Planning for a New Beginning

It has been a week since last Juliet (daughter) and Jack (now deceased) were given my blog attention.  This was a picture taken of them in 2005 during better times

Jack's obituary can be found here.  He has been gone two weeks today.  Julie was able to attend his funeral, being allowed a  few hours window of opportunity to say her final good bye to him at the cemetery. Piedmont Medical Center in Rock Hill, SC made a policy just for her so that she could be allowed away from her hospital bed without being discharged from the center and then having to undergo a new admission. Seems the two of them were always changing policy, and from the number of conversations that I have been privileged to share since his death, they were also accustomed to converting mind sets about physical disabilities as well.

Julie was transferred to White Oak Manor in York, South Carolina where she remains.  Her pressure wounds are a bit worse for the transfer, as is her physical condition.  Her spirits are becoming more hopeful. The one concern now is transporting her back to Grand Junction either through Angel Flight or Charity Care Flight.  Nothing is quick about this process, but I trust it is all in God's Time.

If one is aware, looking for little miracles, they occur daily while I have been in York.  The first sign that God takes care of even the most minor of details was when I was clearing debris from their yard; fallen branches from oak trees, trimmings from hedges that I had cut one morning, that kind of yard pollution.  As I had it in my arms wondering where to put the dead foliage and heavier bits of wood, I glanced up to see the City Of York and three of its heavy duty front load hauler trucks one house down from where I stood, laden with wood pieces that had been torn from trees and bushes. As I walked with this load to the street where the trucks were slowly making their way toward me, the equipment operater motioned for me to drop my load in his front loader basket.  We shouted at one another, and he gave me to understand that this was the annual city pick up for trees and branches left on the curb.  I simple dropped my load into that container and away went the truck to the next house for the next load. Phillipians 4:19 says:

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus. 

What a concept.  Two other minor amazements have occurred this week, which also tells me that God is on the watch, supplying answers to questions before they have even been asked.

My new mantra is "IDK" meaning "I Don't Know" which is my standard reply to most questions asked of me.  When is Julie going to Grand Junction?  How are her wounds doing?  When will the house sell? When is their house going on the market?  When will you be appointed Personal Representative for Jack?  When for Julie?  When can you pay off their outstanding bills?  How are you going to get their specialized van sold? When are you going home to Colorado? How is Julie really coping with being a young widow?  

All questions are asked with true concern, but I just do not have any answers yet.  Sometimes I almost yell out " I Don't Know!" but most recently I can more calmly mouth or in sotto voce simply reply "I D K."  It is my most recent coping mechanism.  That and discarding trash.  What a sense of accomplishment to put something in a rubbish can and be done with it, never more touching the object or thinking of the consequences surrounding that discarded item.

House update: Pure & Simple and its owner Jennifer, will be here later this morning.  She is turning all the knick knacks, furniture, appliances and household items into sale items for the Estate Flash Sale scheduled May 23-24.  She is an energetic young woman sailing around the premises on angel wings, directing her staff and readying the house for a clear-out.  

Now is time to put away the coffee cup, finish up this post, retrieve clothing from the dryer, shower and put away personal items so that Jennifer will not tag and price them for sale.  I will be on my way shortly to see Julie and stay out of the way of Pure & Simple personnel.  

(the house that Jack Built in 2003 in York, SC, now "The Estate")

A Life Remembered

It was a matter of life, then death.  My son in law Jack, semi-professional photographer, amateur astronomer, teacher for remedial students for eleven years, rock hound, punster, and husband to daughter Juliet for 18 years, died suddenly of heart failure on April 29. Within minutes Pastor Jeff Lingle sped to their home and was with Julie.  Friends stayed with Julie in York, SC (she is bedridden) until I could get to York.  Within 12 hours after Jack died, my brother John and I were able to be with Julie.

Like Julie, Jack also was born with spina bifida.  They shared common physical problems but they were not alike in age.  Jack was born in 1947. Julie was born in 1970.  That 23 years of age separation was never a handicap.

He lived to the fullest, and then God must have decided it was time for him to take eternal rest.  I think he just wore out.

