Most of you know that I lost my precious puppy, Igloo, just one month ago. It has been heartbreaking to say the least. But in the midst of the pain there have been bright moments. The day after he died, I was devastated and just going through the motions of life. I managed to water my plants outside and really not a whole lot more. I could not bear the thought of the plants dying too. While I was out there doing that chore, the cutest little yellow butterfly flitted by and made me smile through my tear streaked eyes. Following close behind, came a second, much smaller yellow butterfly. As I watched the two play in flight, I was reminded of how Igloo and Sadie used to play just like that. It was almost eerie but in their play, I did find some comfort.
For weeks now whenever I seem to get a bit overwhelmed and am really missing Igloo, I can look out the window and sure enough there would be the butterfly. Sometimes the smaller one is there, but most times it's just the bigger one. Occasionally he'll land on the screen and it seems like he's smiling at me. Oh I know what you're thinking... it's the meds... or grab the straight jacket. Trust me I thought that too, at first, but it has happened all too often. One day last week a friend stopped by and we were outside talking and the yellow butterfly came up on him, just like Igloo would have, to check him out. I didn't say anything, but I certainly noticed.
Yesterday I was mowing the jungle and it was hard. I had to mow right by the little area we have set up where Igloo and Sadie are buried. I admit, the tears started burning my eyes and then out of nowhere, the butterfly appeared and stayed around me the whole time I was out there, bobbing and weaving around me like he wanted to play. At one point I looked across the field between our house and our neighbors, the same field that we would see Sadie come bounding across and sure enough, here came the second little butterfly. Even I had to laugh.
It was just like old times only they were in the air and not in the line of fire of the lawnmower. There was a time when the heat, the tears and the emotions got to be a bit too much and I had to stop the mower in the middle of the yard. By this time it was just the one butterfly again and he came and sat on the steering wheel right in front of me. We just sat there staring at each other and I can't explain it but I felt this sense of calm. This sense that it was alright... not perfect, but alright.
I can go out on the porch and "talk" to Igloo and sure enough that butterfly will come out of nowhere. I think it has a mission, a mission to help me through. And I gotta say that it's doing its mission quite well. I still cry and my heart still hurts, but each day I move forward and each day I find a reason to smile and laugh. I know it sounds weird but just as Igloo helped me through before, I'm finding a little yellow butterfly and his friend helping me now.
As I look back through some of the deaths of people that I have had in my life, I have found that there have always been butterflies that have appeared in times of need. My sister-in-law last year, my best friend a couple of years ago, my aunt, my mother - although those didn't show up until spring but I didn't cry for her until then, so many more.... Not all have been yellow, some have been purple and even a bright lapis blue that was gorgeous. Coincidental? To my rational mind, yes. But somewhere in the depths of my spirit, I feel they are more than that. I am inspired by their freedom, entranced by their beauty and compelled to watch them and find a smile from somewhere deep inside me that I didn't think I would ever find again.
They say that God shows Himself in some simple ways... I believe He shows me that things are ok through butterflies. And I thank-Him for it. I miss my puppy terribly and it is still so very hard but I can see the beauty in life again and I owe that to the butterflies. One day I'll leave this life and I'll soar like an eagle into parts unknown and I pray that God will send butterflies to those who will miss me the most to remind them that I'm soaring and free. No more pain, no more meds, no more fears, no more tears, the struggles of this earth left behind. I'm a fighter and I have too many things yet to accomplish here but when my call comes, forgive me if I leave you for awhile and take my flight. Trust that God will help you through 'til we meet again on the other side of glory. In the meantime, you'll find me outside talking to a couple of yellow butterflies like a looney old woman. And that suits me just fine for now.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
McDonalds and a Braille Menu
It started out innocently enough. It was a nice, warm day in Chicagoland. The kind of day where people are out walking their dogs and milling about. The kind of day that just doesn't happen often enough in that part of the country. I had been at the church helping out with a conference and the pastors wife asked if I could take their kids to McDonalds and home until she was finished. No problem. Something I had done many times before. I love those kids and for reasons not clear to anyone else, they love me.
So I went and got them and we began our journey across town to McDonalds to get them their feast for the night. As we were driving along, we began people watching and were starting to have fun making up personalities and converstations to go with the people we were passing. It put us in a giggly frame of mind for sure. At one point we passed a blind man walking down the sidewalk with his red-tipped cane. We all drew quiet for a moment until we all remembered a sermon that a comedian had given at the church a couple of weeks prior. One of his "jokes" involved McDonalds and being able to ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Hmmmm.
Ok, so I admit it, the kid in me came out and we decided to check out the sermons facts and see if it is true that you can ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Since it was still a bit sunny out, I had my dark sunglasses on. They're really dark because the light hurts my eyes when I'm driving. We all figured that we'd just get a quick laugh and maybe an amusing look on the face of the worker and that would be it. None of us were ready for what transpired.
