THANKSGIVING THOUGHTS

 

I believe that the Jesus who loved me in my childhood when I did not know what a “sin” was is the same Jesus who loves me in my older age even though I have learned, and sometimes sin anyway.

 

I can no longer see the blooms open on my Christmas cactus and thought about it this morning. It still blooms whether anyone sees it or not. Then there are the times I crawl around on the floor looking for something dropped or clean up a spill and realize a smile from my knees is, like my cactus, seen somewhere.

 

If each kindness shown to me was represented by a light on my Christmas tree I’d need to light up every tree in every forest. I believe if everything I did for someone else was shining with a light it might be pretty dark.

 

Sometimes I plan to experiment by taking food I want to eat and don’t need and put it in a certain place just to see how long it would take me to make a week’s amount of meals for an entire family of four; four days? Three? Will I ever do it?

 

Today I passed by a tree filled with birds all making sounds like Alfred Hitchcock’s movie. Have you ever wondered what might remind someone of you?

 

What was that thing you meant to make a note about so you would not forget it?

 

This may not sound like a Thanksgiving poem, but wanted to be more subtle and hope we can look a little deeper, feel thanks more deeply, try harder, forgive longer, smile more, give freely, love better, and communicate with Jesus even when no one sees.

 

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

 

Eight years ago when Mom turned eighty-eight she had her first birthday party. She had never before been dressed in absolutely everything new including her jewelry or at least, not any time that she could remember. It can be a little difficult for an adult child to picture her mom as a girl, yet I can. I see her with her dark hair skating through the streets of Lexington like I used to skate through the sidewalks of my school, only my mom had a twin who skated with her.  I can imagine her getting a new pair of skates every Christmas as she said they did, skates and maybe a new doll, and stockings with fruits, nuts and candy. I can imagine her and her sister, my and Larry’s Aunt Jan giggling as they teased teachers and even their dates as to which one was which.  I can even feel a little sorry for their other sister, my and Larry’s Aunt Evelyn. Mom said the two of them would back each other up in case someone did something wrong, always saying it was Evelyn causing any problem that came up.

But mostly I see her as a wife and mother. There were times when we were young that she and Daddy laughed and kissed and daddy teased her until we couldn’t decide if she was laughing or crying. Some nights I think of her and almost hear her singing with the radio, especially early in the mornings when she thought I was asleep. There is no Christmas carol sung anywhere as beautiful as her voice singing with the radio, or the surprise in her voice when I found a record of “Silver Bells” Daddy had hidden as a surprise for her in 1951.

She told me about the days of the Second World War and how everybody went crazy with joy the day it ended, and how her brother fought on D Day. One time she even told me about their little sister, Christine, who had died at nine months of age, and how she still remembered holding her on the porch swing.

So many memories she carries inside her head now and I wish I had recorded some of those talks. I would encourage everyone to keep a journal of sorts or write a book like I did and embarrass their children one day.

However, today Mom turns NINETY-SIX! I wish she felt like having another birthday party, but am thankful she’s around to celebrate in her own comfortable way.

It would mean a lot to me, and to her, if some of you who were at that party would remember her this day and week and let her know she is as loved now as she was that special night that still means so much to her. If you still are fortunate enough to have your mom close by, even as close as a facebook post, send her a special hug just because you love her and that will help me celebrate Mom’s day too.

 

Happy birthday Geneva Yarborough! Mom!

 

 

 

SILLY SAYINGS

 

 

It’s fun to look back and laugh occasionally at the naiveté of a child.  Perhaps you can identify some of the things you believed as well, even some of the same things I thought were true.

 

Did you know that if you park a car in the sun and the sunshine is reflected off a wall inside the house a fire could start?

 

Surely since a nickel is heavier it must be worth more than a dime.

 

If you swallow a water melon seed it will grow inside your stomach. That one must be right up there with the baby being found in the cabbage patch. Silly people, don’t they know storks bring babies.

 

If you eat enough carrots you can see better. That may be true, but when I woke up one morning after eating twenty-one carrot strips for supper and couldn’t see one bit better I surely was disappointed.

 

IF it rains while the sun shines the devil is beating his wife, or, it’s going to rain again tomorrow.

 

If a dog eats a slice of white bread it will go mad. That must be true because my last dog ate a slice and got mad when I grabbed the rest of the loaf and he couldn’t get another slice. LOL, that was too cheesy.

 

If it gets printed in the newspaper it definitely is true. That surely might drive someone crazy if they believe it today.

 

I was totally convinced by my grandma that chicken hawks lived in the deep well out back.

 

She also convinced me that rubbing a wart with a potato and burying the potato in the back yard would take the wart off.

 

Mustard plasters?  Don’t laugh; check out YouTube. Most people call them folk lore or a poultice made with ground mustard. I call them hot and painful, not to mention the smell because I remember people using mustard right out of the jar.

 

If your ears ring more than 10 seconds someone is going to die. That one scared me so badly that every time my ears started to ring I ran to the water fountain and took large swallows of water to be sure they stopped before the 10 seconds passed.

 

It’s a world-wide superstition that if you split a post with someone while walking you’ll have bad luck. Of course I do not believe that … even though I did teach my last guide dog, Mego to always walk behind a person instead of causing me and that person to split that post. Have I taught that to Vivi? No, I just throw some pretend salt over my left shoulder?

