It was a lovely Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve with family. We ate and we laughed and enjoyed just being together. Christmas Day we were invited to a dear friend's home for some of his sumptuous cooking with a delicious homemade veggie pot pie and potato casserole that had water chestnuts on top covered in a creamy sauce, just to mention a few of the dishes!
We had the pleasure of meeting one of the guests for the first time. Oh my! She is beautiful, charming, and a wonderful story teller! She captured my attention right off the bat! After we had settled down at the feast of a meal in the dining room which was decorated with such style and detail, she told us a little about herself.
She said that all of the homes that she has owned in her adult life had picket fences. If she bought one and it didn't have one, she had one built. "Let me explain." She continued.
"As a child my sister and I would ride in the back seat of the family car for over eight hours every Christmas, and other visits as well, to go see our Grandmother. Our Father would get us up early and take us to get donuts, then get us situated in the car and head to Texas.
My Grandmother's farm had a long winding gravel road entry bordered by huge mature trees on either side. As Grandmother anticipated our arrival, she would listen for the noise of our car making its way to the house, hearing the popping and crunching of the gravel!
She would welcome us with big love, hugs and kisses. It was such a sweet time visiting her. Her home had a picket fence that had a small vegetable garden in it and a rose arbor. We would spend time in the summer helping her pick the veggies and often sit under one of the garden's large mimosa trees while we snapped beans. There are so many loving memories that were created right there in that space, within the confines of the picket fence.
It took me years to figure out why each of the homes in my adult years with my picket fences didn't seem to measure up, didn't make me as happy as it did as a child. But with time I began to realize that it really wasn't the picket fence that filled me with joy. It was the unconditional love of my Grandmother and all the fun and happy memories that were stored in my young heart."
I sat there like I was hypnotized as she filled my head with images and wanting to have had the honor of knowing her Grandmother!!
These are the gifts that matter most all of our lives. It's not about how much money we can spend on our children, how big and shiny our toys are as adults, but instead it's the time well spent together: playing games that make us laugh till our sides ache, pulling out the box of old photos stored under aunt Lucille's bed, having a family reunion and recording the elders' stories of long ago, to truly 'hear' one another, 'see' one another.
It is my prayer for each of you as the New Year begins that you will make very special memories with your loved ones and dear friends that they will carry with them all their days and into eternity. For truly, as I've said before, what we take with us when we 'transition 'is the Love that is woven into the DNA of our souls, the love we gave to another and the love we received.
Blessings! Happy New Year!
Becki
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
WELL DONE
I was visiting Hospice patients all over Tulsa County that winter. I hated getting out on sometimes slick roads and freezing temperatures. But the precious homes and dear patients and families and inviting warmth from the fireplaces or fake gas logs helped encourage me to keep driving!
The majority of my patients always had someone, or many, welcome me inside and were eager to fetch me a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. It was especially good to see a hospice patient surrounded by those who were hopeful of making a difference at the 'tail end' of their loved one's journey.
Sometimes as the end grew near, the moments would seem to grow especially long. And on this one particular visit it was as if time stood still and was weighing upon my heart as I gathered with those surrounding her in her final hours.
She was resting comfortably considering the scene before us. And as some of my patients have occasionally shared with me, "I feel like I'm between here and there", she wasn't responding but we all believed she could still hear us. One sister spoke with this conviction upon her lips, "Sis, I know you can hear me even now. I feel your spirit is just waiting for your tired little body to stop trying to keep you here. Please forgive my tears. I know you are going to your heavenly home and I wouldn't try to keep you here with my selfishness, but I'm just human and I'm heartbroken you are leaving me. But listen here, Sis, all of us are surrounding you wishing you 'travel mercies' for the sweetest arrival Heaven's gates have even known. 'Course now you know we are prejudice, but there you have it." She continued speaking softly in her sister's ear while stroking her now smooth brow with glistening beads of sweat.
Her sister-n-law had arrived the day before and had been at the bedside without words but with gentle application of lip moisturizer ointment, her sister's favorite perfumed lotion carefully rubbed on her frail skin and bony knees, elbows, heels and shoulders, and also tidying up the bedside table, bringing candy-cane colored carnations in a sweet porcelain vase to cheer the room.
Her already grieving children took turns standing near to hold her soft hands that were beginning to turn blue, carefully comb her still beautiful silky white hair, making attempts to sing her favorite hymns, and in these moments now coaxing her, giving her their permission too, to 'cross over' to join their Dad. "Mother, we will be OK. Go on now. We know Daddy is waiting nearby to escort you. He promised he would."
But I think the hardest part for me was helping this beloved patient's Mother who was still able to walk with her walker to draw near as close as she could to her daughter's side. I openly, quietly wept as I held her up as she tried to bend over and kiss her daughter's pale cheeks, "Sweetheart, Mother is here. This is Mother dear. Don't be afraid. You are going to see so many loved ones. I am so ready to go with you but God is keeping me here a mite longer. You tell everyone I'll come too before long." As I helped her to the love seat nearby I thought my heart was going to burst.
Then within just moments before she did pass, her oldest sister approached, pulled up the little wooden stool as close as she could get to the bed and with a deep breath began urging her little sister tenderly, against all common sense to most, against her true heart's desire, someone she had told us that she loved beyond words...to go. "Sister, your sweet little heart is weary beyond human comprehension. You can lay your precious body down now and rise up and take flight. We will all miss you but we truly will be OK. We know you have always wanted to take care of all of us, but we promise you, we will take care of ourselves. We will take extra good care of Mother..."
And with those last words, their loved one did take one more deep breath before finally letting go.
A granddaughter requested they all join hands and pray. This young but very mature woman beautifully called upon their God for all they needed in those moments and in the days, weeks, and months ahead. She then opened her Grandmother's worn Bible and read the underlined (with red ink) 1 Peter 1: 3-9
Every winter season when this time of year rolls around, I think of them and say to myself, "Well done family. Well done."
The majority of my patients always had someone, or many, welcome me inside and were eager to fetch me a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. It was especially good to see a hospice patient surrounded by those who were hopeful of making a difference at the 'tail end' of their loved one's journey.
Sometimes as the end grew near, the moments would seem to grow especially long. And on this one particular visit it was as if time stood still and was weighing upon my heart as I gathered with those surrounding her in her final hours.
She was resting comfortably considering the scene before us. And as some of my patients have occasionally shared with me, "I feel like I'm between here and there", she wasn't responding but we all believed she could still hear us. One sister spoke with this conviction upon her lips, "Sis, I know you can hear me even now. I feel your spirit is just waiting for your tired little body to stop trying to keep you here. Please forgive my tears. I know you are going to your heavenly home and I wouldn't try to keep you here with my selfishness, but I'm just human and I'm heartbroken you are leaving me. But listen here, Sis, all of us are surrounding you wishing you 'travel mercies' for the sweetest arrival Heaven's gates have even known. 'Course now you know we are prejudice, but there you have it." She continued speaking softly in her sister's ear while stroking her now smooth brow with glistening beads of sweat.
Her sister-n-law had arrived the day before and had been at the bedside without words but with gentle application of lip moisturizer ointment, her sister's favorite perfumed lotion carefully rubbed on her frail skin and bony knees, elbows, heels and shoulders, and also tidying up the bedside table, bringing candy-cane colored carnations in a sweet porcelain vase to cheer the room.
Her already grieving children took turns standing near to hold her soft hands that were beginning to turn blue, carefully comb her still beautiful silky white hair, making attempts to sing her favorite hymns, and in these moments now coaxing her, giving her their permission too, to 'cross over' to join their Dad. "Mother, we will be OK. Go on now. We know Daddy is waiting nearby to escort you. He promised he would."
But I think the hardest part for me was helping this beloved patient's Mother who was still able to walk with her walker to draw near as close as she could to her daughter's side. I openly, quietly wept as I held her up as she tried to bend over and kiss her daughter's pale cheeks, "Sweetheart, Mother is here. This is Mother dear. Don't be afraid. You are going to see so many loved ones. I am so ready to go with you but God is keeping me here a mite longer. You tell everyone I'll come too before long." As I helped her to the love seat nearby I thought my heart was going to burst.
