Friday, July 31, 2009
Streams of Tears
I'm crying and my heart is in pain. Part of it is because of losing our beloved Igloo and the love of his life, Sadie, under such tragic and unexpected circumstances. But it's more than that. Once more it's the experience of a shattered dream. We have been through so much the last few years, especially. It has been very, very hard. We've experienced death, job loss, relocation, separation (due to the job - not by choice), surgeries, medical emergencies, waiting on pins and needles for word that would speak life or death, pain, loneliness, heartbreak, the whole gamut of stressful emotions. And the one who helped us keep our focus on life was Igloo.Never in our wildest dreams did we imagine a little white ball of fur would burrow so deep into our hearts and our lives. But he did - big time. He made us laugh all the time. He brought us such joy and was a constant form of happiness in our sometimes bleak world. That's why it is so hard now. Igloo would be the one to help me through this. Not that Oliver isn't, but he has to work and that leaves long periods of aloneness here at home. Everywhere I turn, I expect to see my Pigs. He was my confidante, my playmate, the one who watched over me like a mother hen, the one who gave me unconditional love and could nudge me out of the deepest pit of despair. But his nose is not here to do that and it hurts.We had dreams and felt like finally things were turning around for us. We have been blessed to get a beautiful home in a gorgeous setting, surrounded by people who are awesome that we have come to love very quickly. We wanted to spend the rest of our lives drinking homemade lemonade on our porch, with Igloo playing in the yard - chasing after all the things that catch puppies attentions. It is a safe place. We are on a dirt road, off a barely paved road, off a not too traveled road. Never in our wildest imaginations did we expect this to happen. None of us did or we would have done things differently. Oliver and I still have lifelong dreams that we want to see fulfilled. Oliver desperately wants a truck and it's almost a necessity down here. We've even gone looking, making sure there would be room for Igloo. We've looked at boats down at the marina and dreamt of one day having one, with Igloo of course at the front with the wind blowing through his fur and his tail wagging to beat the band. We wanted to see him play more with our grandson - to watch them both so full of hope and life. We both know we'll one day be fine. We've walked this route before - too many times. It's just one more shattered dream. Funny thing is that there is a book we've both read before called "Shattered Dreams" by Larry Crabb. Just a few days ago, before Igloo died, I dug it out to reread it. It's sitting here on the table in my office. The first one to read it was Oliver and in the middle of the book, he got a call that his best friend from childhood had passed away. He wanted to throw the book to the farthest county dump that he could find. The book dredges up feelings so that you can deal with them so he was already in a vulnerable position when the call came. Then it was my turn to read the book. It was an assignment for classes we were taking at the time. It was while reading the book that my grandson was born. That in itself was great news, although I was hoping to be there like we had planned. It turns out Eli just didn't want to wait. But then the call came. The phone, the object that brought me such joy hours before, became the thing I wanted to throw as far as I could. "Mom, there's something wrong with the baby." So began a journey of lifeflights and surgery at a few days old and PICU. I couldn't go because I was so sick at the time, so we sent Oliver down to be there for the kids. The day after Eli was born, I dropped Oliver off at the airport and went to my doctor's appointment. They didn't let me go home and admitted me to the hospital. In the meantime, Kim (our daughter-in-law) was still in the hospital because of complications in Crestview, Eli was lifeflighted to Gainesville, Florida to the specialists that deal with Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernias, Dan was torn between staying with his wife or driving the five hours away to be with his son. We were scared but the good news is that now Eli is doing great. Despite a rough start. At the time though, the emotions and feelings and what ifs were very hard to bear. But for whatever reason, God impressed upon my heart to dig that book out again this week. It's been four and half years since either of us has touched it, except to pack it for the move. So here it sits, staring me in the face as a reminder of the fragility of life and how we should never take any moment in time for granted. I can't bring myself to pick it up and read it again - yet. Partly because I'd want to fling it and you know my luck with windows and partly because I wouldn't be able to see the print through the stream of tears. Our lives have been peppered with shattered dreams. Sometimes we wonder how people can even make plans. It always amazes us when we overhear people making plans for vacations and stuff a year or more in advance. We have never had that luxury. Every time we have made plans, the winds of change have roared in to change them all around. That's not saying we haven't had happy times, we have. We have had a lot of heartache through the years, but we have also had a lot of laughter and fun. It may not have been the script we would have written but we have always made the best of it. So for me, it's not just losing a dog. It's about yet one more shattered dream. Igloo was my very heartbeat. When we got him, it was so that he could be my ears as I was losing my hearing, a job he has done quite well. It was so that he could be my companion as Oliver worked long hours or was called out of town for months at a time. It was so that I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning and a motivation to exercise - after all he had to play. It was so that I could take the love I have in my heart and direct towards a living being and have someone to spoil. He was all of that and so much more. And now he's gone. It's quiet here, almost unbearably. And in that stillness, it's like I'm reliving every death, every pain, every abandonment, every hurt, every offense, every sense of loss, every dream that's been smashed, all the suffering, once more. I'm tired, I've had enough. I have seen way too much death in my life and way too many things go wrong. That's why I'm hurting. Shattered dreams. We all have them. I know that somewhere there will be a blessing in all this but right now I just can't see it. All I feel is the pain. The sense of "no more". No more walks in the woods, no more running my hands through that soft, beautiful