Sisterhood of the Comfy Socks

I came across this picture

2011-12-22T10:29:00.000-08:00

I came across this photograph of my daughter Vanessa and niece Jenna laughing in their grandmother's kitchen thirty years ago. Love, love, love this picture. Our family loves to laugh, and we do a lot of that when we get together.

When my niece recently visited, I talked them into repeating the photo, this time thirty years later.

Instead of holding a doll this time, Vanessa held my grandson Finn. They haven't changed a bit, have they. : )

We celebrated Christmas with the family a week earlier in Bastrop, Texas, at a beautiful place called The Lost Pines Resort. We also celebrated my parents' 60th wedding anniversary. What a milestone!

And we laughed a lot.

One Country, One People, One History

2011-02-02T08:51:00.000-08:00

Oh, for the day

when Americans are categorized by citizenship, character ,

& contributions to mankind;

when colors refer to our flag instead of

a label to brandish as a crutch or bully stick ;

when our history is one history,

undivided , & with liberty & justice for all .

-- Just had to get this out of my head. dvc

Can you play?

2010-12-15T11:28:00.000-08:00

That was the text message I received this morning from one of my Comfy Sock sistas. Christy's coming into town tomorrow to help her daughter-in-law/my daughter get her house back in order after they finish putting down new hardwood flooring on almost the entire first floor. It's looking beautiful: http://www.nessadeeart.blogspot.com/

After over a year, the Sisterhood of the Comfy Socks finally had a get-together the second Saturday in November. Susan brought a stack of beautiful cashmere scarves to choose from, and we each wore our scarves to Georgetown for the day.

I know, I know... my red scarf clashes with magenta, but it looks great with my coats. We traveled to Georgetown and just happened to hit one of their market days, so we shopped and browsed until we were ready to drop. Loved the polished stone booth and learning about rocks. Found a great buy on some beautiful necklaces, which I bought for my gift drawer, but I've worn every one of them since, so I'm going to have to go back and get some more. We had a leisurely lunch and actually conversed instead of shoveled the food in our mouths like some of us do normally. (me).

Such a pleasant respite in the midst of our hectic days. I love our times together; I always learn something new about them or myself; and I always come away so thankful to have such loving, kind, smart, beautiful, and compassionate friends.

I texted Christy back that I could come out to play this weekend.

A New Journey

2010-10-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

Finn, his Nonna, and Mom in March, 2007

Around April of 2009, only six months after my parents moved to Taylor with me, my mother began to slur her words in the evenings. We made the connection that fatigue seemed to bring it on, and doctors' tests ruled out stroke or complications from diabetes. After a while, the slurring began to take over more of Mom's day, showing up as soon as noon, so after some painful tests, a neurologist diagnosed the problem as myasthenia gravis (MG), an incurable auto-immune disease. She had tested negative for it, but the doctor said that about 25% of patients with MG do. We were relieved to learn that it was not usually fatal, and medicines would be able to correct her speech.

Like most everyone who is handed a strange diagnosis, we learned everything we could about MG, and the doctor started her on a treatment that should've improved her speech. It didn't. So the neurologist scheduled aseries of infusion treatments-- very expensive and very time consuming-- four hours a day for five days. He said if it was MG, she would show an immediate improvement. She didn't.

Several months passed by and Mom's slurring began to encompass the entire day. On July 15, 2010, the neurologist put her through some more painful tests, and with the collaboration of another doctor, they came back with a different diagnosis: ALS or Lou Gehrig's disease. We were devastated, as we knew this was a fatal diagnosis. When Mom first started slurring her words, I remembered that an Internet search turned up ALS as one of the first hits, and I was so relieved to learn she had MG. But she didn't.

The first week was the worst-- we were mourning losing her, and she was still with us. The following morning after the diagnosis, I took her to the beauty shop-- her usual once a week visit, and tried to act normal when nothing felt normal. When I picked her up, we both started crying, and Mom would just wail every so often. I'd never heard her cry like that, and she was trying to tell me it was the disease that made her more emotional and that it was hard for her to stop once she started. She's always been the strong one in our family-- strong for everyone else, and I told her that when something deeply saddened me, I would wail this uncontrollable sound-- that was just normal for me and most everyone else. And I told her it was okay for her to start acting like the rest of us. : ) It's time we were strong for her.

So now we started looking up everything we could about ALS, and my brother found a lot of testimonials about the connection between Statins (cholesterol medicines) and the symptoms of ALS-- muscle weakness, dropping things or falling, speech slurring, difficulty swallowing. My mother has taken cholesterol meds for nineteen years. We read that Statins depleted COQ10 in our bodies, and that doctors were supposed to be prescribing that along with the cholesterol meds or it makes the body susceptible to the damage free radicals can cause, which can lead to auto-immune diseases such as MG or ALS. A number of the adults in our family are on cholesterol medicines, and none of us had been told that.

Mom said she'd rather die of a heart attack than ALS, so she stopped taking her cholesterol medicine. I noticed that my ankle or knee had been giving out when I get up or walk, almost making me fall, so I cut my cholesterol medicine in half and started supplementing COQ10. My legs haven't given out since.