Then within just moments before she did pass, her oldest sister approached, pulled up the little wooden stool as close as she could get to the bed and with a deep breath began urging her little sister tenderly, against all common sense to most, against her true heart's desire, someone she had told us that she loved beyond words...to go. "Sister, your sweet little heart is weary beyond human comprehension. You can lay your precious body down now and rise up and take flight. We will all miss you but we truly will be OK. We know you have always wanted to take care of all of us, but we promise you, we will take care of ourselves. We will take extra good care of Mother..."
And with those last words, their loved one did take one more deep breath before finally letting go.
A granddaughter requested they all join hands and pray. This young but very mature woman beautifully called upon their God for all they needed in those moments and in the days, weeks, and months ahead. She then opened her Grandmother's worn Bible and read the underlined (with red ink) 1 Peter 1: 3-9
Every winter season when this time of year rolls around, I think of them and say to myself, "Well done family. Well done."
Friday, November 22, 2013
PARTING GIFTS
This week my two sisters, our Dad and his lovely wife, Mary Ann, our Dad's twin brother, dear uncle Red and his amazing wife, Aunt Chris and myself (a round table full of us) met at Cracker Barrel in Tulsa in honor of my brother's birthday, November 21, 1956. He transitioned, as I like to say, back to Heaven on June 23, 2009.
We brought favorite photos, shared stories, laughed, sighed and just truly enjoyed one another's presence. It felt good these 4 years later to be OK about doing this. Yes, of course, we still miss him and we are truly sorry he is not physically at the table with us because he loved all of us dearly and had great stories to tell! But it's not as painful to pull out the memories now.
When grief is fresh, as I know it is for many of you right now, you are just trying to get from one day to the next, never knowing for sure when a sudden outburst of tears will spring upon you. And pushing it down doesn't make it go away! It will surface! I remember there were days I wasn't sure about going to the grocery store or the post office for fear I'd see or hear something that would drop me to my knees. Not pretty!!
But this week we were able to bravely join one another and remember. My little sister, Cindy, had this idea!! Bless her!!
Writing has been therapy for me for as long as I can remember. Sometimes when we were in the outpatient oncology unit waiting for lab work, waiting for the doctor, waiting for the chemo infusion or in the hospital with a whole 'nother realm of waiting for things...I would write in my spiral notebook journal. I can't explain scientifically how it helped, but it did.
Even in my head it felt like there were scraps of mental notes, pieces of paper fluttering around and then landing, sticking upon the blood brain barrier. I couldn't gather them, sort them yet. I left them there for later.
I read, "God remains with us in these dark places and valleys, even when we feel out of control, lost, and angry." Robert J. Miller, Grief Quest That was good to know and be reminded!
When I was able to write my book, Transitions: A Nurse's Education About Life and Death, in August of 2011, I dedicated the final chapter to those memories. It's titled, My Brother's Keeper. And yes, as I sat there typing away there were moments of slinging snot and tears as I unfurled the pent up mental notes. More than once I'd get up from that spot and usher myself to a secluded hallway and breathe that spiritual Sedona air, call upon my angels, then head back in there and start typing again. I am thankful I did journal those days and nights in 2008 and 2009!!
So, I just want to tell you that wherever you are in your journey: new marriage, unwanted divorce, surprise twins, unwelcome early retirement, The diagnosis, potty-training a puppy....journal!! I promise it helps as you write and it will bless you deep down when you read it years later.
I know without a hint of a doubt that God/Spirit/All That Is, my angels, Jesus, many others were with me in those sometimes very long days and nights with my brother....and with many others over the past 30 years as I sat at their bedsides too.
I continue to believe we are NOT ALONE wherever we are in our Journey. So, to all of you who are facing your first holidays without someone you love, I wrap my virtual arms around you and hold you in my heart and pray you Know you are not alone. I pray you truly feel the Presence of Love sweep across your soul reminding you how very precious you truly are on so many levels!
Love and Peace
Becki
We brought favorite photos, shared stories, laughed, sighed and just truly enjoyed one another's presence. It felt good these 4 years later to be OK about doing this. Yes, of course, we still miss him and we are truly sorry he is not physically at the table with us because he loved all of us dearly and had great stories to tell! But it's not as painful to pull out the memories now.
When grief is fresh, as I know it is for many of you right now, you are just trying to get from one day to the next, never knowing for sure when a sudden outburst of tears will spring upon you. And pushing it down doesn't make it go away! It will surface! I remember there were days I wasn't sure about going to the grocery store or the post office for fear I'd see or hear something that would drop me to my knees. Not pretty!!
But this week we were able to bravely join one another and remember. My little sister, Cindy, had this idea!! Bless her!!
Writing has been therapy for me for as long as I can remember. Sometimes when we were in the outpatient oncology unit waiting for lab work, waiting for the doctor, waiting for the chemo infusion or in the hospital with a whole 'nother realm of waiting for things...I would write in my spiral notebook journal. I can't explain scientifically how it helped, but it did.
Even in my head it felt like there were scraps of mental notes, pieces of paper fluttering around and then landing, sticking upon the blood brain barrier. I couldn't gather them, sort them yet. I left them there for later.
I read, "God remains with us in these dark places and valleys, even when we feel out of control, lost, and angry." Robert J. Miller, Grief Quest That was good to know and be reminded!
When I was able to write my book, Transitions: A Nurse's Education About Life and Death, in August of 2011, I dedicated the final chapter to those memories. It's titled, My Brother's Keeper. And yes, as I sat there typing away there were moments of slinging snot and tears as I unfurled the pent up mental notes. More than once I'd get up from that spot and usher myself to a secluded hallway and breathe that spiritual Sedona air, call upon my angels, then head back in there and start typing again. I am thankful I did journal those days and nights in 2008 and 2009!!
So, I just want to tell you that wherever you are in your journey: new marriage, unwanted divorce, surprise twins, unwelcome early retirement, The diagnosis, potty-training a puppy....journal!! I promise it helps as you write and it will bless you deep down when you read it years later.
I know without a hint of a doubt that God/Spirit/All That Is, my angels, Jesus, many others were with me in those sometimes very long days and nights with my brother....and with many others over the past 30 years as I sat at their bedsides too.
I continue to believe we are NOT ALONE wherever we are in our Journey. So, to all of you who are facing your first holidays without someone you love, I wrap my virtual arms around you and hold you in my heart and pray you Know you are not alone. I pray you truly feel the Presence of Love sweep across your soul reminding you how very precious you truly are on so many levels!
Love and Peace
Becki
Monday, November 18, 2013
I Am Thankful
It has been written and stated that being grateful is very good for the soul. It tends to free up selfishness, pity for ourselves, envy, and ego...all sorts of 'demons' that dance in our heads from time to time.
It has been witnessed, and heard by me (and others as well) as I sat with many over the years the halo effect that comes upon one you are with when you see and hear and feel the power of unconditional Love in a room.
May was propped up in her hospital bed with a triangle sponge type pillow. She couldn't breathe as well if she was lying down flat. Her heart was weary but her spirit was still very healthy! All her creature comforts surrounded her 'nest'. A Dutch girl handmade quilt was at the foot of the bed. Ivory eyelet and crocheted pillow slips that she had made in the 50's covered her favorite feather pillows. Her orange tabby cat, Whiskers, sat in her antique rocker in gingham upholstery next to the door in case he needed to make an escape when more visitors arrived. At times he hid under the bed when the great-grands came over.
May had sent word to her congregation at the church, her quilting group, women's prayer group, family, friends, and neighbors that she was dying and if they wanted to see her while she could still talk they best be coming within the week. And that they did.
"Why wait till I'm dressed up in that casket to pay their respects?! I'd like to see and hear them now. Bring me a rose today, not later! I can let them know if I need to quit talking and rest and they can just give me a smile, or give me a gentle hug."
And they were so respectful of her wishes, quietly tiptoeing into her space until she hollered the best she could, "Get on in here, I'm not gone yet. Let's put on those Happy Goodman Family albums. Pull up that folding chair and gather around and sing for me.
Sit here and let me tell you what you have meant to me all these years."
Some of her friends would tell me as she was visiting with others about all she had done for others in her lifetime without a proud bone in her body...simply humble and eager to make a cake, fix a pot of soup with cornbread, babysit a child after the school bus dropped them off to an empty house, visit the nursing home,...the list was endless.