As it became our turn to pull up, I started lurching the car towards the window, um, perhaps a bit erratically for dramatic flair. Ryan, the oldest, was "directing" me from the back seat as to when to go and when to stop. Eric, the youngest, was by his side in the back playing his part to the hilt - like he was scared out of his wits. Renee, the middle child, was bravely up front with me. We finally got to the window (it was a slow night, no other customers behind us) and looking straight ahead, I asked THE question... "May I 'see' the Braille menu, please?" Without a second thought, the worker said "Sure, hold on a moment and we'll get it for you." "Thank-you"
She whispered to another worker who went off to find one, I assume. In the meantime, the kids were really starting to play this whole blind lady driving the kids around thing up. Renee blurted out something about a really pretty red car that passed by on the street when suddenly she "remembered" that I couldn't see it and began to tell me in great detail about the car. "Oh, Mrs. Peg, you'd love it if you could see it." Just like any other everday kind of conversation that you'd have while waiting. I gotta admit these kids were good. It was hard for me to keep a straight face but hey, we'd come this far, no backing down now.
The worker was listening to our conversations about things I couldn't see and by now had figured out that I was the one needing the Braille menu... or so she thought. Finally they produced said menu and I gotta tell you these workers had gotten some awesome ADA training. They were wonderful. Anyway, I get the menu and of course, I'm running my fingers over the little bumps and wondering in my head how awesome this tool really is. Eric pipes up from the back seat "Mrs. Peg, is the Happy Meal on there?" I get to one point on the Braille menu and tell him that yes indeed, it's on there. We handed back the menu and placed our order and thought that that was the end of it... Oh no... it gets better.
As I go to pay for it, I had Renee dig the money out of my purse and I just stuck my hand out the window, of course just a tad bit out of the reach of the worker. She didn't say a word. The kids all started directing me on which way to move my hands so that the worker could take the money. This took a while because I just kept missing her hand "by that much". Getting the change back wasn't any easier but mercifully neither of us dropped a dime. Then, Ryan in an animated, swinging his arms like he's directing traffic kind of way, "helped" me get to the next window. Lurch by winding lurch. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw two workers heads poking out - watching us make our way, painstakingly, to the next window.... not a smile on their faces. That's when the lightbulb clicked on in my brain... they weren't seeing this as a joke. Hmmm.
When we got to the next window, the assistant manager was there handing us our food and drinks. I played the same "missed it by that much" game with her until finally all the bags were passed over. I just kept handing them off to the kids because we weren't going to eat anything until we got back to their house anyway. Well, like most McDonalds drive-thrus, there was a turn at the end. With Ryan directing the way, we lurched out of there as we came in and finally, slowly, lurchingly, made the turn. As we were lurching along, I saw in the rearview mirror no less than six heads poking out of both windows watching us.
I managed to keep a straight face, as did the kids, until we made that turn and got out of their line of sight. Then I had to pull over because we all busted up laughing. I was laughing so hard, I thought for sure I was going to pee in my pants. I finally managed to compose myself after a few minutes and we drove home. Of course, we discussed it all the way there and it had been mentioned that we were surprised that none of them called the police, concerned that there was a blind woman driving with three kids in the car.
Once we got home and started rationing out the food, we quickly realized that we got way more food than we had ordered... like over $7 more in food. There were extra fries, nuggets and even flurries. The kids were thrilled. I felt guilty. Being that I didn't want to hustle them back into the car and make the trek back to McDonalds, I figured I'd just go in the next day and pay for the items that we got erroneously, and just enjoy the rest of the night with the kids. I gotta tell you, they were very good actors. Not that I was really surprised but they held the characters through the whole ordeal without so much as even smirking, which helped me do the same. We had a great night. It was a night I will always hold dear in my heart. Not that we didn't have a whole lot of other times that we had a ton of fun, but this one was super special.
The next day I went to McDonalds to speak with the manager and to pay for the extra food. I had a list of all the things we got "extra." I started to explain the situation to her and at first she thought I was complaining about the way that they handled me being blind. Um, I wasn't wearing my sunglasses at the time or even acting blind, but in hindsight, I could see where she got that idea - sort of. Anyway, I told her the whole story and assured her that her employees handled the situation with the utmost respect for the disability, that I really didn't have by the way. She wouldn't take my money. Once it sunk in that the whole thing was a joke based on a sermon, she finally saw the light and started laughing. She said that it made her day and was worth the $7 and something. Guess she had been having a few rough days of complaints in a row and that's why she thought at first that she was dealing with yet another one. I kept trying to pay but she just wouldn't take it. I did feel good that it made her day and that she was starting this new day out smiling and not frustrated from complaints. Go God!