 

This is how I believe superstitions work:  If you believe a bad luck saying like that is true, you wait for something bad to happen and then you honestly think whatever saying you believed in caused that thing to happen … even if it’s years later.   

 

Red headed people have bad tempers. Really? There must be red roots somewhere underneath my blonde hair.

 

My mother-in-law once gave me the most beautiful African violet ever. I loved it. “OH thank you so much!” I said. She answered:  “Oh no, you aren’t supposed to thank anyone when they give you a flower; now it will die.” It did … after two years.

 

Radios once had large tubes in them and often the backs of radios had something like heavy duty cardboard on the back with holes in it. How many of us picked up the set, put our eyes on the holes in back and pretended we saw people in there?

 

If you put a chicken’s head under its wing and rock it in your arms it will go to sleep. Unless chickens have changed since I was ten years old, it’s true; at least it worked for me; honest.

 

Okay, enough you say? I agree, especially since I don’t believe in luck, but believe my life is governed by God’s plan and no rabbit’s foot or ear ringing or post splitting has a thing to do with it. Still, it’s funny to look at how a human mind can work sometimes even when we’re grown. This is why I never copy, paste, share chain promises or even share testimony chains on social media, but only put this out there hoping somebody might really laugh today.

 

 

THINGS THAT MAKE ME CRAZY ... ER

 

 

All of these things are not just because I’m a blind person although most of them are. Some, however, are those things that back in the day we used to call pet peeves. We may be the only ones hosting them, yet some are funny and some are shared by folks who just haven’t said them out loud.

 

A few things include:

~Facebook posts that say copy and paste!

~Facebook posts that are print only.

~Going out to eat with someone who can’t stay off Facebook.

~Commercials that never say what they’re advertising.

~Game shows on TV that the game is almost done and the host says “here’s the three you missed,” as print appears.

~What channel is my TV on?

~the word hashtag?

 

Well, those seemed funny when I thought of them. Let me try again.

 

You go somewhere. A person appears and a memory alarm goes off in your head but the name doesn’t come with it. Then the person walks up and says: “Remember me?”

 

You think you are totally alone just after you’ve … ?

 

What?  Food programs that are clearly designed so you can lose weight … but not admitting they’re diets.

 

Coffee:

What do you mean there’s no coffee! … Monday morning.

 

Coffee venues caring who puts out the pumpkin spice latté first.

 

People arguing over a red cup at Christmas.

…

Incidentally, There’s no such thing as nose blind,

However I don’t walk when the wind is blowing hard because I can’t hear where I’m going.

 

People know you can’t see so they think you don’t know when they’re rolling their eyes … and they’re right.

 

People whispering so they think you can’t hear … and they’re wrong.

 

Forgetting a word, a name, a place or a phrase in the middle of a sentence.

 

Remembering a word, a name, a place or a phrase that embarrassed me forty years ago.

 

Phones:

Political phone calls.

 

Calls that begin with someone saying:  “I’m not trying to sell you something,” then does.

 

Where’s the button that makes my phone ring so I can find it?

 

Things that make my blood pressure go up a notch:

Spending time returning phone calls because customer service didn’t get it right.

 

Now, just as a side note, these little things come from a compilation of notes that are jotted down in my memory file so as not to spend all day wondering what to write. So, let me wish you all a great day with no blustering winds outside, no distasteful phone calls, nothing embarrassing happening to you, a good cup of coffee … or tea … and some blog or Facebook post to make you smile.

 

 

A DAY IN THE LIFE

 

(A mission from a blind person, to help us all understand each other better).

 

Once about approximately twelve years ago I met a friend who influenced my behavior in a positive way. I was complaining about folks who said things when they thought I couldn’t hear them like: “bless her heart.” Those kinds of remarks tended to make me crazy mad and I found myself wanting to turn on them in such a way that they would probably pray for my heart instead of blessing it. This person pointed out to me that I had no more of an idea how it seemed to those who could see than they had of how it is for me not to see. I will admit that there still are occasionally times when I want to stick out my tongue or make a face when someone points to a product I am asking about in a store or asks one of my friends: “Can I pet her dog?”  However, as I sit here I feel the need to pay tribute to all those good folks who have helped me in so many ways, and point out a few good people in so many places.

Where to begin? How about those sweet ladies who have been willing to drive their cars a hundred miles to see my mom, refuse to accept a tank of gas,  and then bring me back home, people like Margaret, Winnie, Dorsey, Teresa, and Mary. If these special ladies don’t enjoy doing this, they surely have me fooled. They love seeing Mom also. Now that we can’t go shopping or riding around or out to eat anymore because of mom’s health, still they go! Then Janet, from another hundred miles away drives down to visit and always says: “What do you need help with?”

I know there is a TV show called “A Day in the Life,” so I don’t want to get sued; maybe I should call the blog, this day in my life.

But before I get to this day, let me tell you about my ophthalmologist. He and I have appealed the decision of my insurance concerning eye drops at least four times, at least so many times that now the only way to win is to go through a hearing with a judge. The drops cost me $135.00 a month because my eye reacts badly to the preservatives in the generic. Believe me, we have tried oodles of drops and this is the one that works without side effects. Instead of going through a hearing he just tells me not to worry, he’ll take care of it.