I am thankful!! Thankful for all these patients, their families, their visitors, their education they have given me over the past 30 some odd years. They reminded me that We Are One Human Family. I taught them about comfort care, medication side effects, safety measures, skin care, etc. And they taught me about Life and Death. Oh! And that we are all precious in God's eyes. He sees better than we do!!
What about you today? Do you know someone you need to make a call to, send a card to, go sit on the porch with them and say to them how much you appreciate them in your life? Go on, go do it!! They will be so thankful you did!!
Peace and Love to all
Becki
It has been witnessed, and heard by me (and others as well) as I sat with many over the years the halo effect that comes upon one you are with when you see and hear and feel the power of unconditional Love in a room.
May was propped up in her hospital bed with a triangle sponge type pillow. She couldn't breathe as well if she was lying down flat. Her heart was weary but her spirit was still very healthy! All her creature comforts surrounded her 'nest'. A Dutch girl handmade quilt was at the foot of the bed. Ivory eyelet and crocheted pillow slips that she had made in the 50's covered her favorite feather pillows. Her orange tabby cat, Whiskers, sat in her antique rocker in gingham upholstery next to the door in case he needed to make an escape when more visitors arrived. At times he hid under the bed when the great-grands came over.
May had sent word to her congregation at the church, her quilting group, women's prayer group, family, friends, and neighbors that she was dying and if they wanted to see her while she could still talk they best be coming within the week. And that they did.
"Why wait till I'm dressed up in that casket to pay their respects?! I'd like to see and hear them now. Bring me a rose today, not later! I can let them know if I need to quit talking and rest and they can just give me a smile, or give me a gentle hug."
And they were so respectful of her wishes, quietly tiptoeing into her space until she hollered the best she could, "Get on in here, I'm not gone yet. Let's put on those Happy Goodman Family albums. Pull up that folding chair and gather around and sing for me.
Sit here and let me tell you what you have meant to me all these years."
Some of her friends would tell me as she was visiting with others about all she had done for others in her lifetime without a proud bone in her body...simply humble and eager to make a cake, fix a pot of soup with cornbread, babysit a child after the school bus dropped them off to an empty house, visit the nursing home,...the list was endless.
I am thankful!! Thankful for all these patients, their families, their visitors, their education they have given me over the past 30 some odd years. They reminded me that We Are One Human Family. I taught them about comfort care, medication side effects, safety measures, skin care, etc. And they taught me about Life and Death. Oh! And that we are all precious in God's eyes. He sees better than we do!!
What about you today? Do you know someone you need to make a call to, send a card to, go sit on the porch with them and say to them how much you appreciate them in your life? Go on, go do it!! They will be so thankful you did!!
Peace and Love to all
Becki
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Golden Footprints
Last week we lost two dear friends in a plane crash. They were such an amazing couple, always doing for others!!! I was honored to speak at their Celebration of Life ceremony along with three others. Here is what I had to say.
Scripture tells us that one day one of the teachers of the law came and heard Jesus visiting with some of the Sadducees and then asked Jesus, "Of all the commandments which is the most important?"
"The most important one", answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these."
Today's language -- Love God, Love One Another!
And you see, loving one another is just the natural flow of our love of God. This is how we 'flesh out' our declared love.
Ivan and Adina did this. They indeed loved God and family and friends and employees and community. Their examples for all of us remind us that we do well to care for others, care for one another.
One day a few years ago I was visiting someone in the nursing home. While walking to her room, I glanced up and saw Ivan coming down the hallway. I said, "Hi Ivan! What are you doing here?" He was visiting a dear lady whom he had known as a child. He had heard her health was failing.
I knew this woman and stopped by after my other visit. She smiled and said, "Did you see Ivan? He was here and prayed with me." She was so pleased.
Ivan was a very busy business man! Yet, he made the effort, took the time to bless others. And he did this without fanfare, without desire of recognition, without wanting a pat on the back. It just was who he was.
Adina was just as benevolent. Quietly, she did for others without requiring attention for doing it. Both of them were involved with serving causes that helped those in need.
Many years ago I was giving chemo to a cowboy patient of mine, one of my favorites. He got quiet and then asked me if I'd thought about what kind of footprints I wanted to leave on Earth. He said he had been thinking about this since he had been diagnosed with cancer and then again when he and his wife attended a funeral service for a neighbor. He said that man was always doing something for somebody else: giving them milk from his dairy, giving them fresh tomatoes from his garden, stopping to help anyone who had a flat tire...the list goes on. He said there were so many wanting to get up in that service and tell what this man had done for them. He said he started thinking about who might stand up for him.
He went on to tell me about how he would go to church and sit on the back pew and only give a couple of dollars and then 'high tail it out of there' before the preacher reached the back pew after the sermon was over. And that he imagined that his neighbor to the west of his farm only heard him cussing his cows and that he wasn't too good about telling his wife or his children that he loved them or appreciated them. He said he would hide when his mother-n-law came over for a visit.
He said, "Becki, I think I'm going to drive over to my neighbor's house and thank him for chopping the ice on my pond last winter when I didn't have the strength to swing an axe. He just got out there in those freezing temperatures and did that for me without saying a word. I hope I'd done the same for him. And I'm going to start having supper with my kids and my wife at the table instead of eating on my Roy Rogers TV tray in front of the television. They are good kids and I need to tell them so and that goes for the wife as well. But to be honest with ya about warming up to my Mother-n-law real soon. That'll take some time. And I'm going to go to that church house and sit up closer to the front and give that preacher more money and let him shake my hand."
I pulled him up close after I finished giving the chemo and told him that I thought he had just left Golden Footprints in that outpatient oncology unit that day. All the other patients and their families were blotting their eyes. Samuel just got up, put his sweat stained cowboy hat on, nodded at each family and headed to the elevator.
In my eyes, Ivan and Adina also left Golden Footprints here: in our little hometown of Pryor, Oklahoma, across the continents to a mission they supported, and in all our hearts. They especially left the best of examples to their four sons. I can already see they will continue leaving exemplary footprints as well.
We, dear ones, are beautiful souls who are here for a very brief time even if we live to be 110. We are here learning how to love one another more, continue growing ever nearer to God.
I couldn't help but wonder what they would say from their new vantage point.
Perhaps:
Love one another unconditionally!
Cling to nothing in this material world. For the only thing we take with us is the love woven into our soul's DNA, if you will, of how we have treated one another.
Never doubt that you are here with great purpose. No one is accidentally born.
Forgive others, forgive yourself. It's healing.
Get to know God!! You will never regret that.
Scripture tells us that one day one of the teachers of the law came and heard Jesus visiting with some of the Sadducees and then asked Jesus, "Of all the commandments which is the most important?"
"The most important one", answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these."
Today's language -- Love God, Love One Another!
And you see, loving one another is just the natural flow of our love of God. This is how we 'flesh out' our declared love.
Ivan and Adina did this. They indeed loved God and family and friends and employees and community. Their examples for all of us remind us that we do well to care for others, care for one another.
One day a few years ago I was visiting someone in the nursing home. While walking to her room, I glanced up and saw Ivan coming down the hallway. I said, "Hi Ivan! What are you doing here?" He was visiting a dear lady whom he had known as a child. He had heard her health was failing.
I knew this woman and stopped by after my other visit. She smiled and said, "Did you see Ivan? He was here and prayed with me." She was so pleased.
Ivan was a very busy business man! Yet, he made the effort, took the time to bless others. And he did this without fanfare, without desire of recognition, without wanting a pat on the back. It just was who he was.
Adina was just as benevolent. Quietly, she did for others without requiring attention for doing it. Both of them were involved with serving causes that helped those in need.
Many years ago I was giving chemo to a cowboy patient of mine, one of my favorites. He got quiet and then asked me if I'd thought about what kind of footprints I wanted to leave on Earth. He said he had been thinking about this since he had been diagnosed with cancer and then again when he and his wife attended a funeral service for a neighbor. He said that man was always doing something for somebody else: giving them milk from his dairy, giving them fresh tomatoes from his garden, stopping to help anyone who had a flat tire...the list goes on. He said there were so many wanting to get up in that service and tell what this man had done for them. He said he started thinking about who might stand up for him.
