. I always have The Today Show on in the mornings. Apparently Matt amuses her.

We headed off to the clinic and Tommy kept saying, "This appointment isn't for me. It's for you.."

"Yes Tommy. Just for me.."

"No shots?"

"No shots," I confirmed.

I checked in and we sat down in the waiting area. Natalie kept trying to escape.

Then we were called back and a nurse took my blood pressure.

It was only 91/61.

"Low blood pressure," the nurse muttered as she wrote something down.

Uh oh.

"Is that bad? Am I dying?" I blurted out.

Then I started to panic.

Oh my gosh, maybe the cyst is worse than I thought. Maybe it's sucking the life out of me! Oh my gosh!

"It's fine," the woman assured me.

It may have been because I was tired. Normally I was napping at that point, you see. I am not a morning person.

Plus, all I had to eat was a muffin and a few sips of water.

I was asked some questions. Then I was asked if there was a history of skin cancer in my family.

CANCER!

What if I had CANCER?

Was I DYING?

"No family history," I said, pretending I wasn't freaking out.

Oh my gosh, what if I were the first cancer-patient in the family and I DIED? How would Tom raise the children? Diapers freak him out and he once put Tommy in PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt as an outfit for the day. He'd be so confused. All he knows how to make is mac and cheese. My children would probably turn ORANGE from all the mac and cheese they'd be forced to consume. And what if he re-marries some scary woman who tries to ship my children off to Ethiopia for boarding school? She'll claim it's for their own good and my children would be forced to pee over a little hole in the ground and..

"Ma'am?"

The nurse was staring at me, looking concerned.

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. I really need to stop daydreaming. It tends to freak people out. Suddenly I go comatose, like the people in that movie Awake. They were once alert and then, *snap*, nothing.

"The doctor will be in shortly," the nurse said, gathering my chart.

She opened the door and peeked out.

"Actually," she said. "The doctor is in with another patient. It might be awhile."

Ugh.

It's ALWAYS awhile at military clinics. I'm almost always told that.

"Sorry, doctor is in with another patient, it might be awhile.."

I think I'd be surprised if they DIDN'T say that to me.

So I sat there in the chair, wringing my fingers in my lap, hoping that I wasn't going to die while my son prattled on about the skeleton that was set up in the corner of the room.

"There's the RIBS, Mommy," he said.

"Yup," I said, distracted.

And Natalie walked back and forth around the room.

Twenty minutes later, the doctor walked in.

Tommy grew shy and hid behind my leg and Natalie paused in her walking and stared up at him.

The doctor didn't even look surprised to see the children there. He said hello to both of them and apologized for keeping me waiting.

"It's okay," I said.

Then he took a look at my cyst.

"Yup, it's just a cyst," he said, squeezing at it.

"So not cancer?" I asked.

"Not cancer. A cyst. I could remove it but I think I'm going to refer you to dermatology. They'd do a better job since it's on the face," he said.

He sat down at his computer and typed some things into it. Then he said, "In about ten business days you'll get a letter from Tricare on how to make an appointment."

Because I have to go off base, you see.

And then that was it.

He was finished within ten minutes.

I think they'll have to freeze it off or something. Which makes me a tad nervous.

But I pushed two human beings from my crotch so it's no big deal.

Now I can tell my mother that I made an appointment for the cyst so she'll leave me alone. I'll be seeing her next month (we're all going to the beach in Texas) and now I won't be lectured.

Actually I will.

I'm still lectured about going to the dentist. I'm just too afraid. Mom is all, "Suck it up!"

But I panic, it's not an excuse, I seriously PANIC.

I need to find a dentist that accepts Tricare and will knock me out.

I'm also lectured on chewing my nails. If I do it when I'm around my Mom she'll calmly place a hand over mine and lower it down.

But she means well.

Also, she's taking me to The Melting Pot when I visit.

*Drools*

If you've never been, you should go. It's awesome.

