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45 Years

He was given 45 years – only 45 years to make his mark, to make a difference and to make a life. And so it began, in 1929 on the day he was born.

His parents were farmers and he was one of 11 children, only four of them being boys. Because of that fact he spent most of his days doing farm chores and working the fields; and as a young man this was not what he wanted for his future, so he joined the Air Force at 16 years of age.

After eight eventful years he left the military and an unfaithful wife, took his daughter and moved back home, still trying to find his way.

Being around family and friends again helped to rebuild his confidence and he found a new love, a new job and perhaps a new passion for life.

They were married and had five daughters together. Because he had no sons he taught his daughters how to play baseball, how to shoot a gun, and how to shoot a bow and arrow. He taught them to mow the lawn, butcher chickens and weed the garden. He reminded them to act like ladies and that their dresses had to be at least to the top of their knees. He took them fishing for hours at a time and had to keep reminding them to watch their bobbers and to be quiet or the fish wouldn’t bite.  He loved to watch baseball and enjoyed having his wife and girls watch it with him but never forced them too. Whenever it was time to do some heavy digging on the farm, he’d always make sure the girls got a ride in the bucket at the front of the tractor, lifting it up and down until they laughed.

After years of struggling financially, he and his wife were finally able to buy a house for their family. The house was within walking of where he worked as a mechanic and things really seemed to be working out, including financially. He was on top of the world and excited for what their future as a family held.

Unfortunately for him, this was the end of his 45 years. There was no more time for him to make his mark, a difference or a future. No more time for baseball, fishing or rides in the bucket. In his last moments of life, as he struggled in the cold water he wondered if he had made his mark or even a difference in the world, and as he lost consciousness, he prayed that he had.

I know that this man had made a mark on the world and I know without a doubt that he made a difference. I know this because this man, with only 45 years, was my Dad.

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The Best Day Ever

Last night had been scary. Dad had called it an episode, but all she knew was that her heart had suddenly felt like it was going to burst, her legs had given out and she hadn’t been able to catch her breath. But most of all, she never wanted it to happen again.

The next morning she was feeling better and once Dad and Mom promised her a ride after work, she knew it would be a good day.

She was so excited about going for a ride, it had been a long time since she’d been on one, so when it was time to go, she was waiting at the door – nearly vibrating with excitement.

It was dark outside when they pulled out of the garage and she worried that she wouldn’t be able to see anything outside the car windows. But as they drove down their street she realized this was going to be even more fun than a day ride because there were lights everywhere! Most of the houses were lit up on the inside and there were even houses that had colored lights on the outside. Cars drove by each direction and their lights lit up the dark night.

She relaxed and laid down in the back of the car. Through the window on the roof she could see the dark sky filled with twinkling stars and through the side window was the biggest and brightest full moon she had ever seen. She had waited all day for this ride and it had been worth it. Her beautiful face beamed with joy and excitement.

When her ride ended, they were at a new place and her excitement increased at the thought of meeting new people – she loved new people.

Inside the building there were several new people and she wanted to meet them all – she could hardly contain herself and a smile crossed her sweet gray face.  They walked into a cozy little room and the new people came in one at a time and one of them opened a big container filled with treats. She sat on the floor with Dad and Mom and they played a game of hide the treats and when she found it, she got to eat it – over and over and over again, these humans weren’t good at this game at all.

More new people came in which meant more petting and more treats. One of the nice ladies had to give her a shot, but that was alright with her because that meant a couple more treats.

Finally it was just her, Dad and Mom again and now she was getting sleepy. She wanted to continue to play the game but Dad said she had to lay down and relax now. She resisted at first, but then sat down feeling pretty groggy. Dad and Mom helped her onto her side and got her comfortable on her blanket. They both sat close, one on each side of her, their faces close to hers while they whispered into her ears how much they loved her.

She was struggling to stay awake now, thinking about the wonderful day she had had, but their voices were so soft and gentle and she was so tired. As she drifted off, she smiled and thought to herself, “This was the best day ever!”

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Tears of Grief

I stood in my back yard, where everything looked and sounded normal. I stood there with my four dogs, waiting for them to relieve themselves and I was crying, crying tears of grief for my friend whose husband was, at that moment, dying from cancer.