Then on day six after the diagnosis, I learned that a good friend of mine had lost her mother suddenly, and my perspective changed 180 degrees. I realized I still had time with my mother, so I began to look at this time as a gift. I started recording her memories and stories. I treasure each moment I have with her. I still have moments of intense sadness-- and when I need to, I let myself cry on the way to work or on the way home from work, but not around her. I'll save the mourning for later; I don't want her to see me depressed and debilitatingly sad during the remaining time I have with her.

About a decade ago we had a scare of losing her when her heart rate went so low that she passed out, and they immediately put a pacemaker in her chest. Her father died of heart problems in his fifties when Mom was around thirteen years old. My mother is almost 77, and I'm so grateful she's lived in this day and age of medical technology that saved and extended her life.

She told me several years ago that if something was to happen to her, to know that she has lived a good life and has enjoyed every bit of it, and that her family has been the best part of it. I really didn't want to hear her talking about death back then, but now I'm glad we can say whatever needs to be said. And I want to leave nothing unsaid between us. We all need to be able to talk about the future and plans, including our own funeral plans and where we want to be laid to rest.
Now ALS feels like an unwelcome guest in our home. We know he's there and what he's planning to do, but we refuse to let him steal our joy. Mom's humor is still intact-- she's a hoot to be around. And she's still queen of the kitchen, thank heavens. I'm the dish-washer and floor mopper. It's getting harder to understand some of her words, and we're looking into a device that will help her communicate more easily. I know people are uncomfortable about that; I am, too, around individuals that I don't understand. But Mom refuses to hide at home (like I probably would), and she'll keep on going until she can't. She's amazing.
Mom and Dad went to Branson, Missouri, with the Church's Primetimers group last month and had a ball. She loves parties and game nights, and makes it a point to attend those, too. She still volunteers at the hospital one afternoon a week, and the sweet lady she usually works with has had to take a leave of absence to take care of her husband. Mom learned that the new woman's husband had ALS, so she knew exactly what Mom is going through. She told us where we need to get plugged into-- a support clinic in San Antonio that was a huge help to her. We recognized a divine connection through that. I love how God loves and tenderly cares for my parents.

And we now know why He put it on their hearts to move up here to Taylor with me, although it was hard pulling up 40+ years of roots in Cotulla. They miss Cotulla and their friends and church, and their bodies will return there when their time on this earth is through. But in the meantime, they've jumped in and become a part of this community and church, and will continue to live and work and serve here until God calls them home.

How do people cope without the hope of being with their loved ones after this life? I'm so glad death is not the end, but the beginning of life how it was meant to be.

Epiphanies

2009-11-21T17:32:00.000-08:00

It was such a shock to me to realize my parents and our family life were the exception, not the rule. To learn that gave me a new appreciation for my upbringing. And when I hear people say that all families are dysfunctional, I would have to disagree.

I questioned for the tenth time what I was doing in a mind-numbing job that on one hand only allowed me to check books in, check books out, and tell students where the bathroom and the bookstore were located… after I had previously managed every aspect of a public library for nine years. Then God helped me realize that it’s not necessarily the job in which He has placed me that is nearly as important as the people He has placed me around.

A parent’s presents should not replace a parent’s presence. And I would’ve missed so much if I hadn’t been the permanent sponsor who always volunteered to go. Until I realized that, being a children’s or youth’s sponsor was a chore, not the blessing it turned out to be.

Urges should not be the only justification for our motives or actions or lifestyles. If being true to oneself does not line up with God’s truth, one is living a lie.

The gray area of life is not as big as many folks would have us believe these days.

No matter who is teaching my children, whether it involves formal education or spiritual education or social education, my children’s training for life is ultimately my responsibility.

I love animals… especially dogs, but I should never place them above people in value.

If we don’t use our gifts, we’ll lose them. Not an original epiphany, but so true.

The root of all sin is self-centeredness.

Not everybody likes me.

I never really thought much about being a grandmother… much less looked forward to it, but oh, what a wonderful surprise when it happened! Pure joy! And I’m not talking about the kind of joy you get when you find a ten dollar bill in your coat pocket you didn’t know was there or the joy you feel when you discover you’ve zipped up your favorite jeans without a struggle. Those are piddlin’ joys. A grandchild is the mother lode of joy.

The best and most rewarding part of my life was raising my children. It wasn’t always easy; I didn’t always do the best job; but they are the best part of me, and I’m so grateful for them in my life. And now I have a ringside seat watching my daughter & son-in-law get to do it with my grandchildren. Everything else in life pales in comparison.

The big things in life are turning out to be the little things in life.

I’m not nearly as young as my mind thinks I am.

I didn’t realize how fortunate I was to have been born in America until I crossed the Mexico border. We breathe the same air; the same kinds of flora and fauna exist on both sides; the same flying insects pester both sides; but the people and the culture of a stone’s throw away are worlds apart. Where else in the world but the United States can you find poor people who own televisions and refrigerators and have government-subsidized housing and groceries and healthcare? As one woman in Guatemala said, “Oh, to be poor and living in America.” For us, those things are the bare necessities, but for people on the outside looking in, those are luxuries… those are their wildest dreams.

There is nothing I can do or nothing I can’t do that will make God love me more or less than he does right now. What a relief. I am so thankful that I am living in the age of grace, especially since I would have a problem sacrificing animals, but even more so because I’ve sinned once… and a thousand times, so under the law, I’m condemned. Under grace, I’m saved.

The most important thing about life isn’t ultimately about good or bad or a big scale our works have to balance, but rather yes or no… to Christ.