It's just Mom and I because fondue creeps Tom out.

"It looks weird," he said with a wrinkle of his nose.

So he'll stay back with my dad and the children (because it's not a child friendly place..your table turns into burners and children can burn little fingers easily I imagine) and they'll order pizza.

I'm excited. The beach will be fun too. Though at first Mom was all, "Oh there is no internet at the condos," when I asked.

"NO INTERNET?" I shrieked.

I probably nearly rendered her deaf over the phone but I couldn't help it. She said no internet like it was nothing.

"Amber, honestly, you'll be with your family. Do you really need internet?" Mom questioned.

Well yes. Since we'll be there for a week it's pertinent that I get online.

"I mean I love my family," I assured her. "But I'd like to be able to get online.."

Then Mom checked the website and informed me that I could get online in the lobby.

Hurray.

Trash in Our Lives

My husband preached a sermon today about taking out the garbage. Now, I know that that is not a job most of us love to do. I know I don't. I hate taking out the trash. I hate the smell, I hate the weight of the bag, I hate the mess it makes...but still it is a job that has to be done. We continuously make trash.....but that was not exactly what his sermon was on. His sermon started with with a story told by Max Lucado about a tired, weary woman who was carrying around a bag of trash....and meeting other people carrying around trash as well....finally she meets a man....who tells her what is in the trash....regrets, shame, anger, ....all kinds of nasties. He then tells her to meet him at the dump on Friday to get rid of her trash.....she does....and there are many other people there....with trash to get rid of....each person dumps their trash on the man...and he cries out in agony....til they can see him no more.....no one leaves...they wait....finally....on Sunday....he appears again....clean, neat, and whole. Well, I don't know about you but I have never heard the crucifixion story told like that....and it bothered me....a lot. I wiped away a couple of renegade tears as I sat there and listened to the rest of the sermon...on the edge of my pew. If we don't unload our trash....it just gets heavier, smellier, nastier...and harder to handle....So Frank asked the congregation...."What is in your trash bag?" Well....if someone were to look inside mine...what would they find? I can assure you it is trash that I have been carrying around for years....and buried deep down in the bottom of my trash bag....is a box of special trash....it is the trash I have hidden away so no one can ever find it...and look at it. If they did...they would be ashamed of me....you see...it makes me ashamed of myself. In my life there have been many things I have said, felt, done....that I am not proud of....and over the years they have kept me from being the Christian I should be. Jeremiah 3:25 tells us that "We lie down in our shame-and our reproach covers us for we have sinned against the Lord our God."....yet I know I am not alone in this fact...Romans 3:23 tells me that "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God!" It does not say some, or a few, or Karen only....it says A-L-L!...so with that being said....I should, can, will, must....dump the trash I carry around on a daily basis. Philippians 4:6-7 tells me to "be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." ...Hello...that is a simple command to get rid of it!!!! Jesus died for my sins....all that trash I have carried around for so long....so why should he pay for nothing. I personally am going to get rid of my trash today! I am tired of carrying that stinking mess around. I hope you will choose to do the same thing. I will be praying that you let it go right now and follow me away from the landfill called Mt. Calvary. God Bless You This Week!

Extended family...or is it?