At that moment, my friend was sitting by her husband’s bedside as family gathered, watching her husband fade away as I stood in my backyard waiting for my dogs to relieve themselves. The absurdity of the moment caught me off guard and I looked up towards the heavens and screamed! Nothing made sense anymore.

A smile briefly crossed my lips as the words my husband often reminds me of popped into my head, “You’re right where you’re supposed to be – you’re right where God wants you”! I giggled out loud as I thought, God wants me standing in my back yard watching my dogs relieve themselves when my friend is 700 miles away, watching her husband die?

The smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. This new pandemic and quarantine was keeping everyone close to home and away from those they loved and it infuriated me. My friend has the faith of a saint and the strength of a warrior, but I knew her heart was breaking and mine was breaking for her and I desperately wanted to be there for her.

But there I stood in my back yard doing the only thing I could do at that moment. I stood there waiting for my dogs to relieve themselves as I cried tears of grief for a life lost and a friend whose life was forever changed.

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Her New Reality

She woke up that morning in the usual way, it was 3:00 a.m. and the same thoughts and worries were swirling through her head. In the swirling was the long list of things she needed to get done today or minimally, this week, plus the things she wanted to get done, like her writing. She tossed and turned, wondering how she was going to get it all done but then came back to her usual conclusion, I’m still young and have plenty of time to get it all done, and she drifted off.

A short time later her alarm rings and she drags herself out of bed, walks through the house to the kitchen and fills up her coffee mug. She wonders if she should take the time to edit her “to do” list or just go with what it says for today and add to it as she goes along and again she thinks to herself, when will I ever get my writing done? As the anxiety begins to build in her chest she calms herself with the thought, at least I’m still healthy and young and I have years for all the things I want to do. It will all get done, in time.

In the silence of the early morning, with her husband and dogs still sleeping in the bedroom, she walks into the bathroom to take a shower. As she undresses, she starts to notice things about herself that she had never noticed before.

There were wrinkles and sagging skin where firm skin used to be; lines and age spots that had gone unnoticed before today with dark circles under her eyes. It took her breath away as she stared at the reflection that seemed to betray her. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth so as not to wake her husband, and the hand she saw on her face now resembled the hand of her mother. She suddenly saw herself through the eyes of her younger self and there stood an old woman looking back at her.

She didn’t recognize this woman as the one she talked to every day, the one with dreams and plans, the one with her entire life still ahead of her, the one she still wanted to be and needed to be.

She leaned back on the wall and continued to stare at this woman in the mirror and she wondered where this woman had come from and where all the years had gone? She didn’t know if she should cry, scream, or just accept this new reality, but in stunned silence she did nothing but continue to stare at her new reflection.

She felt her body begin to crumble and she sank to the floor with tears streaming down her face. In an attempt at comfort, she wrapped her arms around herself and cried. Accepting the new reality that she did not indeed have an entire life left to do all that she wanted to do, was not on her list of things to do for today, and anger hit her like a brick and she picked herself up off the floor and once again faced the woman looking back at her in the mirror.

As she stared into those red and tired eyes, the anger began to soften as she recognized the soft, loving eyes looking back at her. As she looked at her body again and all the scars and wrinkles, she realized they were all symbols of her memories, some good and some bad, but all with a memory attached to them and the evidence of a life lived.

She smiled a sympathetic smile back at her reflection and knew she would eventually accept this new reality, but it wasn’t going to be today. Today she was scared and overwhelmed and needed time to process all she had discovered, but she also felt the flicker of a new determination building inside herself, the determination she would need to move past the fear and into this next phase of her life.

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Their Last Goodbye

He sat on the edge of her bed, holding her hand tenderly and whispering sweetly to her. She lay there in her hospice bed, looking at him with both love and confusion, but it was clear that she loved what he was saying.

I was sitting in a chair across the room feeling like an intruder, but I couldn’t get myself to leave. The pure love I felt in this intimate moment was mesmerizing and even though I might have been wrong in staying, I also felt honored to witness the last moments between these two.

They had a long history filled with love, family, struggles, and adventures. But in their final moments together, all that mattered was their love for one another and the final words they could share.

I strained to hear their conversation and at the same time, tried not to listen. It was a special and unique moment I knew would never happen again, yet I was still unsure of what to do. Neither of them seemed to be aware of my presence, as their focused attention was on each other, so selfishly I decided to stay and witness this rare and beautiful moment.