So now, just a few people from this very day. First of all, anyone who is blind really resists asking for help as much as possible. Well, there may be a few who have no problem with it whatsoever. Anyway, as my vision deteriorates it is necessary for me to ask for help more than I ever thought I could. Almost eighteen months ago the City of Raleigh begin working on getting an audio light and painted crosswalk at a street I cross which has become busier since the building up of businesses in the area. Finally about a week ago it appeared.  This morning it wasn’t a difficult decision for me to go to Sam’s Club which is on the other side of that crossing. Vivi has learned where the pharmacy is in Sam’s Club, but this morning I was going to the watch counter. I asked the lady inside the door which way I should go. She was going to tell me by yelling the turns to me while I walked as she said “I can’t leave my desk.” However, after noticing she couldn’t direct me that way I heard her heels come tap, tap tapping across the floor as Vivi followed her to the right place. Then I heard someone call my name and some friends I hadn’t seen in several years gave me a ride back home.

Time for the gym. I have missed going to the gym for over half a year and for the past month it had seemed like either Vivi or I had forgotten where things were. Today as I stood on the art trainer a person came up and asked me if I remembered him. He worked with me when I started going to this gym quite a few years ago, showing me where things were, even counting steps in places to find where a turn was to the next machine. As I hugged him I asked “Have they moved something around in here?” As it turns out, they had moved things, some in one direction and some others and some out altogether. He again took me on a tour of where things are, even counting steps in one new area.

After gym time was over I waited for a cab that never came. I called the dispatcher and she told me to call my usual cab driver, who not only came down town to pick me up, but took me all the way to the mall. Suddenly I realized it was 2:30 and I had not had lunch, so Vivi took me to Chic Filet, because they are the best people to help. The first thing I had to ask someone about was “Am I in line?” The next thing was “Can you swipe this card for me?” All those machines don’t work the same way. The next thing I had to ask was: “Could you please help me find a table?”  To all my questions a very friendly person answered me as if I was the only customer there. Vivi followed him as he carried my food to a table, then came back to see if I wanted more drink, then came once more to take my tray for me.

Time to go to Sears, where I was once again going to a watch repair store as they didn’t have one in Sam’s Club. Sears will put a battery in a Braille watch for free, which is, in itself, a really nice benefit. So, of course, I went in on the wrong floor. I listened for a cash register. Hearing none, I had to ask someone where one was. Finding it, the cashier told me the elevator was just across the room but not only that, she walked with me, pushed the buttons, went upstairs with me and walked me all the way to my destination. You might think this person “me,” would know her way back out of the store into the mall? Not a chance. Vivi just headed one way and I hung on. Finally, after an appropriate distance, I asked someone which way to the mall. You guessed it, another person to help. I was close enough

however that he could just stand where he was and tell me when to turn.

Now, if anybody wants to say “bless her heart,” go right ahead. My heart was blessed by at least eight people just today, not counting those mentioned earlier. I think I am beginning to learn the meaning of the Tim McGraw song “Humble and kind,” well, the humble part anyway. It would be such a fine thing to be able to influence someone in such a positive way as my friend did for me a dozen years ago. It’s so much easier now to ask for help if I absolutely need it, and to experience the goodness in so many people in our world, the good news we don’t often hear about on TV.

 

BELIEVE

 

Forgotten memories creep like dancing moonbeams on pillows

With night noises that sing lullabies.

The world once was quiet at 2 AM.

Is it still so in the country while the city lights blaze as bright as noon?

Can the birds go to sleep? Do night flowers bloom?

Do the monsters come out from under our beds once we are grown?

And feed on the grandstand of innocent laughter, And the notion of happily ever after?

The wind breathes a fleeting childhood smile …

For just a blink the cow grazes in the grass

As the porch swing squeaks and the apples fall,

Naive times knowing nothing at all.

Can a day dream ever come true planted in the soil of time?

Nurture with love as warm as the sun

Wash it clean until it shines

Wake it up so it can be done.

 

FEAR, FUN AND FIVE STARS

 

IN March of 2015, I had lived in my present home for eighteen years and ten months. This is when the City of Raleigh and I began a procedure to put an audible signal light at a busy street near my home. I had crossed this street uneventfully for those eighteen years and ten months, but the newly erected Sheet’s on a near-by corner caused the intersection to become dangerously heavy with traffic, especially since there is an arrow for a left turn which would be illegal only if a driver didn’t pay any attention that someone was crossing. The procedure should be completed in about one more month, but I realized that not going over to the places I was familiar with frequenting had caused me to become skittish when out in traffic at all. As one story seems to melt into another one and another one, let me try to hit the highlights.

Last week I ordered a special shampoo for Vivi at Pet’s Mart. The girl told me it should be in last night. So, I decided right then and there that this Wednesday morning I would cross that street just like I used to without fear. My mind crossed it a hundred times with me tripping over the median, a car blowing a horn being the last thing I ever heard, and seeing Vivi disappear underneath a garbage truck or something. Still, I prepared myself as best I could. At 6:30 AM I showered, took Vivi outside, fed her, and packed my little canvas purse. After my devotion I decided to see what verse of the day showed up on Bible Gateway.  It was Psalm 121, verses 7-8. “The Lord will protect you from all evil. He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and coming in from this time forth and forever.”