We are adding new members to our extended family in February and I am so excited. My cousin, best friend, singing partner, Amanda's children....both of them are going to have babies in February. Ramona is due Feb. 15th and Suzanna, David's wife, is due Feb. 20th. How cool is that! Cousins will be almost like siblings and that is my topic today, Amanda and her sisters. I am a very fortunate person to have the family I have. We are so close that I can't imagine a family not being like us. My brother died in 1963 at the age of almost 6. I was 9. It was a very sad moment in my life and I don't think I could have gotten through it if it had not been for my extended family. My aunt Shirley, my mom's sister, has four girls....their dad died the same year my brother did....so we just kind of adopted each other and became a big family. Terri is the oldest daughter and she is just a year younger than I am. Terri is a mega A personality but I adore her. She speaks her mind and takes charge. During my life as a child, teen and adult there have been many times that she has had to help me take charge of situations in my life. Terri is a great deal like my mom. Amanda is the next daughter and she is 2 years younger than me. We share a lot of common interests and sing together...and share just about everything with each other. She calls a spade a spade and has always been there to pick me up when I have fallen. I don't know if I could have gotten through my first marriage and my divorce without Amanda and her husband Randy. They opened their home up to me....and several others....it became a joke that they were running a home for wayward women there for a while. They are awesome. Linda is daughter number three...she is like me...more a type B personality. We really make wrong choices sometimes....but she is such a loving and dear soul that I cannot imagine my life without her in it. Melissa is the baby. She is ten years younger than I am....and I adored her as a child and teen....but love she and her husband Clay to death as an adult. The girls were always there when we would arrive in Alabama and always wanted me to go home with them to the Valley. Many nights of skating, dating, and doing a few other unmentionables filled my visits with wonderful memories. Amanda and I began playing guitars and writing music and having children about the same time....so we bonded quickly. We are traveling, singing, sharing, crazy acting adopted sisters. She fills my life with special moments and I am so very proud to be part of her life. She shines on stage and shines in life with her effervescent personality. When you meet her...you feel as if you have known her forever....and you want to be around her all the time. As a Still Magnolia she dominates the stage with her presence....and for that I am grateful....because believe it or not...I am the shy one of the group. I just want to sing....and Rebecca and Amanda sometimes have to make me talk....but Lord when I start talking....something takes over and I can't shut up.

Rambling over....now back to Ramona and David. When Ramona was born I thought there could be nothing anymore perfect on the earth. She was the most beautiful baby ever...and the first time she grasped my finger with her little baby hand....I was hooked....line and sinker. She was precious. Then came my own daughter, Kat....she was 2 years younger....and they were so much alike...and so different...it was like having two daughters....and then came David....he is 6 months younger than Kat....and he was all boy....from the start. He had a twinkle in his eye that was hard to resist....Years passed....they grew....made choices....went to school....and then one day David met this glorious creature named Suzanna. She was breathtaking. I knew the first time I met her...that she was David's life mate...even though they didn't. They married and are now at seminary in Louisville, KY. I miss quick access to them both. They are such fun...David is very musically oriented. He sings like an angel....and Suzanna....she is my crafting counterpart....I know that God has His hand in their marriage....just like I know His hand is in Brian and Kat's....it is just one of those prayers that was answered....and you know it! Ramona....met Dustin.....and He was Mr. Incredible! She referenced him to the cartoon character....Mr. Incredible...and the first time we met this remarkable young man....I knew she was right....and that he was her lifemate. I have never in my life met anyone like Dustin. He is funny, loving, and FSU fan....from Florida....he is smart...and a doll. I cried through their entire wedding out of shear joy that someone would love My Ramona like I wanted her to be loved. He is Amazing! Now the generations are continuing the cycle...and there will be babies in both households. I could not be more excited for Amanda and Randy....coming off of a very sad few years....this...this is what life is all about....Life Goes....and Life Goes On....We truly are part of a bigger plan...and My God is Amazing! I love you Dustin and Ramona and David and Suzanna....and of course...Randy and Amanda....let the baby showers begin!

Happy 4th of July

Webster's dictionary defines the word freedom like this:

Main Entry:
free·dom
Pronunciation:
\ˈfrē-dəm\
Function:
noun
Date:
before 12th century
1: the quality or state of being free: as a: the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action b: liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another : independence c: the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous d: ease, facility e: the quality of being frank, open, or outspoken f: improper familiarity g: boldness of conception or execution h: unrestricted use 2 a: a political right b: franchise, privilege
synonyms freedom, liberty, license mean the power or condition of acting without compulsion. freedom has a broad range of application from total absence of restraint to merely a sense of not being unduly hampered or frustrated . liberty suggests release from former restraint or compulsion . license implies freedom specially granted or conceded and may connote an abuse of freedom .