She started to speak quietly and he leaned in further, turning his ear towards her mouth. Once she was finished, he turned his face back to her and smiled so sweetly. “You’re pretty cute for a French girl!”, I heard him say to her as tears flowed down my face. She whispered back and he replied, “I love you too!”

He held her hand for a few moments more as she drifted off to sleep. He quietly leaned in once more and gently kissed her on the forehead, stood up and left the room.

She died a few days later.

I witnessed a pure and beautiful moment that day and I am forever grateful for being allowed into their last goodbye.

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George

The pain in my stomach began as a dull cramp that Sunday afternoon. Maybe it was something I had eaten or perhaps the fact that I hadn’t eaten any lunch but instead powered through my errands. But whatever it was, the pain was increasing and the last one had me bent over in an effort to relieve the increasing pain. My daughter was in her room downstairs and my husband had gone to our room to take a nap. I was alone, except for George who insisted on following me from room to room, acting as my shadow as I attempted to relieve the growing pain in my stomach.

I was on the floor on all fours in an awkward position trying to find relief for the pain that was no longer subsiding. As I picked my head up and looked straight ahead, George was looking me in the eye, his dark eyes filled with concern. I paced down the hallway and back with my mind racing, wondering if this pain was severe enough to justify a trip to Urgent Care on a Sunday evening and I found myself irritated by the fact that George was in my way and I kept tripping over him.

I went into the bedroom to lie down, hoping that by laying down on my side some of the pain would subside. As I lay down on my side, George immediately jumped up and lay down beside me dropping his muscular body on my stomach, which increased the pain and I moaned and told him to get off the bed. After less than a minute, the pain increased significantly and I got out of bed in a panicked attempt to again find some way to stop the pain.

My sporadic activity didn’t deter George at all; he immediately jumped up and followed me down the hall in my next attempt to relieve the pain. Back in the living room, I bent over again at the waist, then squatting and doing a few deep breaths. I got back down on all fours in another awkward attempt to find relief and then walked to the kitchen and drank a glass of water. Nothing was helping and I began to cry. I hadn’t felt this kind of pain since childbirth but even then the pain would at least subside between contractions. I didn’t know what to do and I looked at George and asked him what I should do. He looked at me with love and compassion but he had no answers.

I went into our bedroom to wake up my husband and tell him to bring me to the hospital – but I hesitated once again, refusing to believe there was anything so wrong with me that would need emergency care. I turned to walk away from the bed and there again was George, his big dark eyes filled with concern and his intense face so focused on me.

But even then his concern, compassion, and love weren’t clear to me. He just seemed to be clinging to me and in my pain, his intensity was annoying me as I attempted to deny the severity of the pain.

After two hours of this increasing pain, pacing and putting myself in distorted positions – it was clear what I needed to do, so I finally woke up my husband and said, “I need to go to the hospital!”

He got up and our daughter came up from her room downstairs and I finally felt better as my family surrounded me. As I sat down on the step to enjoy a fleeting moment of relief from the pain, George came over to me and put his face close to mine. It was then that I finally realized that this little guy had forgone his nap with Dad, one of his favorite things, just to stay next to my side in a show of support and love. He was family and he had been surrounding me for the past two hours. He didn’t do this to gain points, or because it was his job, or as a way to suck up, he did this because of his unconditional love for me, his loyalty to me as a member of his family, and just because that is who he is. He cares, he loves and he is devoted to his family.

I’m sorry I didn’t recognize this love and loyalty from George right away. In retrospect, I see it clearly and also realize the value of it and how blessed I am to have this from him. This soul whose life started with such negativity, fear, and pain at the hands of human beings, found a way to look past his past and exhibit sincere love, concern, and encouragement to another human being who was feeling fear and pain.

This muscle-bound pit bull who had been viewed as evil by some and treated as a prizefighter with little value by others was treating me as a precious being who deserved his love and protection. I am amazed by his innate ability to forgive, love, and encourage. I am blown away by his unconditional compassion and tenderness. This little guy, who scared some, infuriated others and was viewed as disposable by others, loved me, cared about me, and thought of nothing other than me as I struggled through my pain for two hours that afternoon.