So then I went on to work at the conference that was continuing at the church. Turns out that the conference speaker, Dr. Henry Malone, was staying at the pastors house and of course, heard the whole story from the kids before they went to bed. As we were gathered around the table for a leaders luncheon that he invited me to, he brought up the subject and had me share what had transpired. Reluctantly I did, but most people got a good chuckle out of it. Henry sure did, even more so than when the kids had told him I guess.
Someone in the group made the comment that I was teaching the pastors kids how to lie. Ouch! Never thought of it that way. Certainly wasn't my heart. I made sure that later on I did explain to the kids that I wasn't condoning lying under any circumstances, etc. Even apologized to the pastor, who incidently, did not take it that way. He knew my heart would never be to teach those kids, or any kids, anything of the sort. It was just a memory-making good time. A time that the kids and I will still bring up now and then and smile, even though two of them are out of school and the youngest is in high school... a drama student by the way and a very good one at that. No surprise on my part. The other two are using their God-given talents in serving the Kingdom as well.
I sit here and I smile when I think back on that memory. A simple "joke" in a sermon, carried out in real day life. A memory-maker for sure. I have a storehouse of memories of similar experiences of laughter and fun with many other people locked away in the recesses of my mind and each day I want to add to their numbers. Every day I wake up and I ask God, how are WE going to laugh today? What everyday thing are you going to let me see in a way that will bring a smile to my face and little happy flutter to my heart? And He does not disappoint. Try it. Ask Him to do the same for you and He will. Look for those memory-makers and take advantage of them.
Ryan, Renee and Eric, you all know that I love you with all of my heart. I look at the wonderful young adults that you have grown up to be and my heart fills with pride and happiness that I got to know you and have quality time with you through the years. Keep on laughing, keep on working for God's Kingdom advancement, and know that Mrs. Peg will be here for you always. I miss you but I know that one day we'll meet again and we'll sit down to eat and laugh at a memory that I, for one, will hold dear forever.
Go out and laugh today. Let God bring a smile to your face and if at all possible, bring one out on someone else's. It's rewarding, it's fun, it's memory-making, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's Kingdom-advancing. Um, just don't torture the local McDonalds... they really do have Braille menus at the drive-thru, trust me... let God show you a memory-maker of your own. Have a blessed day!
So I went and got them and we began our journey across town to McDonalds to get them their feast for the night. As we were driving along, we began people watching and were starting to have fun making up personalities and converstations to go with the people we were passing. It put us in a giggly frame of mind for sure. At one point we passed a blind man walking down the sidewalk with his red-tipped cane. We all drew quiet for a moment until we all remembered a sermon that a comedian had given at the church a couple of weeks prior. One of his "jokes" involved McDonalds and being able to ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Hmmmm.
Ok, so I admit it, the kid in me came out and we decided to check out the sermons facts and see if it is true that you can ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Since it was still a bit sunny out, I had my dark sunglasses on. They're really dark because the light hurts my eyes when I'm driving. We all figured that we'd just get a quick laugh and maybe an amusing look on the face of the worker and that would be it. None of us were ready for what transpired.
As it became our turn to pull up, I started lurching the car towards the window, um, perhaps a bit erratically for dramatic flair. Ryan, the oldest, was "directing" me from the back seat as to when to go and when to stop. Eric, the youngest, was by his side in the back playing his part to the hilt - like he was scared out of his wits. Renee, the middle child, was bravely up front with me. We finally got to the window (it was a slow night, no other customers behind us) and looking straight ahead, I asked THE question... "May I 'see' the Braille menu, please?" Without a second thought, the worker said "Sure, hold on a moment and we'll get it for you." "Thank-you"
She whispered to another worker who went off to find one, I assume. In the meantime, the kids were really starting to play this whole blind lady driving the kids around thing up. Renee blurted out something about a really pretty red car that passed by on the street when suddenly she "remembered" that I couldn't see it and began to tell me in great detail about the car. "Oh, Mrs. Peg, you'd love it if you could see it." Just like any other everday kind of conversation that you'd have while waiting. I gotta admit these kids were good. It was hard for me to keep a straight face but hey, we'd come this far, no backing down now.
The worker was listening to our conversations about things I couldn't see and by now had figured out that I was the one needing the Braille menu... or so she thought. Finally they produced said menu and I gotta tell you these workers had gotten some awesome ADA training. They were wonderful. Anyway, I get the menu and of course, I'm running my fingers over the little bumps and wondering in my head how awesome this tool really is. Eric pipes up from the back seat "Mrs. Peg, is the Happy Meal on there?" I get to one point on the Braille menu and tell him that yes indeed, it's on there. We handed back the menu and placed our order and thought that that was the end of it... Oh no... it gets better.