As I began to search the web for something about freedom....religious....national....just freedom in general I came across a devotional by Mike Pohlman who is an editor for Christianity.com and I had to share it with those of you who read my blog from time to time. The words were very powerful and I added a few of my own thoughts as well. His devotional is entitled:

Another Declaration of Independence: Freedom in Christ

by Mike Pohlman, Editor, Christianity.com

So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”John 8:31-32

Like millions of Americans this week, my mind is on the Fourth of July holiday and what it represents: our freedom as a nation. This freedom is a precious thing, bought with the sweat, toil and blood of countless Americans who initially fought to obtain it (Revolutionary War), as well as those who have fought to secure it in the centuries since that fateful day in 1776.

Gratitude without measure wells up in my heart when I consider the brave men and women of the American military who, this Fourth of July, will be fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to combat the tyranny of terrorism. These soldiers stand in the train of valiant warriors who fought in the Revolutionary War, Civil War, two World Wars, Korea, Vietnam and the first Gulf War. Each of these conflicts—while unique in themselves—shared the common goal of protecting American freedom. Today’s battles are no different.

But even as I prize my freedom as an American, I am moved to consider a greater freedom—my freedom in Christ. It is the freedom that comes with being a disciple of Jesus Christ. “If you abide in my word,” our Lord declares, “you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31-32).

This statement was shocking to Jesus’ audience. These proud men thought they already had all the freedom they needed by virtue of being “offspring of Abraham” (8:33). Jesus proceeds to point them beyond any national, social or religious freedom they might enjoy to the freedom that comes through His person and work: “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin … So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (8:34,36). Contrary to what Jesus’ listeners thought, they were in bondage to sin and subject to the tyranny of it.

Commenting on this passage of Scripture Leon Morris writes, “People do not always, or even usually, realize that they are in bondage. They tend to rest in some fancied position of privilege, national, social or religious. So these Jews, proud of their religion, did not even know their need to be free.”

Even as Christians we can fall prey to the temptation to trust in other things for our freedom from the tyranny of sin: status, money, good works, associations, etc. But the true disciple finds freedom in Christ and Christ alone.

What am I trusting in today?

The Fourth of July is a wonderful time to consider our freedom—as Americans and as Christians. Our national freedom is precious, but our freedom in Christ is of infinite worth.
The great hymn writer Charles Wesley was undoubtedly moved by his freedom in Christ when in 1738 he penned this stanza:

Long my imprisoned spirit lay, Fast bound in sin and nature’s night; Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

The saving truth that Jesus speaks of in John 8:32 brings ultimate freedom—freedom from sin and death and the devil; freedom from a life of futility and an eternity of wrath. It is freedom from the tyranny of hate and bitterness and cruelty. It is the freedom to love God and neighbor.
May this “Declaration of Independence” be on my lips and in my heart this Fourth of July holiday

Wishing you all a wonderful 4th of July. Spend time with your families, eat too much, and remember to thank God for this day. Our country was founded on Him, so He should be present in the celebrations.

Have a blessed day and thank you Mike Pohlman for giving me this insight today! God Bless You today and always!