Now, you can see me flying out the door with a smile on my face, right? Well, the truth is, it gave me the courage to walk out and lock the door, deciding that if I got to that corner and was too frightened I would just turn and go to McDonald’s for breakfast instead of Steak & Shake like I had planned. I suppose that word “food” should have been up in the title as those of you who know me know that any trip is probably going to involve food sooner or later.

It was a beautiful morning’s walk, and by the time we got to that crossing my fear was gone.

Breakfast at Steak & Shake was the fun part. It was such a boost to realize I had conquered that fear if anything was burned or undercooked I never noticed. I sat there listening to The Four Seasons singing, “Big Girls don’t cry.” Am I a big girl yet  I wondered. I determined not to leave until I had heard something by Elvis and the coffee kept on coming. I almost laughed out loud as Lesley Gore sang “Judy’s Turn to Cry,” a little song about a girl being in love with a fickled guy who can’t decide if he loves her or Judy. By the time Chuck Berry started up “Johnny b Goode” it made me so happy I almost jumped up and started doing the bop. It was my third cup of coffee. Thank goodness Elvis came on next with “Don’t be Cruel” and I woke up Vivi who was asleep under the table. If she had known our next stop was Pet’s Mart she’d never have gone to sleep. We walked down the parking lot and inside the store. Can you imagine how I felt when the girl told me … the shampoo didn’t come? I just purchased a bottle off the shelf and believe Viv won’t be allergic to it; we’ll find out just as soon as I finish this blog.

However, one more story? Last week I downloaded the Uber app on my phone.

Since by this time, (10 AM) it was already 87 degrees, it was too hot to put Vivi’s feet on the hot asphalt streets in our travel back home, not to mention that I’m now considered “elderly?” Anyway, it was a good time to try that new app. At first the ETA time was supposed to be 5 minutes, then the next thing I knew it was 8, then 7 then 8 again? After a call to Christi I decided to wait five more minutes; it had already been twenty. Finally the text came that the driver was in route and ETA was 3 minutes. Sure enough, the driver arrived, and apologized because he had had to go pick up his car first. We were home in less than 7 minutes for sure, and the driver ended the trip with “Have a blessed day.”  

This whole long rambling story is just to let you know that once doing something on a more independent basis, conquering a fear, realizing what a blessed day really is, is much better than taking a tranquilizer or drinking a glass of wine.  

 

 

 

Off We Go!

(Told through guidedog Vivi)

Surely she sees me standing on the step waiting for my morning walk. But she is listening to something on that thing in her hand she says is a phone, and she’s smiling at something inside her head again. If I could read her mind I’d be sure she’s thinking of people I don’t know that she calls Mama, Daddy, Larry or Mammaw and … oops, there’s this dog she calls Brownie. I bet he’s not as pretty as me this Brownie dog, but he wags his tail hard and scratches fleas. Somebody needs to buy him some flea medicine.

Now she’s singing. I wag my tail too, hard enough to hit the front porch wall, but she keeps on singing. I go over and lick, lick, lick and she hugs me and promises me a walk in just a little while. 

“After the trash trucks are gone,” she says. They are really noisy, those trash trucks. They drown out that thing she holds in her hand that makes noise and they drown out her singing. I lay back down at the top of the steps and work hard to zero in on her thoughts. Can she think and sing at the same time?

I guess so because now she’s thinking about little children she calls Kevin and Christi. I know a Kevin and a Christi but they are grown up people. 

Christi and Kevin as children

And … oops, there’s this other dog they call Princess. I’d like to play with Princess. I think about Stella, my best friend and wonder where she is. Is she with that Christi person and Taylor? I love Taylor and that person Brittany… I wonder when they are ever coming over to play.

Stella

More friends! 

There’s a squirrel sprinting across the yard! I stand up and stare but don’t dare run off the step or she’ll quit singing and yell at me. 

 

Oh boy! She’s standing up and opening the door for us to go outside but … she passes right on by my leash without stopping and goes into the office. Surely not another long day of her working! I lose hope and know I’m probably fixing to snore.

What was that?! She’s standing up and changing shoes! This is a good sign. I try to lick her feet to be sure they are clean before she slips on that shoe but she pats my head and says “get back silly girl,” just like she does when I pounce on her pillow so she can’t get in her place in bed at night. She’s getting a doggy bag from behind the door, rolling it up small, and sliding it in the front of that thing she calls a bra. 

I think we’re just about ready for a walk when she turns around and goes into the room where that big water bowl is that she won’t let me drink out of. She closes the door and I lay down at the front door, still hoping. Finally she comes out, forgets she already has a bag and gets another one, then laughs and puts it back. Now, it’s time for sure! She picks up my harness and my leash! I’m so excited I jump around and try to lick her face, reaching up as high as possible. She tells me to stay or we’ll never get that harness and leash snapped. I can’t be still and keep on doing my excited dog dance. The leash gets snapped and I stand beating the front door with my tail. She picks up that thing she says is a phone, grabs two pieces of sugar free peppermint, opens the front door, closes and locks it and there goes that squirrel! Oh I want to chase him in the worst way! Instead I do another little happy dance as I realize if I chase that squirrel I’ll be grounded for the rest of the day and she’ll just think, sing, and play or work and I’ll never get a walk. I remember just in time to stop at the curb. She steps down, I concentrate on everything around us but mostly what might be in her way. We’re clear for take-off! Off we go!

STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

 

Today my blog thoughts turn back to earlier days as I move from middle age into elderly? What a subtle transition! Yet as I live and notice different things somehow it’s fun to organize time into the gentle chaos of today that seems now to be a serious love moment of yesterday. First of all, before I dive in, let me say to all my facebook friends who have said needed prayers for me over the past few days, you people rock! There’s no better gift on earth than a prayer said on behalf of a friend. I believe those prayers definitely go from your hearts to God’s heart and return to me in the form of His healing touch, so much better than a gift wrapped up with a beautiful bow! Thank you all!

Now, however, I want to do a little spoof on the days of yesteryear, so if any young folks ever get around to reading this just hang on.  

Do you all remember when people didn’t feel well how all the friends and family invaded the house so they could watch you be sick? Not only did they do this, but they came armed with food you didn’t want to eat. If you actually had a phone Mom or Dad would eventually take it off the hook so you could get some sleep, or appoint one informant to receive all those calls. People sometimes felt compelled to do something so you might even end up with four or five pairs of new pajamas or coloring books if you were young enough. Neighbors came in and swept the floors and washed the dishes, and sometimes made irritating suggestions about how you might be cared for better.

If you were in the hospital nurses could actually give out minimal wellness reports until they got tired of doing so. People had to be shooed out of someone’s room because there were too many people in there. Besides regular aunts, some great aunts were obliged to check on you until they knew you were up and running. You were never left alone at night, even if you just had the flu.

It was this latter statement of “overnight” that kept me in the hospital after being put through emergency gallbladder surgery. The ONLY reason I stayed overnight was because I live by myself and am blind, which, in itself, warrants a time-out for a separate paragraph here.   

This was a modern mega hospital in the middle of the state’s capital, so I was taken back when questions came at me like:  “Does your dog help you get to your kitchen?” or “Do you need me to hold the cup so you can pee?” One more question was concerning the fact I just could not sleep in the bed, in the chair, in the recliner, or after walking up and down the hall with a nurse holding onto me for dear life. “Would it help if I turned on the lights for you?” she asked. In the morning breakfast was served but the CNA’s were clueless until my daughter came in and said “the eggs are at 6 o’clock, the bacon is laying right over the top of them, the oatmeal which you won’t eat is moved from 3 o’clock and the Jell-O is at 11.”

No matter, these folks were so kind and concerned I tried really hard not to scare them too much, and wish I had felt good enough to help them become more educated about blindness. As usual, Vivi did her own version of that, and doctors left their rounds to come visit the beautiful Labrador who became an instant star.

  Now, four days later my mind rewinds. If I had had gallbladder surgery fifty years ago there would probably be an incision from navel to the right side, I would still be sleeping on morphine, and wouldn’t be able to enjoy all those folks who invaded the house to help. Today, however, I’m down to about one power packed pill every fifteen hours and am wondering if tomorrow I can take Vivi for a short walk around the neighborhood. Four little puncture wounds seem to be healing up nicely.

So, as today my phone has not rung, no texts, no people, I quietly think of my mom sitting in Lexington. I know she is in her chair trying to watch a TV she told me yesterday she can no longer see. Her phone seldom rings. Her family surrounds her, yet neighbors don’t come to sit with her, bring her food or help in her care. Church folks seldom make their way to her door. Is this our future?

As I try to combine the past, the present and the future I hope somehow I can take the best from yesterday and apply it to the tomorrows ahead. I wish I knew how to take all the love from childhood and place it in my mom’s hands today, or take the time from a lonely Sunday afternoon and spread love over a heart like spreading peanut butter onto a slice of bread. There seems to be no real point to this blog, or is there? Maybe it’s just experiencing time passing.  Maybe it’s missing the mom who took care of us as children. Maybe it’s punctuated by my next-door neighbor who asked me how I was and walked away as I said “I just had gallbladder surgery.” Maybe it’s just too much Oxycodone. I do believe, however, if I put this into a capsule for thousands of years the one thing that would still be real is the feelings of love that will never become outdated.

 

 

SERIOUSLY SILLY THOUGHTS

 

 

How long has it been since all the candles would fit on your birthday cake?

Do you remember how you felt on your first job when you realized you had worked right through what once was summer vacation?

When is the last time you threw a napkin across the room and actually hit the trashcan?

Or you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe and wondered if you would make it to the bathroom.

 

Do you believe that rubbing your tummy and patting your head at the same time seems much easier after age fifty.

Have you truly talked to your plant and believed it grew?

Or played peak-a-boo with your puppy dog?

 

Remember the nursery rhyme “sing a Song of Six Pence?

Did your mind ever really see how it might have looked when the maid was in the garden and the blackbird came down and “pecked” off her nose?

Now it seems to be more politically correct to say “sat” on her nose. Either way, think about it; it’s funny!

Besides a wedding day or birth of a child have you felt the way you do at Christmas, when it wasn’t Christmas at all?

Do you sometimes wish you could still roll over and over in the fall leaves?

 

Rainbows, like daffodils and the way love feels are ageless wonders!

And time keeps on moving, whether we do or not.

Take off your watch for a weekend and see if it doesn’t last longer.

Life is very short once you look at it backwards, so take the best of it with you for all days.