Jack had one leg removed in 1998 after a four month hospitalization in Grand Junction, CO where they were living at the time.  But that did not slow down his arms propelling his wheelchair, kept in motion as he attended church events, fairs, museums, dance recitals, all the while keeping his camera shutter blinking open and closed, recording events in the lives of others.

When my brother and I were with Julie in those three days after Jack died, we breathed deeply and kept moving on with things. Then on the fourth day after Jack died, Julie had another medical crisis necessitating an ambulance ride to Piedmont Medical Center in Rock Hill, SC where she remains presently, being treated for pressure wounds. 

The physician in charge knows how important it is for Julie to attend Jack's funeral today, and the medical village attending to her in hospital has gathered round and all are working in their own special ways to get her a two hour suspension from the confines of her hospital bed so that we can drive her to Charlotte, NC to see Jack's casket lowered back into the earth. Ecclesiastes 3 will be read, at her request.  There is a time and season for everything, and this was his time to die.  It will be a hard day.  Your prayers for Julie are appreciated.

The end of this week contains many appointments for helping get their affairs settled and toward the ultimate goal of getting Julie back to Grand Junction and settled there into Mesa Manor, a skilled nursing facility.

Until I write again, God be with you and keep on with the enjoyment of what you like to do. Smell those lovely spring flowers, enjoy the rain and sun, wind and sky.  I am doing the same.

During natural disasters two enemy animals
will call a truce, so during a hurricane
an owl will share a tree with a mouse
and, during an earthquake, you might find
a mongoose wilted and shivering
beside a snake. The bear will sit down
in a river and ignore the passing salmons 
just as the lion will allow the zebra
to walk home without comment.
I love that there are exceptions.
At funerals and weddings, for example,
the aunts who never speak nod
politely to one another. When my mother
was sick even the prickly neighbors
left flowers and cakes at our door

"Natural Disasters" by Faith Shearin from Telling the Bees. © Stephen F. Austin State University Press, 2015

Only the Necessary

Going through my closet, discarding clothing and deciding that I need only a dress or two, a funeral dress or a party dress, for both are indeed the same, decisions were made.  Good Will received a portion, but the garbage pile also took on am embarrassingly large accretion of tee shirts.  Today's wardrobe, for me, consists of pants, long in winter, cropped in summer, and long flowing tops of linen or cotton.

So why on earth did I still hang on to that suit jacket from 15 years ago?  I will never again have an office job, nor will I ever don that expensive wool suit, for I am not of that generation, although time and age is creeping me onward.

A man who has at length found something to do will not need to get a new suit to do it in; for him the old will do, that has lain dusty in the garret for an indeterminate period.[....] I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be ... Henry David Thoreau

For I have found something to do, something to love, something to look forward to and some place to be in my old and comfortable clothing.  Gardening, volunteering, reading, writing and painting need only replacement items.

Even our dead wood and other debris placed on our front curb, set out for the annual "Fresh as A Daisy" pickup by the city, funded by tax dollars, was eschewed by several clunker type bashed up pickups.  This was after the old wrought iron paraphernalia and plastics were previously snatched by recyclers seeing gold in our discards.

One decision made last summer regarding our garden was that I would never purchase an accessory for the outside that was not made from natural materials: iron, clay, stone, rock, wood are all acceptable.  Look what I found yesterday while clearing off fallen leaves from our cottonwoods.  It is a tree stump hollowed out over the years by little ants (carpenter ants?) that turned the wood into "frass," something that looks like sawdust.  When I moved the stump and turned it over, the bottom portion turned out half eaten and decayed, a perfect place for planting pansies.  How fortunate when turned upside down, a lucky benevolence!

And now nary a piece of plastic to show in the wildflower garden!

This week a friend whose husband recently passed away gave me a polished rock from his collection.  He was a lapidarist with a massive collection of rocks and equipment that she donated to Ft. Lewis College in Durango where he taught for over two decades.  

This rock has snails embedded in the fossil.  I looked it up and found it is called an "ammonite" and the snails could have lived as long as 415 million years ago.  I am wearing it today and thinking of her and her lovely garden.

My last writing class in April 28, and I will have some readings to share during May.  And for all you Garrison Keillor fans of "A Prairie Home Companion," Sharon Olds will be on his show tomorrow evening, April 25, live from Town Hall.  We have read some of her work in our writing classes, so I am looking forward to hearing her.