As I go to pay for it, I had Renee dig the money out of my purse and I just stuck my hand out the window, of course just a tad bit out of the reach of the worker. She didn't say a word. The kids all started directing me on which way to move my hands so that the worker could take the money. This took a while because I just kept missing her hand "by that much". Getting the change back wasn't any easier but mercifully neither of us dropped a dime. Then, Ryan in an animated, swinging his arms like he's directing traffic kind of way, "helped" me get to the next window. Lurch by winding lurch. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw two workers heads poking out - watching us make our way, painstakingly, to the next window.... not a smile on their faces. That's when the lightbulb clicked on in my brain... they weren't seeing this as a joke. Hmmm.
When we got to the next window, the assistant manager was there handing us our food and drinks. I played the same "missed it by that much" game with her until finally all the bags were passed over. I just kept handing them off to the kids because we weren't going to eat anything until we got back to their house anyway. Well, like most McDonalds drive-thrus, there was a turn at the end. With Ryan directing the way, we lurched out of there as we came in and finally, slowly, lurchingly, made the turn. As we were lurching along, I saw in the rearview mirror no less than six heads poking out of both windows watching us.
I managed to keep a straight face, as did the kids, until we made that turn and got out of their line of sight. Then I had to pull over because we all busted up laughing. I was laughing so hard, I thought for sure I was going to pee in my pants. I finally managed to compose myself after a few minutes and we drove home. Of course, we discussed it all the way there and it had been mentioned that we were surprised that none of them called the police, concerned that there was a blind woman driving with three kids in the car.
Once we got home and started rationing out the food, we quickly realized that we got way more food than we had ordered... like over $7 more in food. There were extra fries, nuggets and even flurries. The kids were thrilled. I felt guilty. Being that I didn't want to hustle them back into the car and make the trek back to McDonalds, I figured I'd just go in the next day and pay for the items that we got erroneously, and just enjoy the rest of the night with the kids. I gotta tell you, they were very good actors. Not that I was really surprised but they held the characters through the whole ordeal without so much as even smirking, which helped me do the same. We had a great night. It was a night I will always hold dear in my heart. Not that we didn't have a whole lot of other times that we had a ton of fun, but this one was super special.
The next day I went to McDonalds to speak with the manager and to pay for the extra food. I had a list of all the things we got "extra." I started to explain the situation to her and at first she thought I was complaining about the way that they handled me being blind. Um, I wasn't wearing my sunglasses at the time or even acting blind, but in hindsight, I could see where she got that idea - sort of. Anyway, I told her the whole story and assured her that her employees handled the situation with the utmost respect for the disability, that I really didn't have by the way. She wouldn't take my money. Once it sunk in that the whole thing was a joke based on a sermon, she finally saw the light and started laughing. She said that it made her day and was worth the $7 and something. Guess she had been having a few rough days of complaints in a row and that's why she thought at first that she was dealing with yet another one. I kept trying to pay but she just wouldn't take it. I did feel good that it made her day and that she was starting this new day out smiling and not frustrated from complaints. Go God!
So then I went on to work at the conference that was continuing at the church. Turns out that the conference speaker, Dr. Henry Malone, was staying at the pastors house and of course, heard the whole story from the kids before they went to bed. As we were gathered around the table for a leaders luncheon that he invited me to, he brought up the subject and had me share what had transpired. Reluctantly I did, but most people got a good chuckle out of it. Henry sure did, even more so than when the kids had told him I guess.
Someone in the group made the comment that I was teaching the pastors kids how to lie. Ouch! Never thought of it that way. Certainly wasn't my heart. I made sure that later on I did explain to the kids that I wasn't condoning lying under any circumstances, etc. Even apologized to the pastor, who incidently, did not take it that way. He knew my heart would never be to teach those kids, or any kids, anything of the sort. It was just a memory-making good time. A time that the kids and I will still bring up now and then and smile, even though two of them are out of school and the youngest is in high school... a drama student by the way and a very good one at that. No surprise on my part. The other two are using their God-given talents in serving the Kingdom as well.
I sit here and I smile when I think back on that memory. A simple "joke" in a sermon, carried out in real day life. A memory-maker for sure. I have a storehouse of memories of similar experiences of laughter and fun with many other people locked away in the recesses of my mind and each day I want to add to their numbers. Every day I wake up and I ask God, how are WE going to laugh today? What everyday thing are you going to let me see in a way that will bring a smile to my face and little happy flutter to my heart? And He does not disappoint. Try it. Ask Him to do the same for you and He will. Look for those memory-makers and take advantage of them.