George is an amazing soul. He has taught me about patience, compassion, and loyalty. He is a gift, a lesson, an inspiration, a pit bull, and a friend. I am humbled by his presence in my life and I now know that I am a better human being for having this loving pit bull in my life.

I did go to the hospital that night and ended up there for three days. When I came home that Wednesday afternoon, George was waiting for me. He was humble, concerned, and patient with me as I continued to push him away from my stomach.

I am only human, George; selfish, self-preserving, and impatient. Please forgive me as I struggle to become the kind of inspiration to others as you are to me.

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These Two Women

I was an observer on the sidelines as a close friend supported her husband in his battle with cancer and eventually, as he lost his battle. Her strength was inspiring, her resilience unending and the sacrifices she made along the way, were admirable, to say the least.

As I approached her at the funeral, I saw such pain and anguish in her eyes that it took my breath away and all I could do was put my arms around her and hug her tightly. I was at a complete loss for words; what do you say to someone who has just spent the last year and a half of her life, watching her soul-mate lose his. As the tears ran down our faces, I love you was all either of us could say, but it was enough, for the moment.

Another close friend is also by her husband’s side as he is facing his battle with cancer. Her positive attitude and sense of humor have not faltered even slightly. She continues each day with the determination of a woman hell-bent on kicking cancer’s ass, but at the same time understanding her reality.

These two women have helped me realize that I need to show up each day with gratitude and a realization that it’s who you have in your life that matters, not what. That life is too short and that I need to use the dreams and passion in my heart to make a difference wherever I can.

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Her Legacy

My Mom, like most moms of her generation, had a recipe box. It was a simple wooden box holding standard-sized recipe cards with a flat cover and a small wooden cube attached on top that was used as a handle.

It was filled mostly with handwritten recipes, a few magazine recipes she’d collected over the years and a few random pieces of paper, tucked in here and there, with simple directions, like the one that described how to make Lutefisk in the microwave. It was an ordinary recipe box by all definitions, blending into the background of her life for many years and it only stopped being ordinary the day she died.

As we were sorting through her things one day, I opened a kitchen cupboard and saw this simple wooden recipe box. As I pulled it out of the cupboard, memories of a childhood spent baking and cooking with her flooded my mind and eyes.

This small insignificant little box suddenly looked like a priceless treasure I had discovered in the midst of an ordinary kitchen. The bonus was seeing her handwriting on each card and a memory attached to each recipe. I had found a treasure and a way of keeping her alive in my heart and in my kitchen.

Many people spend their lives building a legacy to pass on. A way to leave their mark on the world, or at least their small corner of it; in hopes that their life will make a difference to someone. At that moment, this small wooden box became her legacy to me.

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Two Ladies

There are two elderly ladies in my family who hold a special place in my heart, Elaine, who died of a stroke at the age of 78 and Catherine, who at the age of almost 84 has slowed down, but is still full of life. It was only recently though, that I realized how much these two have in common.

Their smiles were unique to each of them, but both of them sweet and endearing. Elaine’s smile was slightly crooked and Catherine’s curls up slightly on each side. Both of them having a twinkle in their eyes that made you wonder what they were up to and watching that twinkle go out in one and begin to fade in the other fills me with a sense of loss.

The gray around their faces became more prominent with each passing year and I loved to tease them both about it even though I have my own share of gray.

They both had a silly sense of humor, which explained the twinkling eyes, and Catherine occasionally still plays little tricks on me that I fall for every time, and then she walks around with a big “gotcha” smirk on her face.

They each had their share of struggles but grew in confidence and grace with each one. That confidence and grace began to fade in each of them and I saw uncertainty replace that confidence and turn to confusion and fear during the simplest tasks. Hesitation becoming the norm, especially at the bottom of the staircase and in getting out of bed.

Watching them eat becomes a test of patience, but seeing how much they enjoy their food, makes it bearable. Until the time you put their favorite food in front of them and they look at it with uncertainty and suspicion.

Talking to them requires increased volume and repeating yourself a few times and most often requires you to look them directly in the face. I try so hard to be patient and keep a smile on my face because I know it’s not their fault, its only age robbing them of their vitality.