fur, no more looking into his eyes with nothing but love reflecting back, no more telling him to stop barking at the fly on the window, or to stop chewing his butt (don't ask), no more licks on the face or sniffing of the ears, no more watching him wait patiently for whatever it is that dad was making him, no more watching him lay there as we eat dinner anxiously hoping we'd drop some scrap for him to clean up, no more playing the chase game that he and I played all the time, no more watching him head down the dirt road with dad to go check out the back forty, no more dreams and visions of things to do with him in the future. No more. At least there's still Oliver and I. My health is not good. I'm battling this lung disease with all that I can but we're just not seeing progress and that leaves the prognosis very questionable. So that's one more shattered dream for me. I know that when the time comes, it will be hard on Oliver. In all my dreams, I expected Igloo to help him through, just like he has helped me every time I'm in pain. Igloo is good at it. And he won't be here. After Oliver's scare, we still worry about his health. He works too hard and he works too much. He's not a young man anymore and certainly not the Energizer bunny. He did not look good after coming in from digging Igloo and Sadie's grave with Jason. And it wasn't just grief. So we worry about each other. Igloo was the one that kept us focused on life. He was so young with so much more to give. It hurt us when we had to put our old dog, Bart, down. But we knew we were making the right decision for him. He was in pain and there was no more joy left in life for him. But with Igloo we had no say.Just guilt. The what ifs weighing heavy on our hearts. What if I hadn't run over his tie out last week and shredded it to pieces? What if I had gotten to the store to buy a new one? Then he would have been on it, especially since it rained and was muddy. Most certainly I would have done that. What if I had taken him out on his leash, like we always did when it rained? What if I wasn't in pain that day and thinking I wouldn't be able to hold him if I did? What if I had just waited ten more minutes for Oliver to come home and do it? And each what if brings more tears, pain and guilt. I know it was an accident. I know it wasn't some mean plan of God's to get me for something. But it still hurts and leaves this awful feeling like I've been punched in the gut. I finally ate dinner last night but today can't eat a thing. I sit here and listen to the quiet, which I know sounds weird, but that's what my world is turning into anyway. My hearing has gotten worse. The ear specialist would like to do surgery to see if he can help, but he's just not sure it will and I'm not sure I want to go through it. I'm getting used to not hearing very well and if the lung disease is going to kill me, what's the point? So forgive me if it takes me a little longer to get over this one. I am feeling very defeated. Just a week ago, we were thanking God once more for the blessings He has bestowed upon us recently. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but Him moving us here and blessing us so in that move, meant everything to us. And Igloo was a big part of that blessing. We still love our beautiful house, we love our new town and the surrounding area, we love our church and most of all we love the people that have welcomed us with open arms and love us back. We know we are still blessed. There is just this empty space now that Igloo had filled and it turns out to be a bigger chunk than either of us probably realized. We thank-God that we had the time with Igloo that we did, every single moment. We just wish there had been many, many more moments. Our hearts are heavy and for me, the streams of tears just will not stop. Thank-you for your prayers. Thank-you for your support. And thank-you for understanding if I tear up at the drop of a hat. I'm vulnerable and that's not an easy place for me to be. I know there are people in justifiably much more pain than I am right now and my heart and my prayers go out to them. The circle of life seems to be watered by the stream of tears. It's all part of the plan, I just don't understand it.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Ultimate Puppy Love
Tonight my heart weighs very heavy in my chest. The tears will not cease to flow and yet I know that I was blessed to witness the ultimate in puppy love. This afternoon, our beloved dog Igloo and the love of his life, our neighbors dog Sadie, were fatally wounded by either a truck or a car. They will both be greatly missed but the lesson they taught so many in the art of love will be remembered for a long time. Through the tears, I will try to share their story.
It started a few weeks before Christmas back in 2007. We had a new pet store open in town and there was a sale on fish. Oliver and I went into the store to look at the fish as a Christmas present for my sister. Smart marketing people that this particular pet store owners were, they had it arranged so that you had to walk through the puppy area to get to the fish area. It was there that our eyes first met. Usually I was able to just look at the puppies, see that they were cute and continue on my way. And for the most part, I was successful that night too. That is until we got to the cage that held the cutest little white fur ball that my eyes have ever seen. I took one look and as our eyes locked, this little guy winked at me. Oliver knew at that moment that we were going to be getting a dog. I was not so sure. I still was grieving over our dog Bart that we had to put down a couple of years earlier.
We did not get him that night. Instead, we left and went across the street to the new mall and watched the Christmas light production that they put to music. It was a perfect Christmastime night. The air was cold and there was a beautiful fluffy snow falling from the sky. People were milling around the mall and there was excitement in the air. We enjoyed it and just felt like our family was going to expand despite our best efforts to talk ourselves out of it. That night we picked out his name and the next day after church, we bit the bullet and went back and got him.
Since then Igloo has been my constant companion. Through all the times that Oliver was on the road, it was Igloo that kept me company. When Oliver got the job down here, it was Igloo that helped me hold it all together while I battled such uncertainty. It was 6 months before our house up in Bolingbrook sold and the beginning of a health nightmare for me. Through it all, it was Igloo that helped me to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. He gave me a reason to get up in the morning and face the day. After all, the boy needed to do his business and it was just he and I.