Ryan, Renee and Eric, you all know that I love you with all of my heart. I look at the wonderful young adults that you have grown up to be and my heart fills with pride and happiness that I got to know you and have quality time with you through the years. Keep on laughing, keep on working for God's Kingdom advancement, and know that Mrs. Peg will be here for you always. I miss you but I know that one day we'll meet again and we'll sit down to eat and laugh at a memory that I, for one, will hold dear forever.
Go out and laugh today. Let God bring a smile to your face and if at all possible, bring one out on someone else's. It's rewarding, it's fun, it's memory-making, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's Kingdom-advancing. Um, just don't torture the local McDonalds... they really do have Braille menus at the drive-thru, trust me... let God show you a memory-maker of your own. Have a blessed day!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Winds of Change
Ah, the winds of change. They whirl and twirl all around us every day. Some days we notice, some days we don't. Some days we see them coming and other days they sneak up on us unexpectedly. But they're always blowing.
Today was hard and exciting, all in the same breath. We sent out into the world a lovely young couple with two darling children to go to China for a year where they will be teaching and ministering. We also sent four of our youth, including the pastors oldest daughter, to Oklahoma City for a yearlong internship. Others will be going to college. Still more will be leaving soon in service to our country. Some have had to say last good-byes to people they have held dear and others never had a chance to say good-bye and yet will see their loved one no more.
Sometimes it's just moving on and moving forward, sometimes it's leaving people behind. Sometimes it's both. It can be exciting and it can be scary. It can be peaceful and it can be overwhelming. Change. No matter how hard or tight you try to hold on to something, it will change. You will change, they will change, circumstances will change or all of the above.
We only have what is right now. We need to embrace it and love the moment but be willing and able to let go when the time comes. It's part of this thing we call the circle of life. As a parent it's hard to let your child go into uncharted territory and yet we find in doing so that we look at our own parents through a slightly different lens than when we made that trek in our own lives. There's an old saying - "let go and let God." Ah, much easier said than done.
But when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of either we trust Him - or we don't. It's as simple and as complicated as that. Change is going to come. If it hasn't hit you today, it will soon. Good change, bad change, it doesn't matter what shape or form the change takes... what matters is trusting the One who is the author and finisher of our faith and our life changes. I'm an emotional person. I am not a big fan of change... I've seen a lot of it in my life, but the one thing that does not change for me is my trust in Him. Tho the winds of change blow around me, still I will praise Him and trust Him.
Are the winds of change blowing around you? Grab the anchor that will get you through any storm that these winds of change might kick up at you. It's ok to visit the emotions, the pain - the excitement, the sorrow, the joy and everything in between - it's even healthy to do so, just don't stay there. Let Him bring you through. Be still and know, really know, that He is God and you will come through - stronger and hopefully wiser.
I wish them all well. My heart hurts a bit more because I will miss them, as I do so many others that have touched my life, but I trust that God will take care of them and there's always Facebook to keep them close. Blessings to my friends who are leaving and moving on to new and exciting possibilities and ((hugs)) to those you left behind. We're all in these winds of change together - in good times and in bad. Thank God.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" "I dunno..." uh oh, here we go again... I guess SOME things never change... lol. Have a good one. Love ya!
Today was hard and exciting, all in the same breath. We sent out into the world a lovely young couple with two darling children to go to China for a year where they will be teaching and ministering. We also sent four of our youth, including the pastors oldest daughter, to Oklahoma City for a yearlong internship. Others will be going to college. Still more will be leaving soon in service to our country. Some have had to say last good-byes to people they have held dear and others never had a chance to say good-bye and yet will see their loved one no more.
Sometimes it's just moving on and moving forward, sometimes it's leaving people behind. Sometimes it's both. It can be exciting and it can be scary. It can be peaceful and it can be overwhelming. Change. No matter how hard or tight you try to hold on to something, it will change. You will change, they will change, circumstances will change or all of the above.
We only have what is right now. We need to embrace it and love the moment but be willing and able to let go when the time comes. It's part of this thing we call the circle of life. As a parent it's hard to let your child go into uncharted territory and yet we find in doing so that we look at our own parents through a slightly different lens than when we made that trek in our own lives. There's an old saying - "let go and let God." Ah, much easier said than done.
But when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of either we trust Him - or we don't. It's as simple and as complicated as that. Change is going to come. If it hasn't hit you today, it will soon. Good change, bad change, it doesn't matter what shape or form the change takes... what matters is trusting the One who is the author and finisher of our faith and our life changes. I'm an emotional person. I am not a big fan of change... I've seen a lot of it in my life, but the one thing that does not change for me is my trust in Him. Tho the winds of change blow around me, still I will praise Him and trust Him.