All of these subtle changes start out harmless enough, but over time they become actions that break your heart. These actions taunt you and scream at you with the painful reality that your time with them is limited. I clearly know it’s true, as one of these ladies is already gone, so I find a way each day to deny the fact that soon the other will also be gone, which fills my heart with sadness and my eyes with tears.

These two elderly ladies have both made a big impact on my life and watching them grow old has been a life experience I will never forget. I have learned different lessons from each of them and have become a better person because of their presence in my life and I am forever grateful to them both.

Elaine is my mother and she’s been gone for almost five years now and I miss her each and every day. Catherine is our American Bull Dog and one of my best friends. She is almost twelve now, 84 in dog years, and the thought of losing her fills me with dread.

The biggest lesson I have learned from these two ladies is that when a beautiful soul comes into your life, it doesn’t matter if they are human or animal because a beautiful soul in any form is still a beautiful soul.

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We Got a Puppy!

Her name is Ania, she’s 15 weeks old, she’s a Belgian Malinois and she’s from Poland.  These are the facts, the rest is my perspective.

The “We” I speak of is my husband Michael, me, four dogs: George, 11; Catherine, 10; Lucy, 10; Molly 8, and Maggie (our cat) 12. Having a Belgian Malinois was my husband’s dream, I was happy with where we were.

My husband is an adventurer and always thinks outside of the box and most often I fight his ideas, at first. His ideas most often fluster me, as I’m the kind of person that likes things planned out, organized, tidy and inside the box, all of which a puppy is not. I have learned over the years, however, that when I step back and let him dream and research his ideas, I get caught up in the excitement and the adventure and start to look forward to what’s to come, while at the same time fearing the unknown and feeling the need to object. Through experience though, I have learned that each time I’ve allowed myself to go with the flow and follow his excitement and dreams, I have learned, grown and become a better person for it. So, we got a puppy!

As any dog owner knows, the stress of getting a puppy is overwhelming and seems unending. The interrupted sleep night after night, trying to keep up with the non-stop energy and the teaching of rules and boundaries and all the potty times outside tends to wear you out. Our schedules were already far too busy for a puppy; we had no free time or energy for anything more than what we already had. Being empty nesters, our lives were supposed to have gotten easier but nothing was further from the truth. We both have jobs, a house too large for us, four dogs, one cat, fourteen grandchildren and a love of travel. Our lives were full with no room for much else, I thought. But we got a puppy!

Ania is a stunningly beautiful puppy. Her round, black eyes light up her face which is a deep and almost shiny black and her ears, also black, stand up tall and straight on the top of her head except for the times she leans them both into each other which forms a triangle and makes her look like she’s wearing a hat. Her undercarriage, including the inside of her legs, is also the same deep black but the outside of her legs and the rest of her body is a mixture of cinnamon and tan with black thin lines of deep charcoal color lightly speckling her body and giving her coat a mixture of cinnamon, tan and black. Her tail is long and thick with the same tri-coloring with the black becoming more prominent as you go towards the end, with the last two inches being totally black.

She bursts out of her kennel each morning filled with energy and joy which spreads across her face as if each moment promises a new adventure.  What a difference that would make in my day if I woke up that way each day.  She’s smart, funny, gentle and extremely loving. Even when she’s scolded by one of us or one of the other dogs, she takes it in, steps away and then comes back just as happy and loving with no self-pity or bad feelings. She’s a ray of sunshine.

Nothing seems to get done anymore as having five dogs requires constant supervision. The dust is piling up on furniture, yard work is waiting and even the vacuum cleaner has dust on it, there’s just no time.  Successfully getting housework done is on my list of “To Do”s, but because of Ania, it has moved further down that list. My priorities are beginning to change and I think that’s a good thing. Here we are only five weeks in with Ania and she’s already taught me so much. 

There are moments I hate having a puppy in our life but in the next moment, I love it. She drives me crazy and fills my heart with joy. I come close to tears at times and then she makes me laugh. She’s a total annoyance yet a source of wisdom. She’s overwhelming and frustrating yet I’ve fallen in love with her and  I’m looking forward to watching her grow up.

The senior dogs in our house are used to a quiet life of long naps, meals and long walks, yet are now learning to tolerate her non-stop energy, enjoying playtime with her and are working toward acceptance of her in their lives. We’re becoming a family; we got a puppy and we are blessed!