He went on to tell me about how he would go to church and sit on the back pew and only give a couple of dollars and then 'high tail it out of there' before the preacher reached the back pew after the sermon was over. And that he imagined that his neighbor to the west of his farm only heard him cussing his cows and that he wasn't too good about telling his wife or his children that he loved them or appreciated them. He said he would hide when his mother-n-law came over for a visit.
He said, "Becki, I think I'm going to drive over to my neighbor's house and thank him for chopping the ice on my pond last winter when I didn't have the strength to swing an axe. He just got out there in those freezing temperatures and did that for me without saying a word. I hope I'd done the same for him. And I'm going to start having supper with my kids and my wife at the table instead of eating on my Roy Rogers TV tray in front of the television. They are good kids and I need to tell them so and that goes for the wife as well. But to be honest with ya about warming up to my Mother-n-law real soon. That'll take some time. And I'm going to go to that church house and sit up closer to the front and give that preacher more money and let him shake my hand."
I pulled him up close after I finished giving the chemo and told him that I thought he had just left Golden Footprints in that outpatient oncology unit that day. All the other patients and their families were blotting their eyes. Samuel just got up, put his sweat stained cowboy hat on, nodded at each family and headed to the elevator.
In my eyes, Ivan and Adina also left Golden Footprints here: in our little hometown of Pryor, Oklahoma, across the continents to a mission they supported, and in all our hearts. They especially left the best of examples to their four sons. I can already see they will continue leaving exemplary footprints as well.
We, dear ones, are beautiful souls who are here for a very brief time even if we live to be 110. We are here learning how to love one another more, continue growing ever nearer to God.
I couldn't help but wonder what they would say from their new vantage point.
Perhaps:
Love one another unconditionally!
Cling to nothing in this material world. For the only thing we take with us is the love woven into our soul's DNA, if you will, of how we have treated one another.
Never doubt that you are here with great purpose. No one is accidentally born.
Forgive others, forgive yourself. It's healing.
Get to know God!! You will never regret that.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
WE ARE ONE
This Thursday, October 24th, is Global Oneness Day and United Nations Day. I love this!! Why?
Patients have taught me over and over that as we are dying, we are the same. Whether I am climbing marble steps to a mansion or concrete blocks to a mobile home, the needs when I arrive are essentially the same.
These are some of the questions they ask:
Can you keep me comfortable: physically, emotionally, spiritually? Even if I'm still fighting pain in my heart, my soul, my mind?
Does God really love even me? Even if I'm not perfect? Even if I'm a society outcast? Even if I'm still trying to forgive someone? Even if I haven't been in a church or synagogue in years?
Will I be alone when I die or will there be others from the other side come? Even if I'm not sure? Even if I.....?
You see, it doesn't matter how much money we have or how big our house is or how many degrees we've earned, or how poor we are or if we are homeless or if we haven't been educated. We are all connected. WE are all One Human Family.
We are on such a tiny planet when you consider the heavens and the vastness of all that is 'out there'. One very young man asked me one day, "Do you think there are aliens? And if you do, do you think they wonder at our violence to one another?"
We must wrap our hearts and brains around the notion of caring for all: each and every person, Mother Earth: her animals, the plant kingdom, the soil, the air, the waters, the rocks! We are the keepers, the guardians..yes, each one of us!
What will it take for us to lay our weapons down? I don't know for sure but I think it will include a massive scale of Love. I just know that as we die it doesn't matter if we are Democrat or Republican, Baptist or Jew, American or Aborigines, vegan or meat-eater...
We all have a heart, we all bleed, we all need Love. We all need to give Love.
Thursday pull out the kids' globe or get out the giant National Geographic World Map and then close your eyes and point to a spot. Open your eyes and then pray for that nation, study her people, etc. And teach the children to do the same.
God Loves Everyone!
He's got the whole world in His hands, He's got the whole wide world in His Hands...He's got you and me and brother in His hands, He's got the whole world in His hands. That what we sang in our little country church when I was a youngster. I still believe that!!
Patients have taught me over and over that as we are dying, we are the same. Whether I am climbing marble steps to a mansion or concrete blocks to a mobile home, the needs when I arrive are essentially the same.
These are some of the questions they ask:
Can you keep me comfortable: physically, emotionally, spiritually? Even if I'm still fighting pain in my heart, my soul, my mind?
Does God really love even me? Even if I'm not perfect? Even if I'm a society outcast? Even if I'm still trying to forgive someone? Even if I haven't been in a church or synagogue in years?
Will I be alone when I die or will there be others from the other side come? Even if I'm not sure? Even if I.....?
You see, it doesn't matter how much money we have or how big our house is or how many degrees we've earned, or how poor we are or if we are homeless or if we haven't been educated. We are all connected. WE are all One Human Family.
We are on such a tiny planet when you consider the heavens and the vastness of all that is 'out there'. One very young man asked me one day, "Do you think there are aliens? And if you do, do you think they wonder at our violence to one another?"
We must wrap our hearts and brains around the notion of caring for all: each and every person, Mother Earth: her animals, the plant kingdom, the soil, the air, the waters, the rocks! We are the keepers, the guardians..yes, each one of us!
What will it take for us to lay our weapons down? I don't know for sure but I think it will include a massive scale of Love. I just know that as we die it doesn't matter if we are Democrat or Republican, Baptist or Jew, American or Aborigines, vegan or meat-eater...
We all have a heart, we all bleed, we all need Love. We all need to give Love.
Thursday pull out the kids' globe or get out the giant National Geographic World Map and then close your eyes and point to a spot. Open your eyes and then pray for that nation, study her people, etc. And teach the children to do the same.
God Loves Everyone!
He's got the whole world in His hands, He's got the whole wide world in His Hands...He's got you and me and brother in His hands, He's got the whole world in His hands. That what we sang in our little country church when I was a youngster. I still believe that!!
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
No Guarantees
I was on my way for my first visit with Susan. It was her first full day being home, away from the hospital in seven months. Her primary nurse and medical team at the hospital had requested that we "become acquainted" since we would be located closer to her for minor problems or questions.
She was not exactly the patient I wanted to visit. I wasn't sure how I was going to emotionally deal with this one. She was our daughter's age. It had been predicted the night of her accident that she would never live long enough to get to a major trauma center. But, she did.
I was sorting these thoughts and emotions around in my head and my heart as I drove to her Mom's home. A well-groomed black and silver schnauzer answered the doorbell with barking and bouncing and dancing in circles until Susan's Mom opened the door.
"Come on in! You will have to excuse us today. We are getting adjusted to settling down with hospital equipment, a bed, oxygen, etc. being delivered. We only arrived home a few hours ago and there have been people coming and going, bringing food, delivering medications,...well, you know all this I'm sure. This isn't your first rodeo. Please forgive my rambling and come inside." She pleasantly said.
"Susan Honey, this is the nurse from the agency your doctor called about coming to see us and check on you and getting to know each other. If you two will excuse me I need to get some linens out of the dryer for that hospital bed. We prefer sheets that are soft and pretty. We've had enough of that white and scratchy kind!"
So over the next hour I explained what we would be doing each visit, how we could be of assistance to Susan and her Mom, that we would check her vital signs and educate her about her medications, safety measures,...the routine introduction. Susan smiled and nodded and was polite. But her eyes would really light up when her little brother, about three years old, appeared in the room and would crawl up as close to her as he could to give her a kiss and then she would bend over slightly and pull him near and air kiss him too. He behaved as if his sister had always been in a wheelchair, dancing around it and touching her ever so often to 'connect' again with an exchange of gentle hugs.
The noise level was up there with the barking, screaming back and forth of family members and visitors, and the delivery men. I was thinking it may have been this noisy before the accident, with a not too extraordinary family full of love and life just living this time and space call Today...Now.
It's true. We aren't guaranteed with the birth certificate of our children that they will outlive us, always be healthy or happy, and become adults with the careers we'd hoped for or dreamed about.
Several weeks later Susan's Mom was visiting with me over paperwork and ice tea. "Becki, it is good to make time to rock a baby without hurrying, answer pleas for another story with a smile, go outside and play with the toddlers and not worry about when we will get the laundry done. Whether they are fighting an illness, an injury, or a heartache or even if they are fit as a fiddle, they all need to be reminded of how precious they are to us. And that they are here with great purpose. No one is an accident. I'm not sure that we can hug them too much."