Finally we moved to Tennessee and believed that our dream had come true. The plan was that we would ride out the rest of our lives rocking on our porch, watching Igloo play in the yard. At least we got to see that dream come true, for a while. He loved to play and there were plenty of playmates for him here. There was the butterfly that would float by his nose, the mockingbirds that would swoop down and he'd chase back to the trees, the grasshoppers that kept him busy and most recently the lightening bugs that he couldn't quite figure out. And then there was Sadie.
Shortly after we moved in, Sadie and her family moved into the house down the road. At first they did the whole sniffing butts thing but soon decided that the other was a-okay. Each day they'd play and romp and just have a jolly good time. Somewhere along the line, Sadie stole Igloos heart as well. She even trumped a biscuit and for Igloo, that was a big thing. They became inseperable. Sadie even became accustomed to sleeping on the rug right outside our back door, with Igloo laying just on the inside of the door. They became sneaky cohorts too. Igloo would demand our attention so that Sadie could sneak into the house. Many times it was unnoticed by us until sometime later in the evening when we'd see a pillow on the couch move and upon closer inspection, would find Sadie curled up in a ball in the middle of a dream. Other times we'd be sitting there listening to the familiar crunch of Igloo munching on his dry food, only to hear a smaller crunch right after. Sure enough, Sadie would be hiding in the kitchen chomping on the food that Igloo brought to her, outside of our sight lines.
It really was sweet to watch but invariably we'd have to shoo Sadie back outside so that she could go home. Many nights we'd find that she'd sneak into the garage when we'd come home and we wouldn't find her until the next day. Igloo would never let on but he knew she was there. During many thunderstorms, Sadie would find refuge over here until the storm passed. The neighbors kept her outside in a kennel but my heart could not send her back into the storms to go home. The neighbors always knew where she was, there was never a doubt.
Being home all day, and facing some very difficult days, our little gift from God would bring such immense pleasure to my life. Oh he loved us both but he and I were very close. That is until Sadie came along. My little guy had fallen head over heals for this little dog no bigger than my shoe. Earlier this week I had taken some pictures of Igloo and just last night felt pressed to take pictures of Sadie. My sister fell in love with Sadie when she was here and I was taking the pictures for her. I just transferred them from my camera to the laptop. Two nights ago, the two lovebirds shared a very special dinner. We had gotten steaks through the Angel Food Ministries and Oliver cooked them off. I am not a steak eater, but usually Oliver would eat his and mine, maybe saving a small piece for Igloo. This particular night, Oliver, Star Chef to the dogs, decided to make them a whole steak. Yep, Pops was the best in their eyes. Him standing at the grill would bring these two running from wherever it was that they were playing just in the nick of time and Oliver never let them down. Usually it was just a small bite but this night was the doggy jackpot. We swore the two were smiling as they downed the last of the fine cuisine afforded them that evening. Yesterday their playtime was extremely limited because of the rain. Sadie spent the majority of her time over here because the neighbors worked. I never really minded because she was such a sweet dog.
So today I came home from running errands for a friend of mine. As I was driving, my mind wandered back to Bart, go ol' Bart, the gentle giant. A few years earler, we'd had to put him down. I was devastated then as well. I swore at that time that no other dog would find room in my heart again. I know - stupid move. Flash forward and we had the excitement of a puppy in the family.
Igloo was my little nursemaid. He's the one who made sure I'd taken the meds as I've needed to and wouldn't take no or an excuse for it. He'd coach me on my breathing treatments and Lord help me if I missed one.
When I got so incredibly ill during March, it was Igloo that never left my side. It was Igloo that chewed a hole in the wall out of worry when I had to go to the hospital. But as long as I behaved, he felt free to pursue his young love.Somehow they wandered out on the road about a block away, not quite sure exactly how. Neither had ever wandered that far before. I was on the phone talking to the old owner of the house about some things that still needed to be fixed and during that call, one of our church pastors beeped in to talk to Oliver but he left a message. While on the phone, I saw another neighbor come around the corner and head over this way. Now it's a big property and there could have been any one of many reasons for him to be over here, although it was an odd occurence for sure. I never heard Oliver leave or see the car go around the corner.
After the phone call I went out to tell Oliver about it and he wasn't in the living room. Hmm, where is he? On the way to the bedroom, I noticed the garage door open. As I opened the inside door to go see what he was doing outside, I saw him pull his car up behind mine and then back it into his spot. As I glanced at him, I could see he was in tears. I immediately went outside and yelled "don't tell me my dog is dead." With tears flowing down this big mans face and a broken voice, he told me "both dogs are." What? Sadie too? Oh my, the neighbors, and they have two little children. How will they handle it? Mercifully the kids are with the grandparents until the weekend, so that will give Jay and Amy time to process it all. I was howling and sobbing and totally uncontrollable. Oliver felt helpless and in pain himself.
Oliver had brought the dogs home in the trunk and I had to see them right away. Both of their bodies were still so warm and yet so lifeless. I tried to pray them to come back to life like Jesus had done with Lazarus. I prayed for the clock to be turned back just a few hours so that I could make a better choice about letting him out. I prayed for a miracle.
Oliver and Jay agreed to bury the dogs together and so in the highest humidity day we've had this year, with it raining off and on, Jay and Oliver proceeded to bury them in our back yard corner. They wouldn't have wanted it any other way.Amy and I realized early on that it was best that if they had to die, that it was together doing the thing they loved most, keeping each other company. It would have been far worse if only one had died, no matter which one it would have been.