 

HOW I SEE

 

HOW I SEE

 

This little blog is just to bring you alongside me as days pass and things change.

 

Thursday morning my friend Teresa pulled up in front of my house. I saw something that looked almost white.  “What is that?” I asked Teresa. Finally we realized I was seeing the house next to mine. I was ecstatic about being able to see that house all the way from my parking space. “A great sight day,” I thought as we went inside.  

We stood in the kitchen talking as I put away frozen food. I heard her voice, knew exactly where she was standing, so why did I bump right into her?

 

I sat in the chair at the ophthalmologist’s office before taking the dreaded visual fields test.

Doctor:  How does your vision seem today?

Me:  I’m seeing ceiling fans.

Doctor:  Great!!!!

Me:  But there aren’t any.

 

The salad dressing bottle was full, so why was it not dropping onto my salad. The weight of the bottle suddenly felt a bit lighter in my hand as I understood that I was fixing to eat a salad swimming in Ranch. Dressing.

Vivi and I stood on the front porch, her harness in my hand. “Forward,” I commanded. She did not move. “Forward,” I said again a little more emphatically as I put one foot out front, just as my head banged against the square post right beside the front step.

Me and my shadow. Oops, that’s not a shadow. 

Have you ever watched one blind person trying to hand something to another blind person? Keep a sense of humor; it can be funny.

My family and sometimes friends love to go looking at Christmas lights, one of my favorite things. Now it excites me so much when I really do see some. “Look!”  I pointed, … just as it turned green. 

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.” Walking from outdoors to inside is like a dark hole. If not for Vivi.

 

Christi and I sat in a lobby. “How well do  you see?” someone asked me.

“Well, I know you’re there so that must be you I see a shadow of, only frankly you could just as well be a vase of flowers.”

“There is a vase of flowers on the table,” she said.   

Today that conversation could go like this:

“Can you see what’s on that table?”

“What table?” I’d wonder.

It was dark outside except I could see flashing lights and heard two motors from probable rescue vehicles turning into my cul-de-sac. Immediately my thoughts went to the older neighbor down the street and thought about her. Then I realized other people may be thinking it was this older lady down the street, me. Okay, rubber necking is not something that works for me. Is there such a thing as rubber earing? What happened you ask? To this day I have no idea. All I can tell you is I heard folks talking outside my window and laughing about whatever had happened. Well, that really would have been me had911 came the day my boiled eggs exploded to the ceiling.

 

Poor pitiful me.

One night over twenty-five years ago I fell and broke my wrist and my ankle. Not wanting to call and bother my children, I called a cab and then sat in the hospital emergency room for about three hours, admiring my ability to keep from screaming. Finally two casts later I called my cab to go back home with bottles of Percocet in my hand. It didn’t occur until I was indoors that my wrist and hand were in the cast and the pain killer was in a childproof bottle.

 

As I live and discover new things happening, my admiration for those totally blind girls and boys I went to school with grows by leaps and bounds. I suppose they always knew that when you stopped the vacuum to go answer the phone or anything, you’d best remember where you parked the vacuum. Maybe at my age it’ll help my brain stay active?

 

A few of my favorite things:   

Fire engine red and bright banana colored cars.

Cloudy days that even up the shadows.

Sunshine when I don’t have to walk facing it.

Digital pictures or photos put on canvas.

The way things move across my TV screen, whether I know what they are or not.

Music! Music! Music!

 

As I said above, this is just letting you walk beside my life through the changes and try to “see” life through my eyes as I experience new places.

Should I ever stumble, I believe God will just turn up the music.

 

 

 

 

A PSALM FROM TODAY

A PSALM FROM TODAY

 

Nothing touches my thoughts like the presence of your name!

The butterfly whispers your praises with its wings!

 

The dolphin stands in the footprints you left on the water!

 

Boulders roll like marbles at the touch of your finger!

 

I pray to imitate the stars

Whose wills are but to go as you direct.

Life’s galaxies nudge me and my orbit slips—

Yet you lift up fallen stars.

 

If your miracles shone from the heavens

We would see the diseases you healed;

The people you fed;

 

And forgiveness—

The light of the sun!

 

 

 

 

A FRIEND LIKE YOU

A FRIEND LIKE YOU

 

My identification card expired, so my friend Teresa took me to the DMV to get a new one. While we stood at the counter the lady was tap, tap, tapping in the keys that needed to be used to get the correct information. Now, for almost forty years the name on my card was misspelled, with an I where the Y should be. This time I took in my birth certificate to prove the correct spelling. Just as the lady typed in information with an exceptional fast speed my friend commented: “That color on your fingernails looks so pretty.” “Thank you,” the lady said as she never missed a beat. A conversation then ensued between her and Teresa as she kept right on typing. Thoughts of my name being misspelled worse than ever crossed my mind and I considered purposely stepping on Teresa’s toe to make her hush. On and on went the little babbling conversation between the two ladies and I heard a smile in the lady’s voice. Finally the information was in and the picture taken.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked the lady.

“You don’t have to pay for a card when you are blind,” she said.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I have always had to pay before.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have had to,” she answered, still with that smile in her voice.  “And” she said:  “I fixed your name.”