Are the winds of change blowing around you? Grab the anchor that will get you through any storm that these winds of change might kick up at you. It's ok to visit the emotions, the pain - the excitement, the sorrow, the joy and everything in between - it's even healthy to do so, just don't stay there. Let Him bring you through. Be still and know, really know, that He is God and you will come through - stronger and hopefully wiser.
I wish them all well. My heart hurts a bit more because I will miss them, as I do so many others that have touched my life, but I trust that God will take care of them and there's always Facebook to keep them close. Blessings to my friends who are leaving and moving on to new and exciting possibilities and ((hugs)) to those you left behind. We're all in these winds of change together - in good times and in bad. Thank God.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" "I dunno..." uh oh, here we go again... I guess SOME things never change... lol. Have a good one. Love ya!
Monday, August 3, 2009
I just don't understand
Why is "normal and happy" such an unattainable place for me? All my life that's all I've ever wanted and every time I get some little bit of happiness, something happens to take the joy right out of it. It's been a pattern that I have not been able to break since the day I was born.
Of course, you all know that most recently the pain is from losing my dear, sweet Igloo. He was my everything. He was by my side, or more appropriately in my face, pretty much on a constant basis. The only times he wasn't when was he was sleeping, eating, or in Olivers face. The three of us did everything together. We'd go for rides in the car just to check out this beautiful area that we've moved to, with Igloo barking hello to everyone he saw. We'd play in the yard and of course, in every area of the house. Everywhere are memories of good times with Igloo. He was a lifesource for us, a bright shining beacon of hope in a sometimes scary world.
Every day we thanked God for our blessings and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I wasn't looking for "the other shoe to drop." I basked in the glow of a full heart and complete and utter happiness despite the physical challenges that I face. I had hope. In an instant, in a twisted act of fate, a true accident, all of that changed. And with that change, I not only am feeling the pain of losing him, but also wondering why it is that I can never have more than a fleeting moment of true happiness. Even the big moments in my life have been tainted by angst and pain.
My first field trip in school. I was so looking forward to going to the dairy farm up in Northern Illinois. We had talked about it for weeks and the anticipation was almost too much to bear for me. I was so excited. Instead I spent that day in the hospital getting my tonsils out. Of course, not only that day but quite a few more because my throat wasn't healing like it should and I kept spitting up blood. So much for the first field trip. Graduating from high school. Should have been a happy day and one filled with excitement and anticipation of a bright future. Mine was shadowed by the death of my mother that very afternoon and filled with funerals and estates and bills. I had prayed so hard that she live 'til my graduation day. It meant so much to her that I was graduating. She did. God answered that prayer to a "t". Then I've spent the next 35 years beating myself up because I didn't ask for more time with her, for a longer life for her, for complete healing, etc.
Getting married. My father, rest his soul, couldn't be bothered to even come, let alone give me away. Can't tell you the roller coaster ride that relationship was in my life up until the day he died. Fortunately we were able to hash most of it out in those months before his death, so that helped. It really wasn't personal. It had more to do with the bitter divorce between him and my mother. Still it hurt me.
The birth of my son. I get the flu a few days before going into labor and I'm deathly ill when the labor starts. We get to the hospital, in the middle of a snowstorm no less, where I spend the next couple of days in labor, watching mothers come in, give birth and go home with their babies. All the while, I'm in labor. Finally they take me in for a c-section and still I can't be happy. There were complications with the surgery and my body went haywire, so I spent the next month in the hospital, clinging to life by a thread. I didn't even get to hold my son until he was a month old. Kinda sucked the joy out of that moment.
That same son, who is now 29, isn't talking to me and I'm not even sure why. That seems to add to the pain. He knows how much Igloo meant to me, and his dad, and not even a phone call or an email. We know he knows, Kim has emailed me. But that is another pain that weighs heavy on my heart. I pray for him and pray that God shows him that we are his parents who love him and have sacrificed for him all our lives. I continue to do so today. I'm going through all the stuff at Vanderbilt that I am, not for my life - but for his and for Eli's. My mom was my age when she died, under similar symptoms and if there is some way to find out why and stop it, then I'm pursuing it so that Dan and Eli can stay ahead of it. Him not caring really hurts too.
I have not one, but two brothers that have ridden off into the sunset of their lives and I have no idea where either of them are. My oldest brother has been missing for almost 40 years and to this day I do not know whether he is alive or dead. My younger brother chose to walk away and not look back. Neither had an offense towards me personally, but that doesn't mean their choices haven't effected me or caused me pain.
I've lost many friends that have died under sometimes long illness circumstances and sometimes in the blink of an eye, unexpectedly. I know all too well how our days are so precious and that none of us are promised tomorrow. I've seen it firsthand way too many times in my life. That's part of why I try to live each day to the fullest, enjoying each small, quiet, "normal" moment that I can. I try to never take anything for granted.