Tomorrow the sun will rise, Oliver will go to work, and I'll have to fight to get out of bed. For tonight, it's tears and sobbing that have consumed my life. I have to be careful not to let it consume my life too much or my butt will be right back in Vanderbilt. So far I'm still breathing lightly, but ok. I'm consumed with the "what ifs" and feeling so very responsible for this happening. 'If only'... you know how it goes. I'm in extreme pain emotionally and now because of that, physically, but there is a peace knowing that those two walked off into eternity, paw in paw, with lightness in their steps, smiles on their faces and love sparks in their hearts. Together, at the same moment in time, in the same fateful spot, they met their ultimate destiny in puppy love.
Although my heart is heavy because of the loss of not only one, but two great friends, there is the occassional smile that crosses my face, knowing that I couldn't have written it any better if I'd have known how it all would end. I'm sure my tears will continue to flow for quite a while, I'm a very sensitive person to begin with, but I guess if it was their time to go, going together was the way it had to be - at least for them. Earlier today I thought of ol' Bart and actually cried at his memory. I do believe in hindsight it was God's way of telling me that everything will work out - somehow - and I choose to trust that. Thank-You Lord for the love that you allowed me to share with Igloo since he was a small pup and to witness the love he shared with Sadie as a lovesick teenager. And tonight a newborm baby is on his way into this family as our niece wades through her labor pains. The circle of life and God's perfect will. Where can you find better rest for your soul than that? Rest in peace, Igloo and Sadie, the love you shared was contagious and you brought people together because of it. You will be greatly missed but I wouldn't trade one moment of the love we all shared for anything else in this world. I love you Igloo and yes, I love you too Sadie. May your love continue in eternity. Happy Trails.
Igloo
Igloo
Sadie
It started a few weeks before Christmas back in 2007. We had a new pet store open in town and there was a sale on fish. Oliver and I went into the store to look at the fish as a Christmas present for my sister. Smart marketing people that this particular pet store owners were, they had it arranged so that you had to walk through the puppy area to get to the fish area. It was there that our eyes first met. Usually I was able to just look at the puppies, see that they were cute and continue on my way. And for the most part, I was successful that night too. That is until we got to the cage that held the cutest little white fur ball that my eyes have ever seen. I took one look and as our eyes locked, this little guy winked at me. Oliver knew at that moment that we were going to be getting a dog. I was not so sure. I still was grieving over our dog Bart that we had to put down a couple of years earlier.
We did not get him that night. Instead, we left and went across the street to the new mall and watched the Christmas light production that they put to music. It was a perfect Christmastime night. The air was cold and there was a beautiful fluffy snow falling from the sky. People were milling around the mall and there was excitement in the air. We enjoyed it and just felt like our family was going to expand despite our best efforts to talk ourselves out of it. That night we picked out his name and the next day after church, we bit the bullet and went back and got him.
Since then Igloo has been my constant companion. Through all the times that Oliver was on the road, it was Igloo that kept me company. When Oliver got the job down here, it was Igloo that helped me hold it all together while I battled such uncertainty. It was 6 months before our house up in Bolingbrook sold and the beginning of a health nightmare for me. Through it all, it was Igloo that helped me to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. He gave me a reason to get up in the morning and face the day. After all, the boy needed to do his business and it was just he and I.
Finally we moved to Tennessee and believed that our dream had come true. The plan was that we would ride out the rest of our lives rocking on our porch, watching Igloo play in the yard. At least we got to see that dream come true, for a while. He loved to play and there were plenty of playmates for him here. There was the butterfly that would float by his nose, the mockingbirds that would swoop down and he'd chase back to the trees, the grasshoppers that kept him busy and most recently the lightening bugs that he couldn't quite figure out. And then there was Sadie.
Shortly after we moved in, Sadie and her family moved into the house down the road. At first they did the whole sniffing butts thing but soon decided that the other was a-okay. Each day they'd play and romp and just have a jolly good time. Somewhere along the line, Sadie stole Igloos heart as well. She even trumped a biscuit and for Igloo, that was a big thing. They became inseperable. Sadie even became accustomed to sleeping on the rug right outside our back door, with Igloo laying just on the inside of the door. They became sneaky cohorts too. Igloo would demand our attention so that Sadie could sneak into the house. Many times it was unnoticed by us until sometime later in the evening when we'd see a pillow on the couch move and upon closer inspection, would find Sadie curled up in a ball in the middle of a dream. Other times we'd be sitting there listening to the familiar crunch of Igloo munching on his dry food, only to hear a smaller crunch right after. Sure enough, Sadie would be hiding in the kitchen chomping on the food that Igloo brought to her, outside of our sight lines.
It really was sweet to watch but invariably we'd have to shoo Sadie back outside so that she could go home. Many nights we'd find that she'd sneak into the garage when we'd come home and we wouldn't find her until the next day. Igloo would never let on but he knew she was there. During many thunderstorms, Sadie would find refuge over here until the storm passed. The neighbors kept her outside in a kennel but my heart could not send her back into the storms to go home. The neighbors always knew where she was, there was never a doubt.