She was not exactly the patient I wanted to visit. I wasn't sure how I was going to emotionally deal with this one. She was our daughter's age. It had been predicted the night of her accident that she would never live long enough to get to a major trauma center. But, she did.
I was sorting these thoughts and emotions around in my head and my heart as I drove to her Mom's home. A well-groomed black and silver schnauzer answered the doorbell with barking and bouncing and dancing in circles until Susan's Mom opened the door.
"Come on in! You will have to excuse us today. We are getting adjusted to settling down with hospital equipment, a bed, oxygen, etc. being delivered. We only arrived home a few hours ago and there have been people coming and going, bringing food, delivering medications,...well, you know all this I'm sure. This isn't your first rodeo. Please forgive my rambling and come inside." She pleasantly said.
"Susan Honey, this is the nurse from the agency your doctor called about coming to see us and check on you and getting to know each other. If you two will excuse me I need to get some linens out of the dryer for that hospital bed. We prefer sheets that are soft and pretty. We've had enough of that white and scratchy kind!"
So over the next hour I explained what we would be doing each visit, how we could be of assistance to Susan and her Mom, that we would check her vital signs and educate her about her medications, safety measures,...the routine introduction. Susan smiled and nodded and was polite. But her eyes would really light up when her little brother, about three years old, appeared in the room and would crawl up as close to her as he could to give her a kiss and then she would bend over slightly and pull him near and air kiss him too. He behaved as if his sister had always been in a wheelchair, dancing around it and touching her ever so often to 'connect' again with an exchange of gentle hugs.
The noise level was up there with the barking, screaming back and forth of family members and visitors, and the delivery men. I was thinking it may have been this noisy before the accident, with a not too extraordinary family full of love and life just living this time and space call Today...Now.
It's true. We aren't guaranteed with the birth certificate of our children that they will outlive us, always be healthy or happy, and become adults with the careers we'd hoped for or dreamed about.
Several weeks later Susan's Mom was visiting with me over paperwork and ice tea. "Becki, it is good to make time to rock a baby without hurrying, answer pleas for another story with a smile, go outside and play with the toddlers and not worry about when we will get the laundry done. Whether they are fighting an illness, an injury, or a heartache or even if they are fit as a fiddle, they all need to be reminded of how precious they are to us. And that they are here with great purpose. No one is an accident. I'm not sure that we can hug them too much."
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Always Connected
One of the very best gifts from the speaking engagement with the NHNE-NDE (New Heaven New Earth - Near Death Experiences) lovely souls I did in Sedona, Arizona last year that resulted in a you-tube video, is the wonderful emails I receive from some who need to ask, or need to share, about a NDE or how to sit at the bedside of a loved one, or one like this one I just recently received. I asked this young woman if I might share this story with you. She replied that I could share this with anyone I felt could benefit from it & definitely with anyone that might be able to shed some light on this subject.
Her elderly Father has Alzheimer's/Dementia and is now in a nursing home. He varies from day to day on his ability to have clear conversation. He no longer remembers family members or their names. He has several children and if prompted by someone who mentions a first name of a child, he will smile proudly and add their middle name.
Her Mother passed away 10 years ago. This loss caused severe depression and withdrawal for her Father. She said she believes that this was what sent him spiraling into his current condition. Physically he is healthy, mental...not so much.
Approximately four weeks ago, her youngest sister, the baby of the family passed away very unexpectedly in her sleep between 2 and 3am. on Sunday morning. She was in her thirty's with no known health issues.
At 6:30am on that Sunday morning, her Father's caregiver went in to wake him up for breakfast. He was very agitated, crying and upset. She asked him what was wrong and he began to tell the caregiver, in detail, about the death of this, "tall, lovely, young lady with long, dark hair". The caregiver, knowing nothing about what had happened only hours before, comforted him. She asked him if this frightened him. He replied, "No, it was beautiful."
The family had a meeting the day their sister passed and had agreed that there was no need for their Father to ever know that his youngest daughter had passed.
Monday a granddaughter went to visit her Grandfather and found him visibly upset as he began to tell her about the passing of the tall, lovely young lady with the long dark hair. She asked him how he knew this. He looked at her and said, "I was there!"
Tuesday two brothers went to visit their Father. he told them the same things he had told the caregiver and his granddaughter. This time he told his sons the same story but with much greater detail than before. They did an audio recording of some of his conversation.
Wednesday the author of this sharing visited her Father (with one of her brothers) for the first time since their sister's passing. She writes this, "As I approached him, sitting in the nursing home dining room, I came up from behind him. His jaw was tight and clenched and as he turned to me I could see that he had been crying. He immediately asked me if I knew what had happened to that girl. I stayed with him several hours both captivated and stunned by his story. I wanted to stay to try to lend comfort and support for him but I also had to hear every detail he had to offer, especially since our sister's death is still a mystery to us. He told me in vivid detail that she had been out with her husband for dinner for about 5-6 hours prior to going home and going to bed the night/morning she passed. He told me that she passed in her sleep and was not aware of what was happening. He gave details about her husband's physical and verbal reaction when he found her not breathing. He even showed me the exact position she was lying in at the time she passed. (I was not aware of the legitimacy of these details at the time of our conversation, but did later verify this with my sister's husband to his great shock.) Dad said, "She was gone, and when I say gone, I mean she was damn gone! There wasn't a damn thing anybody could do about it!" As his story continued, he explained to me that he was standing, talking to, 'peoople that he knew and that knew him by name'. He said he looked out and saw her leaving...as being in the water, the ocean, as though she was being pulled out by a rapid tide. He explained this in a verbal and physical manner that I can not properly explain in written words. With tears he explains that he wanted to go get her, to save her, but knew there was no way to reach her. He explains he watched this until she was so far out he could barely see her. He says he then left and doesn't ever want to return to that place again."
She continued to say that during part of their conversation with their Father he seemed for a long period of time to be searching for their sister's name. Finally her brother said her name and their Dad sat up straight, saying, Yes! and then repeating her name, the name he always called her.
She said that hearing her name seemed to give him even more clarity and he once again broke down, crying. During some conversations with various people, he also spoke of his daughter, as she was leaving, as having been with a very cute little boy and stated that he believes that the little boy is probably dead too. She said that she can't make a connection to anything with this particular detail.
She said that these conversations have also been intertwined with their Dad telling them what he felt and thought that this daughter that passed was a wonderful, giving young lady.
On the day I received this email she said that two days ago she saw her Dad and his memory or need to discuss this had faded. She said that she has never brought the subject up to him but has discussed it (mostly listened) whenever he brings it up. She said that during their most recent conversation he asked her how many children she had. She told him and wide-eyed, he exclaimed, "7?" And she said and you have 11.
"Yes," he said, and with tears, "but now I've lost one, the tall, beautiful girl with long, dark hair. Did you know her?"
She closed with the following:
"My Dad has extreme difficulty with all aspects of memory, both recent and distant now. He also can not carry on a detailed, coherent conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. He can not remember any events and absolutely no details even a day later. His clarity, detail, understanding and length of time that he was able to retain and retell this story is completely astounding to me."
I, too, sat spell-bound as I read her account. I wrote back and thanked her for sharing this and expressed my condolences for their loss. I mentioned Raymond Moody's book titled, Glimpses of Eternity, Sharing A Loved One's Passage From This Life To The Next. Perhaps her Dad's spirit was with her sister.
I do not pretend to be an expert in these matters. I have had patients and some of my own family members share NDE's, but none like this.
A friend of mine said that this story is very illustrative of the fact that those who have Alzheimer's are not as out of touch as it might seem. They are simply active on another plane and not tied into this realm. My friend believes that this daughter who passed did let her Dad know that all is well...and it is.
Her elderly Father has Alzheimer's/Dementia and is now in a nursing home. He varies from day to day on his ability to have clear conversation. He no longer remembers family members or their names. He has several children and if prompted by someone who mentions a first name of a child, he will smile proudly and add their middle name.
Her Mother passed away 10 years ago. This loss caused severe depression and withdrawal for her Father. She said she believes that this was what sent him spiraling into his current condition. Physically he is healthy, mental...not so much.
Approximately four weeks ago, her youngest sister, the baby of the family passed away very unexpectedly in her sleep between 2 and 3am. on Sunday morning. She was in her thirty's with no known health issues.