Some of the other stories, I've mentioned in other blogs. My life has been peppered with major life experiences out-shadowing the moments in my life that should be "normal and happy." I just can't seem to get a break. And yet each day I wake up thinking that surely this time things will work out because in the end of all the stories, good outweighs evil. Right?
Igloo was my prince in white fur. For a short time I actually got to experience the unconditional love and pure joy that he brought to my life. And I will be forever grateful for those times. I don't need to wonder if he knew he was loved - he did. We showered him every day with our love and affection. That's part of what makes this so hard. There will be no more opportunities to do that. I look around the house and all I see are glimpses in my mind of what was and what will be no more. I go outside and see the same. I go for a drive, and the streets that made me smile and feel so at peace less than one week ago, tug at my heart and cause me to cry. We know he loved us - more than anything, except maybe Sadie. Still it hurts and the tears keep flowing.
I am grateful for the friends who have understood and I really do understand the thoughts of those who don't. My life is not lacking for love at all. It's not that. It's an old turmoil that unfortunately has been churned up too often in my life. Is it a curse? Shouldn't be, I've gone through every thing I can to break any curses that might have been placed. Am I running from it and bottling it up so that I don't have to deal with it? Hardly. I'm feeling it with every fiber of my being and trying so hard to see what it is in the lesson that I'm missing.
Oh I've been through this enough to know not to say I will never smile again or find a reason to laugh. I know I will - it's part of who I am. I laugh hard when I'm happy and cry hard when I'm sad. I feel. Some say I'm oversensitive and they're probably right. But I would rather be that than not feel at all. As long as I'm feeling, be it pain or joy, I know I'm still alive. I know that there is still love in my heart and that despite my best efforts to wall it off, someway, somehow, someone or something will sneak behind the walls and capture it. They always do. But I have to admit that few get to that place easily.
Every day I see people treating each other badly and I want to go up and shake them sometimes and tell them not to do it. To tell them that it's moments like this that will replay in their minds over and over again when there are no more moments with that person in their lives. I want to ask them "if this were the last day of your life, is this how you would like to be remembered? And if this were the last day in the other person's life, is this the moment you want to remember?"
I know I am not unique in experiencing the things that I have. Not by a longshot. And I know that there are people who have experienced things far more horrific than I ever will, or at least I hope not to. I know the pain I'm in now and the tears that I'm shedding are not going to last forever. I know that one day these memories that cause me to cry so hard now will bring a smile of peace and remembrance to my heart. I know that somewhere amidst this dark cloud, the sun still shines and life will go on.
I just want to ride out the rest of my life "normal and happy" but I just can't seem to. I thought I was going to. I know there's some reaon to all of this that I just don't understand... I KNOW all that in my head, but I just don't understand why I can't get my heart to.
Of course, you all know that most recently the pain is from losing my dear, sweet Igloo. He was my everything. He was by my side, or more appropriately in my face, pretty much on a constant basis. The only times he wasn't when was he was sleeping, eating, or in Olivers face. The three of us did everything together. We'd go for rides in the car just to check out this beautiful area that we've moved to, with Igloo barking hello to everyone he saw. We'd play in the yard and of course, in every area of the house. Everywhere are memories of good times with Igloo. He was a lifesource for us, a bright shining beacon of hope in a sometimes scary world.
Every day we thanked God for our blessings and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I wasn't looking for "the other shoe to drop." I basked in the glow of a full heart and complete and utter happiness despite the physical challenges that I face. I had hope. In an instant, in a twisted act of fate, a true accident, all of that changed. And with that change, I not only am feeling the pain of losing him, but also wondering why it is that I can never have more than a fleeting moment of true happiness. Even the big moments in my life have been tainted by angst and pain.
My first field trip in school. I was so looking forward to going to the dairy farm up in Northern Illinois. We had talked about it for weeks and the anticipation was almost too much to bear for me. I was so excited. Instead I spent that day in the hospital getting my tonsils out. Of course, not only that day but quite a few more because my throat wasn't healing like it should and I kept spitting up blood. So much for the first field trip. Graduating from high school. Should have been a happy day and one filled with excitement and anticipation of a bright future. Mine was shadowed by the death of my mother that very afternoon and filled with funerals and estates and bills. I had prayed so hard that she live 'til my graduation day. It meant so much to her that I was graduating. She did. God answered that prayer to a "t". Then I've spent the next 35 years beating myself up because I didn't ask for more time with her, for a longer life for her, for complete healing, etc.