Being home all day, and facing some very difficult days, our little gift from God would bring such immense pleasure to my life. Oh he loved us both but he and I were very close. That is until Sadie came along. My little guy had fallen head over heals for this little dog no bigger than my shoe. Earlier this week I had taken some pictures of Igloo and just last night felt pressed to take pictures of Sadie. My sister fell in love with Sadie when she was here and I was taking the pictures for her. I just transferred them from my camera to the laptop. Two nights ago, the two lovebirds shared a very special dinner. We had gotten steaks through the Angel Food Ministries and Oliver cooked them off. I am not a steak eater, but usually Oliver would eat his and mine, maybe saving a small piece for Igloo. This particular night, Oliver, Star Chef to the dogs, decided to make them a whole steak. Yep, Pops was the best in their eyes. Him standing at the grill would bring these two running from wherever it was that they were playing just in the nick of time and Oliver never let them down. Usually it was just a small bite but this night was the doggy jackpot. We swore the two were smiling as they downed the last of the fine cuisine afforded them that evening. Yesterday their playtime was extremely limited because of the rain. Sadie spent the majority of her time over here because the neighbors worked. I never really minded because she was such a sweet dog.
So today I came home from running errands for a friend of mine. As I was driving, my mind wandered back to Bart, go ol' Bart, the gentle giant. A few years earler, we'd had to put him down. I was devastated then as well. I swore at that time that no other dog would find room in my heart again. I know - stupid move. Flash forward and we had the excitement of a puppy in the family.
Igloo was my little nursemaid. He's the one who made sure I'd taken the meds as I've needed to and wouldn't take no or an excuse for it. He'd coach me on my breathing treatments and Lord help me if I missed one.
When I got so incredibly ill during March, it was Igloo that never left my side. It was Igloo that chewed a hole in the wall out of worry when I had to go to the hospital. But as long as I behaved, he felt free to pursue his young love.Somehow they wandered out on the road about a block away, not quite sure exactly how. Neither had ever wandered that far before. I was on the phone talking to the old owner of the house about some things that still needed to be fixed and during that call, one of our church pastors beeped in to talk to Oliver but he left a message. While on the phone, I saw another neighbor come around the corner and head over this way. Now it's a big property and there could have been any one of many reasons for him to be over here, although it was an odd occurence for sure. I never heard Oliver leave or see the car go around the corner.
After the phone call I went out to tell Oliver about it and he wasn't in the living room. Hmm, where is he? On the way to the bedroom, I noticed the garage door open. As I opened the inside door to go see what he was doing outside, I saw him pull his car up behind mine and then back it into his spot. As I glanced at him, I could see he was in tears. I immediately went outside and yelled "don't tell me my dog is dead." With tears flowing down this big mans face and a broken voice, he told me "both dogs are." What? Sadie too? Oh my, the neighbors, and they have two little children. How will they handle it? Mercifully the kids are with the grandparents until the weekend, so that will give Jay and Amy time to process it all. I was howling and sobbing and totally uncontrollable. Oliver felt helpless and in pain himself.
Oliver had brought the dogs home in the trunk and I had to see them right away. Both of their bodies were still so warm and yet so lifeless. I tried to pray them to come back to life like Jesus had done with Lazarus. I prayed for the clock to be turned back just a few hours so that I could make a better choice about letting him out. I prayed for a miracle.
Oliver and Jay agreed to bury the dogs together and so in the highest humidity day we've had this year, with it raining off and on, Jay and Oliver proceeded to bury them in our back yard corner. They wouldn't have wanted it any other way.Amy and I realized early on that it was best that if they had to die, that it was together doing the thing they loved most, keeping each other company. It would have been far worse if only one had died, no matter which one it would have been.
Tomorrow the sun will rise, Oliver will go to work, and I'll have to fight to get out of bed. For tonight, it's tears and sobbing that have consumed my life. I have to be careful not to let it consume my life too much or my butt will be right back in Vanderbilt. So far I'm still breathing lightly, but ok. I'm consumed with the "what ifs" and feeling so very responsible for this happening. 'If only'... you know how it goes. I'm in extreme pain emotionally and now because of that, physically, but there is a peace knowing that those two walked off into eternity, paw in paw, with lightness in their steps, smiles on their faces and love sparks in their hearts. Together, at the same moment in time, in the same fateful spot, they met their ultimate destiny in puppy love.
Although my heart is heavy because of the loss of not only one, but two great friends, there is the occassional smile that crosses my face, knowing that I couldn't have written it any better if I'd have known how it all would end. I'm sure my tears will continue to flow for quite a while, I'm a very sensitive person to begin with, but I guess if it was their time to go, going together was the way it had to be - at least for them. Earlier today I thought of ol' Bart and actually cried at his memory. I do believe in hindsight it was God's way of telling me that everything will work out - somehow - and I choose to trust that. Thank-You Lord for the love that you allowed me to share with Igloo since he was a small pup and to witness the love he shared with Sadie as a lovesick teenager. And tonight a newborm baby is on his way into this family as our niece wades through her labor pains. The circle of life and God's perfect will. Where can you find better rest for your soul than that? Rest in peace, Igloo and Sadie, the love you shared was contagious and you brought people together because of it. You will be greatly missed but I wouldn't trade one moment of the love we all shared for anything else in this world. I love you Igloo and yes, I love you too Sadie. May your love continue in eternity. Happy Trails.