At 6:30am on that Sunday morning, her Father's caregiver went in to wake him up for breakfast. He was very agitated, crying and upset. She asked him what was wrong and he began to tell the caregiver, in detail, about the death of this, "tall, lovely, young lady with long, dark hair". The caregiver, knowing nothing about what had happened only hours before, comforted him. She asked him if this frightened him. He replied, "No, it was beautiful."
The family had a meeting the day their sister passed and had agreed that there was no need for their Father to ever know that his youngest daughter had passed.
Monday a granddaughter went to visit her Grandfather and found him visibly upset as he began to tell her about the passing of the tall, lovely young lady with the long dark hair. She asked him how he knew this. He looked at her and said, "I was there!"
Tuesday two brothers went to visit their Father. he told them the same things he had told the caregiver and his granddaughter. This time he told his sons the same story but with much greater detail than before. They did an audio recording of some of his conversation.
Wednesday the author of this sharing visited her Father (with one of her brothers) for the first time since their sister's passing. She writes this, "As I approached him, sitting in the nursing home dining room, I came up from behind him. His jaw was tight and clenched and as he turned to me I could see that he had been crying. He immediately asked me if I knew what had happened to that girl. I stayed with him several hours both captivated and stunned by his story. I wanted to stay to try to lend comfort and support for him but I also had to hear every detail he had to offer, especially since our sister's death is still a mystery to us. He told me in vivid detail that she had been out with her husband for dinner for about 5-6 hours prior to going home and going to bed the night/morning she passed. He told me that she passed in her sleep and was not aware of what was happening. He gave details about her husband's physical and verbal reaction when he found her not breathing. He even showed me the exact position she was lying in at the time she passed. (I was not aware of the legitimacy of these details at the time of our conversation, but did later verify this with my sister's husband to his great shock.) Dad said, "She was gone, and when I say gone, I mean she was damn gone! There wasn't a damn thing anybody could do about it!" As his story continued, he explained to me that he was standing, talking to, 'peoople that he knew and that knew him by name'. He said he looked out and saw her leaving...as being in the water, the ocean, as though she was being pulled out by a rapid tide. He explained this in a verbal and physical manner that I can not properly explain in written words. With tears he explains that he wanted to go get her, to save her, but knew there was no way to reach her. He explains he watched this until she was so far out he could barely see her. He says he then left and doesn't ever want to return to that place again."
She continued to say that during part of their conversation with their Father he seemed for a long period of time to be searching for their sister's name. Finally her brother said her name and their Dad sat up straight, saying, Yes! and then repeating her name, the name he always called her.
She said that hearing her name seemed to give him even more clarity and he once again broke down, crying. During some conversations with various people, he also spoke of his daughter, as she was leaving, as having been with a very cute little boy and stated that he believes that the little boy is probably dead too. She said that she can't make a connection to anything with this particular detail.
She said that these conversations have also been intertwined with their Dad telling them what he felt and thought that this daughter that passed was a wonderful, giving young lady.
On the day I received this email she said that two days ago she saw her Dad and his memory or need to discuss this had faded. She said that she has never brought the subject up to him but has discussed it (mostly listened) whenever he brings it up. She said that during their most recent conversation he asked her how many children she had. She told him and wide-eyed, he exclaimed, "7?" And she said and you have 11.
"Yes," he said, and with tears, "but now I've lost one, the tall, beautiful girl with long, dark hair. Did you know her?"
She closed with the following:
"My Dad has extreme difficulty with all aspects of memory, both recent and distant now. He also can not carry on a detailed, coherent conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. He can not remember any events and absolutely no details even a day later. His clarity, detail, understanding and length of time that he was able to retain and retell this story is completely astounding to me."
I, too, sat spell-bound as I read her account. I wrote back and thanked her for sharing this and expressed my condolences for their loss. I mentioned Raymond Moody's book titled, Glimpses of Eternity, Sharing A Loved One's Passage From This Life To The Next. Perhaps her Dad's spirit was with her sister.
I do not pretend to be an expert in these matters. I have had patients and some of my own family members share NDE's, but none like this.
A friend of mine said that this story is very illustrative of the fact that those who have Alzheimer's are not as out of touch as it might seem. They are simply active on another plane and not tied into this realm. My friend believes that this daughter who passed did let her Dad know that all is well...and it is.
Friday, September 27, 2013
A Visit
I love walking outside in comparison to indoors. So I walk for an hour everyday possible in our northeast Oklahoma town up and down the streets in a residential section and downtown on main street. I'm a waver, a tree-hugger, a nodder. Some drivers wave back and some stare at me like I'm from Mars. Some smile and honk their horns and some frown and make faces. God love us all!!
One day last week a gentleman stopped his car right on the street, put it in park and began to visit. He introduced himself and told me about how much his wife enjoys my articles. He said she wasn't in the best of health and one day told him she sure would love it if I'd visit her one day. How would you turn that invitation down!! He tore off a scrap of the adjacent brown paper bag in his front seat and wrote down her name and their address and phone number. He thanked me, put his car in drive and sped away.
I carried the little piece paper tightly in my hand.
I called him a few days later and made an appointment with them. Today was the day. What a cutie!! She has soft white hair, a little bit of difficulty walking, a very gentle voice and a warm smile. We settled into the rockers in their living room. I gave her my book and thought perhaps I'd stay a few minutes to chat and then hurry on to my list of Very Important Things to Do!
She thanked me for the book and then began to explain that she loves my patients' stories and how much they mean to her. She said, "I'm not afraid to die."
That's when I realized that this visit wasn't going to be a 'come and go' one. I settled in some more. Her husband excused himself to go see a friend. I think he knew what was coming.
She shared about her health, her childhood, her children, her talent of painting, showing me several really very nice pieces. She pointed to one nature setting. "See the mushrooms in this one? My mother told me I wasn't through with this painting until I added the mushrooms."
"Your Mother?" I always pay attention to comments like this and respect them! So many have shared with me before of deceased relatives occasionally speaking to them.
She nodded.
"Your Mother speaks to you?"
"Yes, she does. We were very close." She affirmed and then went back to describing her work with the hidden mushrooms, a squirrel's nest, a hummingbird, an owl woven into the art with just a hint of where they were hiding. Each piece was serene and inviting.
"You see Becki, we all have talents given to us from God. Yours is in how you sit with people as they are dying and your writing. Mine is painting. We are suppose to use our talents.
I want you to know I pray for you and your success. I want you to know I appreciate your talents." She smiled while patting my hands.
I bent over and gathered her up close and hugged the whey out of her! "Thank you!"
We prayed together for her strength, humor, peace and all she needed for the rest of her days.
I drove home smiling at the Very Important Things to Do List idea. Sometimes Spirit/God/All That Is adds to our list a surprise.
One day last week a gentleman stopped his car right on the street, put it in park and began to visit. He introduced himself and told me about how much his wife enjoys my articles. He said she wasn't in the best of health and one day told him she sure would love it if I'd visit her one day. How would you turn that invitation down!! He tore off a scrap of the adjacent brown paper bag in his front seat and wrote down her name and their address and phone number. He thanked me, put his car in drive and sped away.
I carried the little piece paper tightly in my hand.
I called him a few days later and made an appointment with them. Today was the day. What a cutie!! She has soft white hair, a little bit of difficulty walking, a very gentle voice and a warm smile. We settled into the rockers in their living room. I gave her my book and thought perhaps I'd stay a few minutes to chat and then hurry on to my list of Very Important Things to Do!
She thanked me for the book and then began to explain that she loves my patients' stories and how much they mean to her. She said, "I'm not afraid to die."
That's when I realized that this visit wasn't going to be a 'come and go' one. I settled in some more. Her husband excused himself to go see a friend. I think he knew what was coming.
She shared about her health, her childhood, her children, her talent of painting, showing me several really very nice pieces. She pointed to one nature setting. "See the mushrooms in this one? My mother told me I wasn't through with this painting until I added the mushrooms."
"Your Mother?" I always pay attention to comments like this and respect them! So many have shared with me before of deceased relatives occasionally speaking to them.
She nodded.
"Your Mother speaks to you?"
"Yes, she does. We were very close." She affirmed and then went back to describing her work with the hidden mushrooms, a squirrel's nest, a hummingbird, an owl woven into the art with just a hint of where they were hiding. Each piece was serene and inviting.