The Other Geigers

Back in May, Memorial Day weekend to be exact, I took my parents on a long trip. We returned to West Palm Beach....a place that they lived for over 30 years and now don't even recognize. Nothing was the same....but the one memory I have from the trip is a very sad one. We arrived in West Palm on Saturday evening. The folks were staying with their friends the Geigers and I was going to spend a couple of days with my cousin Barry and his wife, Joyce. I left them with the Geigers with plans of returning the next evening for a big meal with old friends still left in Florida. I was excited. Sunday morning I got up and went to church....at a church that contained what used to be my church....but in a different building....in a different part of town. My old church is now a museum called the Harriet. There are zodiac characters where the once beautiful stained glass windows stood. Sad....After church I went to Publix to get the stuff to make a killer fruit salad...and we all got ready to go to dinner. It was fun...but my mom was acting weird....like she was scared. When we were alone on the couch after dinner she informed me that on Monday we would be going to see stuff....AND she wanted to see her other friends...."What other friends?" I asked...."You know" she replied, "the ones who used to live in the blue house...two doors down....who had the daughter who was my friend....the one named Carol." I tried to explain....that we were at those people's house....she did not agree....so the next morning Joyce and I picked them up and we went sightseeing....she kept mentioning those friends she wanted to see....during lunch...Joyce and I realized....she was talking about the YOUNG Geigers....not the ones she was staying with. No wonder she was scared. I had taken her to a strange place and left her with strangers. She had not seen the Geigers in over 25 years and did not have a clue who they were. My dad...he was cool...he knew them and was very content with his old buddy Harland. When we returned to the Geigers (the old ones)....we got out Mrs. Geiger's photo albums....and aged the Geigers for my mother....once we did....she was fine with where she was and who she was with.....Joyce and I wanted to cry on the way back to her place...how sad to lose that much information. It really put an ashy taste in my mouth for the rest of the trip and believe me....we were all ready to return to Alabama on Weds. morning. Return to the familiar. My parents enjoyed the trip....we probably won't make it again....and I learned a valuable lesson....things change and you cannot return to the past. Que Sera Sera! Happy Traveling to you all this summer!

An Only Child of Aging Parents

Today I was a little frustrated about being an only child. I was surfing the internet to find some information on caring for the elderly, dementia, and alzheimers when I cam across something far more valuable. There...in bold letters was a section called Beatitudes on Aging. I read each one and sat at my desk feeling very small and kind of sick at my stomach. I had just had a feeling of frustration for having to take my parents visiting tonight when I really wanted to just read....but....then I read the following words:
"Blessed are those who understand my faltering step and weakened hand.
Blessed are those who know that my ears today must strain to catch the things they say.
Blessed are those with a friendly smile who just stop by to visit a while.
Blessed are those who never say "You have already told that story twice today."
Blessed are those who make it known that I am loved, respected, and not alone.
Blessed are those who through love and care ease the days of my journey home in so many ways. " I felt very small after reading this. I like to think I am a patient person...and have become a much more patient person since my parents moved in with us three years ago....but the last few weeks have been rough. I know most of it is because I am not at work....I am off for the summer....so I have no where to run. My mother and father are both faltering more and more each day. They walk like elderly people. When did that happen? When did the vibrant parents I remember....grow old? I have to repeat most of what I say....at least twice...sometimes even more....especially for my father. His hearing aids sit in a jewelry box in the bedroom instead of his ear canals. I wish THEIR friends WOULD stop by and visit them....but during the course of the three years they have lived here....their friends seem to have forgotten them. That breaks my heart....people that they did so much for when they were active in their community...don't give them the time of day. My parents spent many afternoons....delivering tapes of their church services and visiting the shut ins....and now the tables have turned and no one brings them even a bulletin. They have not been to church in two years. These are parents who raised me in a Christian home....where we always went to church....I go....they stay at home....it is so sad. My mom says she does not feel up to going to church....my dad does not even know what day it is. My dad repeats himself a lot....I have decided to get a mike for my lap top and get him to start recording his stories....they will be gone when he is. My parents are so appreciative of anything....feeling needed, feeling loved, just getting up....and I know that when they are no longer with me....I will grieve deeply...being an only child is hard. My husband Frank is a saint. It is not easy to let someone come live with you....we were basically newlyweds when they moved in....yet, he just takes it in stride. Oh....he gets angry sometimes....so do I....but he is a loving man....when he told me I do....he never realized...how much that would involve. Some day I will be old too....and I have one daughter...what will become of me....of us. Kathryn and Amy will be in charge...better not make them mad....they will be the ones picking out our nursing homes. I want a nice one. Remember that girls!