Igloo
Igloo
Sadie
Friday, July 10, 2009
Gray Areas
Today was an interesting day. Oliver had to drive to another prison to pick up some dehydrated potatos and since our house is the halfway point between the two, he stopped in for a quick bathroom break. I thought it would be nice to take the trip out there with him since he had to come right back by home on his way back to work. It really is a beautiful ride and it was a beautiful day. We made the trip out there and as we were heading down the small road leading to the prison, I noticed a big bus gaining ground on us in the rearview mirror. Turns out it was a Tennessee Department of Corrections bus filled with prisoners. We arrived at the gate with the bus hot on our tails. Oliver told the guard why we were there and the guard said he had to process the bus first and we had to move over to another parking lot to wait while that was being done for security reasons. Protocol. How long can it take to empty a bus? That was the million dollar question today.
So there we were in the heat just watching the events unfold as to how much goes into checking inmates into a prison. It is not an easy task. As we watched, we were both able to get lost in our own thoughts. Oliver is used to the "prison life" having worked in that environment for years. It still gives me the willies. But I was a captive audience and I'm a pretty quick learner. I learned that the different colored clothes that they wear actually mean something and have to do with the seriousness of their crime. At first I wanted to just sit there and shake my head and wonder what stupid choices they had made that landed them there. Wrong thought. God got a hold of that one real quick and as I looked at these seemingly normal men, I have to admit that it was increasingly hard to tell who were the bad guys and who were the good guys. Some of the officers looked rougher than some of the inmates.
There probably are some of them that chose to be there. Perhaps they were men down on their luck, with no bed, food or clothes and the prospect of prison sounded better than their chances out on the street. Perhaps they did something foolish to get caught so that they could have a clean bed and warm food. Some of them looked like this was the first clean, white, t-shirt that they have ever worn in their lives. Are they bad people, as we're led to believe, or men who made bad choices, or men whose life circumstances have come to dictate where they are. Are they really much different than me? When I was younger, things were much clearer. Life was in black in white. Right or wrong. Good guys and bad guys. No one questioned which group the Lone Ranger fell in. These days the lines are not so clear. A few weeks ago, one of the correction officers was arrested for smuggling contraband into one of the jails. He was supposed to be a good guy. That same day an inmate saved the life of another by responding to an emergency in an appropriate way. Not so black and white anymore.
Today I sat there and as I watched from outside the "yard" that had several layers of barbed wire that was razor sharp and two tall fences to boot, I had to really look at the men on the other side. Oh some were being tough guys, no doubt, but the majority were just sitting there waiting, much like I was sitting there waiting on the potatos. Just passing time in a life that none of us really belong to. A butterfly came and perched on my arm just long enough to let me see the beautiful colors that it was adorned with before fluttering to the other side of the fence. She didn't need to go over there, she just did because she could. Those razor sharp barbed wire fences did nothing to stop her from her destined flight. She fluttered around, darting from one side of the fence to another. I had to chuckle as I recalled the verse that says, Joh 8:36 - So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. That butterfly can come and go as it pleases because of the freedom she has been given from above.
At first I felt that the prisoners probably deserved to be there but as the time waiting went by, I started to think a little bit differently. What if they were victims of their circumstances and knew no way out? What if they just made an instantaneous poor choice and got caught. I know my actions haven't always been squeaky clean and very easily could have landed me there as well. Not that I did anything intentionally but merely inadvertantly. What if they were innocent victims themselves? It does happen.
As I looked through the fences and watched them go about their business in the yard, I really began to see that we had more in common than we really had seperately. They may be locked behind walls of man's making that consist of brick and mortar, fences of steel and armed guards, but am I not locked up in a body that fails me, with issues standing sentinel to keep me in tow and people standing at the ready to show me my place and keep me there? Is my prison much different that the one that my eyes saw today? It made me think that we all are in prisons of some sort and without the grace of God, we could be stuck there for the rest of our lives. I got to drive away from the physical prison building after collecting the potatos and head home, but the prison that I live in just rode along in the car with me. The bindings that hold me down are no less strong than the shackles that bound the prisoners, just more socially acceptable.
Tonight I'll pray for the inmates and hope that God reaches them through the quiet of the night and gets a hold on their hearts. Once that happens, it doesn't matter what side of the prison door you are on, the enemy has no jurisdiction in your life anymore. And while I'm at it, I'll pray for those of us who are stuck in a prison of our own, unable to break the hold it has over our lives. I want to live as the butterfly. Free to come and go as I please with nothing but God's awesomeness reflected in my wings
So there we were in the heat just watching the events unfold as to how much goes into checking inmates into a prison. It is not an easy task. As we watched, we were both able to get lost in our own thoughts. Oliver is used to the "prison life" having worked in that environment for years. It still gives me the willies. But I was a captive audience and I'm a pretty quick learner. I learned that the different colored clothes that they wear actually mean something and have to do with the seriousness of their crime. At first I wanted to just sit there and shake my head and wonder what stupid choices they had made that landed them there. Wrong thought. God got a hold of that one real quick and as I looked at these seemingly normal men, I have to admit that it was increasingly hard to tell who were the bad guys and who were the good guys. Some of the officers looked rougher than some of the inmates.