Getting married. My father, rest his soul, couldn't be bothered to even come, let alone give me away. Can't tell you the roller coaster ride that relationship was in my life up until the day he died. Fortunately we were able to hash most of it out in those months before his death, so that helped. It really wasn't personal. It had more to do with the bitter divorce between him and my mother. Still it hurt me.
The birth of my son. I get the flu a few days before going into labor and I'm deathly ill when the labor starts. We get to the hospital, in the middle of a snowstorm no less, where I spend the next couple of days in labor, watching mothers come in, give birth and go home with their babies. All the while, I'm in labor. Finally they take me in for a c-section and still I can't be happy. There were complications with the surgery and my body went haywire, so I spent the next month in the hospital, clinging to life by a thread. I didn't even get to hold my son until he was a month old. Kinda sucked the joy out of that moment.
That same son, who is now 29, isn't talking to me and I'm not even sure why. That seems to add to the pain. He knows how much Igloo meant to me, and his dad, and not even a phone call or an email. We know he knows, Kim has emailed me. But that is another pain that weighs heavy on my heart. I pray for him and pray that God shows him that we are his parents who love him and have sacrificed for him all our lives. I continue to do so today. I'm going through all the stuff at Vanderbilt that I am, not for my life - but for his and for Eli's. My mom was my age when she died, under similar symptoms and if there is some way to find out why and stop it, then I'm pursuing it so that Dan and Eli can stay ahead of it. Him not caring really hurts too.
I have not one, but two brothers that have ridden off into the sunset of their lives and I have no idea where either of them are. My oldest brother has been missing for almost 40 years and to this day I do not know whether he is alive or dead. My younger brother chose to walk away and not look back. Neither had an offense towards me personally, but that doesn't mean their choices haven't effected me or caused me pain.
I've lost many friends that have died under sometimes long illness circumstances and sometimes in the blink of an eye, unexpectedly. I know all too well how our days are so precious and that none of us are promised tomorrow. I've seen it firsthand way too many times in my life. That's part of why I try to live each day to the fullest, enjoying each small, quiet, "normal" moment that I can. I try to never take anything for granted.
Some of the other stories, I've mentioned in other blogs. My life has been peppered with major life experiences out-shadowing the moments in my life that should be "normal and happy." I just can't seem to get a break. And yet each day I wake up thinking that surely this time things will work out because in the end of all the stories, good outweighs evil. Right?
Igloo was my prince in white fur. For a short time I actually got to experience the unconditional love and pure joy that he brought to my life. And I will be forever grateful for those times. I don't need to wonder if he knew he was loved - he did. We showered him every day with our love and affection. That's part of what makes this so hard. There will be no more opportunities to do that. I look around the house and all I see are glimpses in my mind of what was and what will be no more. I go outside and see the same. I go for a drive, and the streets that made me smile and feel so at peace less than one week ago, tug at my heart and cause me to cry. We know he loved us - more than anything, except maybe Sadie. Still it hurts and the tears keep flowing.
I am grateful for the friends who have understood and I really do understand the thoughts of those who don't. My life is not lacking for love at all. It's not that. It's an old turmoil that unfortunately has been churned up too often in my life. Is it a curse? Shouldn't be, I've gone through every thing I can to break any curses that might have been placed. Am I running from it and bottling it up so that I don't have to deal with it? Hardly. I'm feeling it with every fiber of my being and trying so hard to see what it is in the lesson that I'm missing.
Oh I've been through this enough to know not to say I will never smile again or find a reason to laugh. I know I will - it's part of who I am. I laugh hard when I'm happy and cry hard when I'm sad. I feel. Some say I'm oversensitive and they're probably right. But I would rather be that than not feel at all. As long as I'm feeling, be it pain or joy, I know I'm still alive. I know that there is still love in my heart and that despite my best efforts to wall it off, someway, somehow, someone or something will sneak behind the walls and capture it. They always do. But I have to admit that few get to that place easily.
Every day I see people treating each other badly and I want to go up and shake them sometimes and tell them not to do it. To tell them that it's moments like this that will replay in their minds over and over again when there are no more moments with that person in their lives. I want to ask them "if this were the last day of your life, is this how you would like to be remembered? And if this were the last day in the other person's life, is this the moment you want to remember?"
I know I am not unique in experiencing the things that I have. Not by a longshot. And I know that there are people who have experienced things far more horrific than I ever will, or at least I hope not to. I know the pain I'm in now and the tears that I'm shedding are not going to last forever. I know that one day these memories that cause me to cry so hard now will bring a smile of peace and remembrance to my heart. I know that somewhere amidst this dark cloud, the sun still shines and life will go on.
I just want to ride out the rest of my life "normal and happy" but I just can't seem to. I thought I was going to. I know there's some reaon to all of this that I just don't understand... I KNOW all that in my head, but I just don't understand why I can't get my heart to.
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
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