"You see Becki, we all have talents given to us from God. Yours is in how you sit with people as they are dying and your writing. Mine is painting. We are suppose to use our talents.
I want you to know I pray for you and your success. I want you to know I appreciate your talents." She smiled while patting my hands.
I bent over and gathered her up close and hugged the whey out of her! "Thank you!"
We prayed together for her strength, humor, peace and all she needed for the rest of her days.
I drove home smiling at the Very Important Things to Do List idea. Sometimes Spirit/God/All That Is adds to our list a surprise.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
The Waiting Room
Her Mom called to see if I could assist with her with getting her daughter to the doctor for an assessment. She needed to get to work and I was more than willing to help. You see I've known this young lady since the day she was born.
She is having some emotional/mental/self-destructive problems. You know, the kind that no one likes to talk about. And that is one of the reasons I'm sharing this!! Mental/Emotional illness(s) need to have a new awareness day so we can talk about it and we can get help for loved ones and yes! help for those on the street and under the bridges as well!!
Let's call her Sabrina.
Sabrina has been a delight always. She loves children, she loves soccer, she loves movies and laughing with friends. She has a huge heart and always stops to open doors for elderly strangers, loves cats, loves family.
She also struggles with reading and learns best in an alternative learning setting. She started getting tattoos as soon as she was legally able. Then she got nose rings, gauges in her earlobes, bellybutton ring, dyed her hair blue, then blonde, then black and shaves it off in odd places.
Then one day her Mom called to share that Sabrina had started cutting herself. She was abusing alcohol and crying more than normal. She was displaying anger outbursts as well.
She did have good days but the not so good days were outnumbering the good ones. She couldn't keep a job. She couldn't sleep.
She told her Mom she needed to drink until she passed out so she could sleep.
She now has asked for help. "Why am I so angry?" "Why do I want to hurt myself?"
"Why does the pain in my soul calm down only if I create a worse pain by hurting myself?"
So here we sat in the waiting room for 6 hours. Believe me, I'm not complaining. The staff was exceptional. They were kind and non-judgmental acting to everyone who arrived for an assessment.
We witnessed so much in those few hours: mothers sitting with daughters, daughters sitting with mothers, friends sitting with friends, some all alone, some in wheelchairs with blank stares.
Coffee was offered and even snacks. Private rooms were available. And a security officer was standing behind the desk with the employees.
Some were crying and some were speechless. There were those who were rocking back and forth, pacing in circles, or speaking of the deceased wife, pointing to a nature painting, saying, "See, there she is now. Isn't she beautiful? What a gal! ....Say what time does this plane leave?"
Sabrina was dressed in torn clothes, hadn't showered in days, no make-up, had a black eye and bruised ribs from running into a doorway trying to avoid "someone in my bedroom that I can't see". But she was the one who greeted everyone who nodded in her direction. She listened to the guy about his wife and smiled at him. She chatted with the fellow who asked her what she was doing in this room when others just looked away. She helped with holding a door open for one arriving in a wheel chair. She thanked everyone who worked there when they were assisting her with paperwork. She thanked them for the coffee they gave her. She thanked them for the sandwich and chips after we'd been there several hours.
She visited with me about her love of family and the desire to 'get well'. She thanked me for being with her and driving so many miles to be with her. She spoke of regret for those she had disappointed.
And then as they told her it was time to be admitted and see the doctor and stay awhile she hugged me and wept. I thought I might explode with heartache and love for this child all at once. But I was calm and told her I was so proud of her decision to find healing and wholeness. I walked to my car as bravely as I could and waited till I had driven several miles before I tried to tell God/Spirit/All That Is how grateful I was for her admission for help. I prayed for her precious wounded parts to be brought to Light and for the healing to begin.
I called her dear Mother and shared all and we wept together and expressed thanksgiving as well for her courage to seek the help.
Having an emotional or mental illness is not a sin, no more than high blood pressure or diabetes, or cancer is.
Many who are drug addicts and/or alcoholics as so due to the great desire to self-medicate their inner pain.
Judge no one! It could be any of us!
She is having some emotional/mental/self-destructive problems. You know, the kind that no one likes to talk about. And that is one of the reasons I'm sharing this!! Mental/Emotional illness(s) need to have a new awareness day so we can talk about it and we can get help for loved ones and yes! help for those on the street and under the bridges as well!!
Let's call her Sabrina.
Sabrina has been a delight always. She loves children, she loves soccer, she loves movies and laughing with friends. She has a huge heart and always stops to open doors for elderly strangers, loves cats, loves family.
She also struggles with reading and learns best in an alternative learning setting. She started getting tattoos as soon as she was legally able. Then she got nose rings, gauges in her earlobes, bellybutton ring, dyed her hair blue, then blonde, then black and shaves it off in odd places.
Then one day her Mom called to share that Sabrina had started cutting herself. She was abusing alcohol and crying more than normal. She was displaying anger outbursts as well.
She did have good days but the not so good days were outnumbering the good ones. She couldn't keep a job. She couldn't sleep.
She told her Mom she needed to drink until she passed out so she could sleep.
She now has asked for help. "Why am I so angry?" "Why do I want to hurt myself?"
"Why does the pain in my soul calm down only if I create a worse pain by hurting myself?"
So here we sat in the waiting room for 6 hours. Believe me, I'm not complaining. The staff was exceptional. They were kind and non-judgmental acting to everyone who arrived for an assessment.
We witnessed so much in those few hours: mothers sitting with daughters, daughters sitting with mothers, friends sitting with friends, some all alone, some in wheelchairs with blank stares.
Coffee was offered and even snacks. Private rooms were available. And a security officer was standing behind the desk with the employees.
Some were crying and some were speechless. There were those who were rocking back and forth, pacing in circles, or speaking of the deceased wife, pointing to a nature painting, saying, "See, there she is now. Isn't she beautiful? What a gal! ....Say what time does this plane leave?"
Sabrina was dressed in torn clothes, hadn't showered in days, no make-up, had a black eye and bruised ribs from running into a doorway trying to avoid "someone in my bedroom that I can't see". But she was the one who greeted everyone who nodded in her direction. She listened to the guy about his wife and smiled at him. She chatted with the fellow who asked her what she was doing in this room when others just looked away. She helped with holding a door open for one arriving in a wheel chair. She thanked everyone who worked there when they were assisting her with paperwork. She thanked them for the coffee they gave her. She thanked them for the sandwich and chips after we'd been there several hours.
She visited with me about her love of family and the desire to 'get well'. She thanked me for being with her and driving so many miles to be with her. She spoke of regret for those she had disappointed.
And then as they told her it was time to be admitted and see the doctor and stay awhile she hugged me and wept. I thought I might explode with heartache and love for this child all at once. But I was calm and told her I was so proud of her decision to find healing and wholeness. I walked to my car as bravely as I could and waited till I had driven several miles before I tried to tell God/Spirit/All That Is how grateful I was for her admission for help. I prayed for her precious wounded parts to be brought to Light and for the healing to begin.
I called her dear Mother and shared all and we wept together and expressed thanksgiving as well for her courage to seek the help.
Having an emotional or mental illness is not a sin, no more than high blood pressure or diabetes, or cancer is.
Many who are drug addicts and/or alcoholics as so due to the great desire to self-medicate their inner pain.
Judge no one! It could be any of us!
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Pure-de-Love
She had been coming every day that week for her chemotherapy in August of 1986 to the outpatient chemotherapy department where I was working. This particular day I noticed the color in her face had noticeably improved and she exhibited a 'spring' in her step.
She did not hesitate as she entered the treatment room. She entered boldly and with a sense of purpose! Her ever-present companion and marriage partner of 48 years assisted as she positioned herself on the, anything but comfortable, hospital bed.
"Hey, he's a pretty good nurse, huh?" an attendant in the room remarked to her.
"Oh the best, absolutely the best, whether I'm in the hospital or at home," she answered, grinning proudly and winking. In so doing she exposed the catheter under her collarbone where the medications would be administered.
"Oh, you two!" another patient teased. "What makes it work so well after so long anyway?"
While I slowly gave the prescribed potent drugs, the pampered patient and her husband began to share. He spoke first, "You learn that you can't just take and take. You have to give and give just as much, maybe more."