There probably are some of them that chose to be there. Perhaps they were men down on their luck, with no bed, food or clothes and the prospect of prison sounded better than their chances out on the street. Perhaps they did something foolish to get caught so that they could have a clean bed and warm food. Some of them looked like this was the first clean, white, t-shirt that they have ever worn in their lives. Are they bad people, as we're led to believe, or men who made bad choices, or men whose life circumstances have come to dictate where they are. Are they really much different than me? When I was younger, things were much clearer. Life was in black in white. Right or wrong. Good guys and bad guys. No one questioned which group the Lone Ranger fell in. These days the lines are not so clear. A few weeks ago, one of the correction officers was arrested for smuggling contraband into one of the jails. He was supposed to be a good guy. That same day an inmate saved the life of another by responding to an emergency in an appropriate way. Not so black and white anymore.
Today I sat there and as I watched from outside the "yard" that had several layers of barbed wire that was razor sharp and two tall fences to boot, I had to really look at the men on the other side. Oh some were being tough guys, no doubt, but the majority were just sitting there waiting, much like I was sitting there waiting on the potatos. Just passing time in a life that none of us really belong to. A butterfly came and perched on my arm just long enough to let me see the beautiful colors that it was adorned with before fluttering to the other side of the fence. She didn't need to go over there, she just did because she could. Those razor sharp barbed wire fences did nothing to stop her from her destined flight. She fluttered around, darting from one side of the fence to another. I had to chuckle as I recalled the verse that says, Joh 8:36 - So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. That butterfly can come and go as it pleases because of the freedom she has been given from above.
At first I felt that the prisoners probably deserved to be there but as the time waiting went by, I started to think a little bit differently. What if they were victims of their circumstances and knew no way out? What if they just made an instantaneous poor choice and got caught. I know my actions haven't always been squeaky clean and very easily could have landed me there as well. Not that I did anything intentionally but merely inadvertantly. What if they were innocent victims themselves? It does happen.
As I looked through the fences and watched them go about their business in the yard, I really began to see that we had more in common than we really had seperately. They may be locked behind walls of man's making that consist of brick and mortar, fences of steel and armed guards, but am I not locked up in a body that fails me, with issues standing sentinel to keep me in tow and people standing at the ready to show me my place and keep me there? Is my prison much different that the one that my eyes saw today? It made me think that we all are in prisons of some sort and without the grace of God, we could be stuck there for the rest of our lives. I got to drive away from the physical prison building after collecting the potatos and head home, but the prison that I live in just rode along in the car with me. The bindings that hold me down are no less strong than the shackles that bound the prisoners, just more socially acceptable.
Tonight I'll pray for the inmates and hope that God reaches them through the quiet of the night and gets a hold on their hearts. Once that happens, it doesn't matter what side of the prison door you are on, the enemy has no jurisdiction in your life anymore. And while I'm at it, I'll pray for those of us who are stuck in a prison of our own, unable to break the hold it has over our lives. I want to live as the butterfly. Free to come and go as I please with nothing but God's awesomeness reflected in my wings
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Who would have thought?
30 years... a long time by any standard of measure but still seems like it has flown by in the blink of an eye. On that day, July 8, 1979, we met at the altar and had a priest, named Father Brian, declare us husband and wife. Oliver was the Catholic one and I went along because it was important to him at the time. I was doing fine until the Holy water was sprinkled on my head and decided to use the part in my hair as a trough straight to my nose, where it tickled and yes, I giggled. All of our guests thought I was caught up in the emotion of the day and crying, but no, I was giggling. Oliver was holding my hands as he was told to do in the rehearsal so I couldn't even scratch my nose. So there we were taking the vows that at the time were just words to say, with me giggling and in a form of water torture. Kinda became the setpoint of our lives. Even through the most serious of times, we have always managed to find time to giggle. It's part of who we are.
Who would have thought than when we stood there and said the words "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health," that we'd be put to the test on each word through the course of the years and still make it through? Certainly not us and certainly none of our friends. They all took bets that day and the longest odds we had were five years. To those friends we say - Gotcha! We win! Too bad most of those people we are no longer in contact with or we'd be collecting and buying that new pickup truck Oliver would love to have.I remember the trip on the way to the church. Oliver had been sweet enough to hire a limo to take my maid-of-honor, Pam, and I to the church so that we didn't have to cram into either of our small Datsun B-210's dressed in our full regalia. It was a quiet ride filled with thoughts. At one point before we made the turn to head north towards the church, I asked the driver to just take us to the airport. Cold feet were setting in and what I really wanted was to soak my toes in the nice, warm Jamaican sand. I had the honeymoon tickets in my purse. I even offered a bribe to the driver, but Oliver in his infinite wisdom (so he thought) had paid her very well to make sure I was delivered to the church safe and sound. Sigh.
Here we are 30 years later. We certainly have been through some rough times and we certainly have had a bunch of good times. We have been richer with dreams and hopes and we certainly have been poorer, down to just us living in the car. We've been blessed with healthy days and we both have had our share of caring for the other in sickness. For our 25th anniversary, it was wondering if Oliver was going to make it through the cancer scare that he had. Wondering if he'd make it until we reached the 26th. Now it's me, stuck with an incurable lung disease that has no known cause and no cure. I'm on meds that make me sick on the low doses I'm on and if by some chance I was to qualify or be able to afford a lung transplant, I would have to take these in much stronger doses. Not sure that's an option anyway. So now it's wondering if I'll make it to see the 31st, but still shooting for 50th. We'd like to at least beat the odds we were given on our wedding day by 10 times... today we reached 6 times. If you want more specific numbers, talk to Oliver... he has it calculated down to the minute, I'm sure.