That isn’t the end of the story. We got back in Teresa’s truck and she told me there was a young man carrying a baby in a basket wrapped only in a blanket and the baby’s toes and chest were nakedly exposed. I could hear tears in Teresa’s voice as she recited this concern.

“What do you think would happen if we went and got something to put on that baby?” she asked me.

Thoughts of both of us laying dead in the middle of the DMV crossed my mind as I slightly shivered along like the baby but for different reasons. We rode on a little bit batting the pros and cons across the front seats and since she was driving all I could do was ride along as off to Target we went. She came out of the store with a oneZ in her hand and back to the DMV we went.

Why didn’t I go back in the DMV with her? Because it was too much trouble to get out of my warm seat? Because it was too much trouble to get Vivi out of the back seat? Because I needed to make a phone call? If you guessed any of those reasons you’d be wrong. I felt a little intimidated to walk up to a stranger I didn’t even know and offer something for a baby, probably five weeks old. “He should have sense enough to know not to bring a baby outside when it is 43 degrees dressed that way,” I thought, as I also thought about all those WWJD bracelets that used to be so popular?  (What would Jesus do?”)

Teresa came back to the truck and I heard a smile shining all over her face.

“Oh, Myra!” she said. That was the sweetest experience! That young man just received that gift with the biggest smile ever as he thanked me. You could tell how happy it made him.”

 

    

Bridging the Gap

At age forty-six I decided to take a creative writing class and found myself needing to write a short story. As the things in my life were changing, somehow I wanted to honor those changes by bringing some younger and older life moments together. To make matters interesting, in today’s literary markets the type and time of my childhood writing is referred to as “historical fiction.” This little short story never happened in my life, and now I find myself very close to the grandma’s age. It made me smile as I read some of the questions asked of me at the time, my answers then, and those now. They really haven’t changed much at all. Still, I must admit, the story seems to have been written by a younger person than I am today.  At whatever age, hope you enjoy both sides of the story and connect the dots of time.

BRIDGING THE GAP

1950

Grandpa was getting up from the dinner table when Grandma reminded him, “Don’t forget to check on Old Sue. She may have found her calf by now.”

Mandy tried not to giggle, but it’s hard not to giggle when you’re eight years old.

“Grandma,” she said, “I saw a calf born when I was four years old.  I know cows don’t go around looking for their calves.”

Grandma choked back a chuckle from behind the ear of corn she was trying to chew with her false teeth. “Maybe they’re like people,” she said. “Maybe they go looking around for the very things that are inside them all the time.”

Now Mandy was really embarrassed. She was beginning to wish she had not invited Gloria to spend the weekend. Last week she stayed with Gloria in the city. They went swimming, to a ball game, and even to the movies.  But there was nothing to do in the country except shuck corn and shell beans, and the grown-ups couldn’t even talk right.

“Don’t mind her,” Mandy said to Gloria. “Grandma would try to make religion out of a mud puddle.”

Both eight-year-olds giggled and tried to dart out the door before Grandma could chain them to the dishpan. Whoever said Grandma was slow certainly did not know Amanda Krebs.

“You gals get back here before I cloud up and rain all over you,” she called to them.

“Grandma!  I have company! We didn’t have to wash dishes at her house.” 

“You probably didn’t feed chickens or gather eggs either, but the hens don’t stop laying just because your cousin is here.” Grandma was already boiling water for the dishpan.

Gloria looked at Mandy. Her hands were as smooth as her face. Both her eyes looked questioningly at the singing kettle.

“Don’t worry, Mama and Papa will be home from the factory after a while and we won’t have to do this at my house. We even have hot and cold running water at home just like you do in town”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Gloria lied because she was too polite to tell the truth.

Grandma looked at the two girls. It had been sixty years since she was eight years old. You didn’t talk about where calves come from back then, even if everybody did know. And girls certainly never went around in short pants after the age of four. But Grandma could be modern. She could shake her stiff leg better than anybody at the harvest barn dance every fall.  But she couldn’t be patient with little girls who had lily-white hands and wore necklaces in the middle of the day. She began pulling dishes from everywhere and dropping them into the sudsy hot lather.

“God gave us hands and feet because he knew we were going to need them,” her lecture began. “If he just wanted something to look pretty, well, he’s got plenty of flowers for that. You girls got it easy.”

Gloria leaned over to whisper to Mandy. “Are we going to hear about how she walked to school now?”

“No you ain’t.” Grandma’s ears were as sharp as her tongue. “Whatever made you think I went to school? I learned arithmetic from the Sears Roebuck catalog and the only book I ever read from was the bible.”

“That has to be true,” Mandy informed Gloria. “Grandma talks about the Bible so much that until last year I thought she must have written at least half of it herself.” The girls giggled.

Just then the back door swung open and Grandpa rushed in, “Better get some things together.  Old Sue isn’t able to have that calf.” He reached in the corner and picked up the gun, stuck a few shells in the pocket of his overalls and waited for Grandma to come with some rags, scissors, and on her way out the door she grabbed her sowing basket.

“Can we come?”  Mandy asked.

“No!”  Grandpa was firm.

The girls watched the couple hurrying across the yard. Just a few minutes ago the wrinkles in Grandma’s face had seemed to dance as she talked and worked around the kitchen. From behind, she looked old. She had a white cloth tied around her head that looked like it was holding her head together. She drug her stiff leg along behind her as though it weighed too much to lift beside her other one.