"True", she nodded in agreement in his direction. "We've had our moments. Why, I've even wanted to knock his block off a couple of times."
Then, her crystal blue eyes stared into a private space. She began to verbalize her feelings carefully, slowly.
"You figure out after a while what's really important. You know, the common sense stuff, like learning you can live just fine without credit cards. And you let the housework go for a day if he wants you to go fishing with him. You can't just up and get a divorce if you don't agree on something. You take time to talk. You make time to listen. You take time to be alone and you make time to be together."
With her worn beige handbag propped between his knees and never more than two feet from her side, I watched him gaze at her with pride.
A nurse's aide step next to me and whispered, "Pure-de-love."
Then, snapping back into the present, she directed a final warning, "You know girls, life is too short to be unhappily married."
"Well, we're through already? Let's get some of that ice cold protein drink from the dietician before we leave, dear. Think I'll try chocolate today. Nothing like a cold drink on a hot august day." She ended our impromptu counseling.
"Chocolate it'll be then, Hon," he answered while zipping her paisley printed dress. "See you girls tomorrow."
Away they walked, arm in arm. Pulling off gloves and disposable gown, I breathed a quick prayer. "Thank you Lord for unscheduled lectures. Please help me refine my listening skills to avoid missing even one of them! Amen"
That evening when I arrived home I hugged my husband with an extra squeeze!!
Becki Hawkins
www.ladyhawkpublishing.com
author of Transitions: A Nurse's Education about Life and Death
She did not hesitate as she entered the treatment room. She entered boldly and with a sense of purpose! Her ever-present companion and marriage partner of 48 years assisted as she positioned herself on the, anything but comfortable, hospital bed.
"Hey, he's a pretty good nurse, huh?" an attendant in the room remarked to her.
"Oh the best, absolutely the best, whether I'm in the hospital or at home," she answered, grinning proudly and winking. In so doing she exposed the catheter under her collarbone where the medications would be administered.
"Oh, you two!" another patient teased. "What makes it work so well after so long anyway?"
While I slowly gave the prescribed potent drugs, the pampered patient and her husband began to share. He spoke first, "You learn that you can't just take and take. You have to give and give just as much, maybe more."
"True", she nodded in agreement in his direction. "We've had our moments. Why, I've even wanted to knock his block off a couple of times."
Then, her crystal blue eyes stared into a private space. She began to verbalize her feelings carefully, slowly.
"You figure out after a while what's really important. You know, the common sense stuff, like learning you can live just fine without credit cards. And you let the housework go for a day if he wants you to go fishing with him. You can't just up and get a divorce if you don't agree on something. You take time to talk. You make time to listen. You take time to be alone and you make time to be together."
With her worn beige handbag propped between his knees and never more than two feet from her side, I watched him gaze at her with pride.
A nurse's aide step next to me and whispered, "Pure-de-love."
Then, snapping back into the present, she directed a final warning, "You know girls, life is too short to be unhappily married."
"Well, we're through already? Let's get some of that ice cold protein drink from the dietician before we leave, dear. Think I'll try chocolate today. Nothing like a cold drink on a hot august day." She ended our impromptu counseling.
"Chocolate it'll be then, Hon," he answered while zipping her paisley printed dress. "See you girls tomorrow."
Away they walked, arm in arm. Pulling off gloves and disposable gown, I breathed a quick prayer. "Thank you Lord for unscheduled lectures. Please help me refine my listening skills to avoid missing even one of them! Amen"
That evening when I arrived home I hugged my husband with an extra squeeze!!
Becki Hawkins
www.ladyhawkpublishing.com
author of Transitions: A Nurse's Education about Life and Death
A Celebration of Life
Our daughter introduced me to a dear friend of hers on Face Book several months ago. She wanted me to get to know her since her husband was fighting an aggressive cancer. She thought that maybe I could read her posts and think of something to say that might be helpful since my career had been in Oncology and Hospice as a registered nurse and chaplain.
What I did, more than anything, was 'listen' to her posts and reply if she asked for a reply. I am amazed that this beautiful young woman displayed such courage, fight, compassion, strength, and yes, even at times, humor, in the many ups and downs these challenges can bring to one's doorsteps.
With her writing I felt I knew the lay of the land where they lived. I could see the terrain, feel the summer heat, and hear the dogs bark with enthusiasm when her beloved would return from a trip to the oncologist. My heart would swell when she poured her heart into her written words.
About eight weeks ago her beloved died or as I like to say, transitioned. She was planning the memorial service and asked if I could share some words of comfort and a prayer at the end of the service she had diligently planned.
I always try to honor the specifics a family requests. Her requests were simply, "Keep it short, please." Because, you see, she had already planned a beautiful service: the music he loved, her own sharing of words, a very close friend's sharing, and a detailed tribute to his life in a video presentation, and the gift of friends who were willing to stand and share remembrances. And with all of this before I spoke, I came to know her beloved even more.
He loved movies, he was brilliant, he was compassionate, he had a great sense of humor, he owned "intense wit", was in love with his dogs, and always, always made integrity the backbone of his life. Person after person stood to speak.
You see, the thing is this: I have attended or spoke at so many services over the years. But this celebration of a life was one of the most touching, unforgettable celebrations I've ever had the honor to attend.
We all will have our day. It's a given. At some hour after we make our own transition, someone will be standing to speak about us. How do you want to be remembered? Truly folks, it's not about our degrees, our connections with movie stars, our china, our cars or our flowerbeds or diamonds! Not that there is anything wrong with any of that. But, at the end of the day it is about how we treat one another (animals and earth included).
Grab your spouse or partner and hug and kiss at random times of the day, take the kids for a play date as a surprise, call your Mother or your Father or Grandparents or siblings and share some great memories with them, give a co-worker a fresh cut bunch of daises or an armload of brilliant mums, visit one who is lonely,....not so someone can speak highly of you, but because it's good for our souls. For how we treat one another is embedded into the 'DNA' of our souls and that energy stays with us for eternity. And! There is a study that shows when one is blessing another, three are blessed: the one who blesses, the one who is being blessed, and the one who observes it!
Namaste!
What I did, more than anything, was 'listen' to her posts and reply if she asked for a reply. I am amazed that this beautiful young woman displayed such courage, fight, compassion, strength, and yes, even at times, humor, in the many ups and downs these challenges can bring to one's doorsteps.
With her writing I felt I knew the lay of the land where they lived. I could see the terrain, feel the summer heat, and hear the dogs bark with enthusiasm when her beloved would return from a trip to the oncologist. My heart would swell when she poured her heart into her written words.
About eight weeks ago her beloved died or as I like to say, transitioned. She was planning the memorial service and asked if I could share some words of comfort and a prayer at the end of the service she had diligently planned.
I always try to honor the specifics a family requests. Her requests were simply, "Keep it short, please." Because, you see, she had already planned a beautiful service: the music he loved, her own sharing of words, a very close friend's sharing, and a detailed tribute to his life in a video presentation, and the gift of friends who were willing to stand and share remembrances. And with all of this before I spoke, I came to know her beloved even more.
He loved movies, he was brilliant, he was compassionate, he had a great sense of humor, he owned "intense wit", was in love with his dogs, and always, always made integrity the backbone of his life. Person after person stood to speak.
You see, the thing is this: I have attended or spoke at so many services over the years. But this celebration of a life was one of the most touching, unforgettable celebrations I've ever had the honor to attend.
We all will have our day. It's a given. At some hour after we make our own transition, someone will be standing to speak about us. How do you want to be remembered? Truly folks, it's not about our degrees, our connections with movie stars, our china, our cars or our flowerbeds or diamonds! Not that there is anything wrong with any of that. But, at the end of the day it is about how we treat one another (animals and earth included).
Grab your spouse or partner and hug and kiss at random times of the day, take the kids for a play date as a surprise, call your Mother or your Father or Grandparents or siblings and share some great memories with them, give a co-worker a fresh cut bunch of daises or an armload of brilliant mums, visit one who is lonely,....not so someone can speak highly of you, but because it's good for our souls. For how we treat one another is embedded into the 'DNA' of our souls and that energy stays with us for eternity. And! There is a study that shows when one is blessing another, three are blessed: the one who blesses, the one who is being blessed, and the one who observes it!
Namaste!
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