We look at life differently now. No longer reaching for the golden ring but just enjoying the quiet, small things in life. Just having the other in the room and knowing that their steady breathing is still a testament to the heartbeat of life. We still love to laugh and Oliver still hates to see me cry. Our lives have always been about choices and most times we've felt we've made the right ones. Perhaps not to the eyes of the world, but to us. Would we do it all again? You betcha! Even knowing what we know now but with only one change... we would enjoy each and every moment and cherish it like it was our last because that is the main lesson we have learned through all these years. You never know what tomorrow brings. Sometimes I think back to that day and wonder how different my life would have been if that driver had taken me to the airport and I had gotten on that plane with just Pam. Some could say that the choice was made for me by Oliver hiring the limo and making sure it had locking doors that could not be opened by me in the back, but in actuality I would have still made the trek to the church where all my friends and most of my family were gathered to watch us get hitched. After all, I had done the wedding planning and we had one awesome reception planned. I didn't want to miss the party.
Oh, he had his cold feet moments too. The best man, his brother Bob, and a few of our friends were well trained in making sure he didn't wander too far from the altar. They all descended on him when he allegedly tried to go outside for a breath of fresh air. He wasn't going to be able to go any farther. We have made this journey together, one day at a time.
We've been battered and bruised but we've made it through many a storm. Our ship might be a little rougher for the wear but it's still holding tight, ready to sail the stormy seas that are ahead. We'll hit high waves and calm waters, taking turns at the helm, until the river of our lives runs dry. We know the day will come when one of us will have to carry on for awhile without the other to navigate but we know that the experience we've shared along the way will carry us through until the day the boat is docked for good and we meet again in the land called Heaven.
Today though, is a day of celebration for 30 years of marriage... who would have thought?
Who would have thought than when we stood there and said the words "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health," that we'd be put to the test on each word through the course of the years and still make it through? Certainly not us and certainly none of our friends. They all took bets that day and the longest odds we had were five years. To those friends we say - Gotcha! We win! Too bad most of those people we are no longer in contact with or we'd be collecting and buying that new pickup truck Oliver would love to have.I remember the trip on the way to the church. Oliver had been sweet enough to hire a limo to take my maid-of-honor, Pam, and I to the church so that we didn't have to cram into either of our small Datsun B-210's dressed in our full regalia. It was a quiet ride filled with thoughts. At one point before we made the turn to head north towards the church, I asked the driver to just take us to the airport. Cold feet were setting in and what I really wanted was to soak my toes in the nice, warm Jamaican sand. I had the honeymoon tickets in my purse. I even offered a bribe to the driver, but Oliver in his infinite wisdom (so he thought) had paid her very well to make sure I was delivered to the church safe and sound. Sigh.
Here we are 30 years later. We certainly have been through some rough times and we certainly have had a bunch of good times. We have been richer with dreams and hopes and we certainly have been poorer, down to just us living in the car. We've been blessed with healthy days and we both have had our share of caring for the other in sickness. For our 25th anniversary, it was wondering if Oliver was going to make it through the cancer scare that he had. Wondering if he'd make it until we reached the 26th. Now it's me, stuck with an incurable lung disease that has no known cause and no cure. I'm on meds that make me sick on the low doses I'm on and if by some chance I was to qualify or be able to afford a lung transplant, I would have to take these in much stronger doses. Not sure that's an option anyway. So now it's wondering if I'll make it to see the 31st, but still shooting for 50th. We'd like to at least beat the odds we were given on our wedding day by 10 times... today we reached 6 times. If you want more specific numbers, talk to Oliver... he has it calculated down to the minute, I'm sure.
We look at life differently now. No longer reaching for the golden ring but just enjoying the quiet, small things in life. Just having the other in the room and knowing that their steady breathing is still a testament to the heartbeat of life. We still love to laugh and Oliver still hates to see me cry. Our lives have always been about choices and most times we've felt we've made the right ones. Perhaps not to the eyes of the world, but to us. Would we do it all again? You betcha! Even knowing what we know now but with only one change... we would enjoy each and every moment and cherish it like it was our last because that is the main lesson we have learned through all these years. You never know what tomorrow brings. Sometimes I think back to that day and wonder how different my life would have been if that driver had taken me to the airport and I had gotten on that plane with just Pam. Some could say that the choice was made for me by Oliver hiring the limo and making sure it had locking doors that could not be opened by me in the back, but in actuality I would have still made the trek to the church where all my friends and most of my family were gathered to watch us get hitched. After all, I had done the wedding planning and we had one awesome reception planned. I didn't want to miss the party.
Oh, he had his cold feet moments too. The best man, his brother Bob, and a few of our friends were well trained in making sure he didn't wander too far from the altar. They all descended on him when he allegedly tried to go outside for a breath of fresh air. He wasn't going to be able to go any farther. We have made this journey together, one day at a time.
We've been battered and bruised but we've made it through many a storm. Our ship might be a little rougher for the wear but it's still holding tight, ready to sail the stormy seas that are ahead. We'll hit high waves and calm waters, taking turns at the helm, until the river of our lives runs dry. We know the day will come when one of us will have to carry on for awhile without the other to navigate but we know that the experience we've shared along the way will carry us through until the day the boat is docked for good and we meet again in the land called Heaven.
Today though, is a day of celebration for 30 years of marriage... who would have thought?
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