Grandpa carried the gun beside him as though the gun itself made a statement to life. His steps were as firm as his voice had been when he had forbidden the girls to come.

Mandy and Gloria looked at each other and read each other’s thoughts. They threw down their dish towels and started toward the door. “We’ll cut through the corn field and go around back of the barn,” Mandy said.

“Why did he take the gun?" Gloria asked.

“Shshsh, Grandma can hear me thinking.”

The girls didn’t have to duck. The corn stood almost six feet tall now and the leaves waved gently to them as they passed across the rough dirt. At the end of the corn field was a wire fence. Mandy lifted up the bottom two rows of wire so Gloria could crawl through.

“Are there cows in here?” Gloria whispered.

“Yes, and one bull, but don’t worry, they are more scared of you than you are of them.”

“I don’t think so. How far is it?”

“Just across the branch and threw those trees on the other side.”  Amanda was used to the thorns and the pasture.  It never occurred to her that Gloria might be frightened. A wooden plank lay across the little branch. The water was no deeper than three feet, with little minnows swimming under the plank as though they were playing “Snake in the gully”. Mandy took the six quick steps to the other side before she realized Gloria was not with her. She looked back at Gloria’s uncertain expression, and made a motion with her hand for her to follow her. The sun came through the trees and rested on Gloria’s auburn hair, making it appear for a second as though her head was on fire. The beauty of it caused Mandy to feel a brief jealous second, before she started back across the plank to take Gloria’s hand. The girls turned to the right and followed the trees to the wooden gate that let them peer into the barnyard. They were almost too late.

All they could see was red, even brighter than Gloria’s hair had been. Now the sun lay over the place where Grandma and Grandpa knelt. Grandma was rubbing Old Sue’s head and almost sitting on her front legs. Grandpa’s hands got lost somewhere in the red blob. It was impossible to tell where Old sue turned into the calf Grandpa was pulling from her body. It looked as though the cow literally broke into pieces while the girls watched. Finally, Grandpa and Sue gave a long cry together and Grandpa fell backwards catching the little red blob in his lap.

But Old Sue didn’t stop wailing.  Groans too horrible for eight-year-old ears to hear filled the barnyard with pain. Grandpa started standing up as the little red calf sputtered into life. Grandma carefully wiped its mouth, eyes and ears with the wet cloth she had brought, and smiled as the newborn immediately tried to suck on it. Sue was just too old to give birth. It appeared that Old Sue was akin to Grandma, seeming not to know when it was time to let go and let the young ones run the world.

Grandpa put a shell into the gun. Mandy covered her ears. Gloria screamed at the sound of the gun, but Sue became quiet and still on the ground. Grandma turned toward the sound of the scream. The girls came through the gate to kneel beside the new little creature that was struggling to stand up from Grandma’s lap.

Grandma looked into Gloria’s face and her heart melted tender to the child.

Until now, Old Sue had been just a cow to Mandy. Now she had real identity. Her life stood for something.

“What are we going to name it?” Mandy asked as though that were the appropriate question.

The little calf made a noise that sounded more like a sheep than a cow. Gloria’s eyes never left Grandma’s face. Each little dancing wrinkle seemed to have something special to say now.

“What will happen to the calf now?”

“Well, we have another calf about a week old,” Grandma explained. “We’ll take this one to the mother and see if she will let it nurse.”

“Will she?” Gloria questioned.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Well, sometimes a mother will take on another’s baby and sometimes not. Cows and animals can be like people sometimes. What it all depends on is love, nature, and God.”

Gloria finally looked into the baby calf’s face. The eyes were closed and Gloria wondered if they were any color at all.

“Let’s name it,” Mandy insisted.

“Let’s let Gloria name it,” Grandma suggested.

“Well, the first thing this calf heard was its mama getting shot. Why don’t we call it Bambi?” Gloria said.

“Then Bambi it is,” Grandma agreed.

“What will happen to Bambi,” Gloria still wondered aloud.

Grandpa had been busy cleaning up around the area and picking up things for Grandma to take back to the kitchen.

“And why the sowing basket?” Gloria asked.

Mandy giggled. “To sew up your mouth so you won’t ask so many questions,” she said as she began to understand why  Grandma had said that to her a thousand times when she was younger. Simultaneously, Gloria realized a real resemblance in Grandma Krebs’ namesake. She looked around the little area at the baby calf, her cousin, and the two old people. She reached out to touch Bambi’s little red head as the sun touched them with brilliance.

“Child,” Grandpa said because he was too old to remember a name like Gloria. “You come back next summer and Bambi will serve you up milk, cheese, and butter.” 

Questions asked by class and answered by me.

Q:  What is the significance of the color red?

A:  The brightness of life from beginning to end; light on Gloria’s hair, a young girl fixing to face life that may include some problems (jealousies), the redness of the cow falling apart at life’s end, the redness of the calf’s head as infancy.

Q:  What is the meaning of the title?

A:  The bridge of life, emphasized by the wooden bridge the girls had to walk across to get to the answers.

Q:  Shouldn’t the girls be younger than eight?

A:  I don’t know but I don’t think so in rural 1950.

Q:  You didn’t follow through on the God theme; why not?

A:  It was a part of what Grandma believed, and was a subjective presence in the story in the birthing of the little calf.