Veteran's Day

This is Veteran's Day! We owe a debt of appreciation to all veterans, every day, because we live in a free society.

Appreciation is more than just saying "Thank you!", although that is a tangible part of it. Our appreciation should really be in how we conduct ourselves to take care of the country for which so many have fought and died. Do we litter the landscape of this beautiful land? Do we use our resources wisely or squander them? Do we vote? There are many ways we can show appreciation for the legacy of our veterans.

I come from a proud military family and honor them today.....

My Dad - a career military man who joined the Army Air Corps and stayed with the Air Force when it became a separate branch. Served in WWII and Korea.

My Uncle Bob - a U.S. Army Chaplain. Was a POW in WWII

Four of my brothers who served in the military - one in Vietnam.

Brother-in-law - U.S. Army

Son-in-law - One tour in Bosnia, 3 tours in Iraq, and scheduled for Afghanistan this summer.

A heartfelt thanks for the service of all veterans who make it possible for Americans to walk in freedom.
Thank you!

The Eleventh Hour

The vigil continues as Mother defies the odds. I have heard it said that whatever you are like in your formative years, you are even more so late in life. Our Mother is a prime example of that. She can only move her left arm, but move it she does, and very effectively.

We resort to modern technology to keep our widespread family up-to-date. Calling each member of our large family every day would be physically and emotionally exhausting. Thank goodness for instant access. One of the grandchildren started a thread of memories. We are all too far flung to gather and share, so we share on the Facebook site where we can still laugh, cry, and support one another.

I remind myself constantly that the fragile shell inhabiting the hospital bed is only a remnant of the mother we knew. Of course, the people caring for her at this time in her life have never known the woman they see every day, as the adventurous, courageous, feisty woman we knew. We have placed a photo by her bed to let them see part of what she was like. It is the passport photo we had taken in preparation for our trip to Okinawa,one young woman surrounded by her seven children. The photo does its job and opens the door for stories as the staff asks questions.

Time is short and our hearts are heavy, but I have faith there is a mansion waiting.

The Vigil

None of us ever envisioned this - Mother resting comfortably in a hospice hospital bed. She was always so feisty and determined that seeing her in this situation is almost unfathomable. She was felled by a clot in the brain. We must all meet our end, but this is not the end any of us would have chosen had any of us had a voice in the matter.

Hospice has been around for a long time but I had never had any personal experience with it until now. Everything I have heard about it is true. The staff is wonderful, competent , and caring. They care, not only for the patient, but they care for the family. No deed is too insignificant for them. Settling Mother in, I mentioned that she seemed to like having her left hand out from under the covers. They immediately asked if there were anything else that seemed to make her comfortable. It was a small thing to do, but it was significant in indicating the depth of their attention to detail for her comfort.
The staff understands that she has not been able to hear for years, but they talk to her anyway, to provide reassurance and tell her what they are doing. They explain everything to us as we maintain our bedside vigil, come quickly when called, and provide relief for her whenever it is needed.
We wrestled at great length with the decisions that brought us here, but we are convinced that this is the most natural way for our Mother to continue on the journey that we must all take. The pamphlet hospice gave us says includes these thoughts by Henry Van Dyke:

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails in the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destination port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. and just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes, watching the coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,"Here she comes!"
And that is dying.

Here I Go Again

Time is fleeting....
I am getting ready for my next big trip and haven't finished writing about the others yet....priorities, priorities....

Have sent my passport to register for a visa and am waiting to receive it back. You never know with the postal service these days.

I attempted to make flight reservation on-line, but it was too involved for the time I had available, so the travel agency did it for me. It certainly saved me time, grief, and stressing out about whether or not I would make connections. The price was not a whole lot more either. I did make my own flight arrangements to the gateway city at less cost and better times. Just hope 2 hours to connect to home from an international flight will be long enough.

Oh, where am I going?
It is a bike (bicycling) and barge along the Mekong Delta in November. Meanwhile, I have to get the bike tuned up so I can get in some practice.

In the meantime, I will be filling in on the rest of my trip to Thailand & China....

From the Memory Box - "Musical Noses"

"Somewhere there is a tape of [the three youngest children] playing 'Jingle Bells' with their noses."

Many families are overflowing with musical talent. When we were first married, I envisioned evenings around the piano, singing our hearts out, but no one can play well enough for that. I bought a player piano and that worked for special occasions.

I am not familiar with this tape or, perhaps, I have chosen to forget it. I can certainly believe that they played "Jingle Bells", and probably a few other things, on their noses. Maybe I can find that tape and copy it for their children.

Promises, Promises

We are about to set a new record in Central Texas. We have had 65 days of temperatures in the triple digits. It is not a record I want to see set this year, or ever.

Today, the skies were dark, there was thunder, and the lights flickered. I know that was rain somewhere in the area just teasing us here. When I stepped out to gather the mail, a gentle breeze whispered around the corner. It felt like the air from an oven just cooling down after a baking session. Not much to stir hope for the Fall, but every little bit helps.

Maybe the next promise will deliver rain....a cool front....relief.....

From the Memory Box - "Books"

"You have to read one good-for-you book every time you go the library."

Once a week, I would load all the children into the car and we would go to the library. I put a limit on the number of books they could check out, 10 each, and they would push the limit every time. Silence reigned as we drove home. The children were engrossed in the books they had checked out. I would already be worrying about keeping the books accounted for so we could return them promptly and not have to pay a fine. That was a lot of books to keep an eye on!

As we pulled into the drive at home, the children would complain that they had almost finished reading everything they had checked out. Suggestions that they should up their reading levels fell on deaf ears. Finally, I refused to take them to the library unless they got at least one good-for-you book. At least one had to address a subject that had some substance to it, was hard enough to read that it took longer than a 30 minute ride from the library, and presented enough challenge to keep them occupied for a while.

There were some perfunctory complaints, especially from DS who was in a reading competition at school when he was in first grade.
"All the other kids get to read books that have 1-2 words or even no words on a page. Why can't I?" he complained.
"Everyone has his own abilities and I know you can do better," I pointed out.
He redoubled his efforts and won first place, having read some 200 books in the allotted time period. When his teacher asked what he wanted for a prize, he never missed a beat...."Money," he told her.