I can't believe my most recent post was in August! That seems like a million years ago. So much has happened - some of it mundane - just nuisance stuff, some of it frightening, or even right down gut wrenching.
In September my sis and I flew to California to spend some time with Dick's wife, Nancy. We were there for a week, including the time she was off work for Labor Day. We had a great time visiting with Nancy and all their kids' families. It seemed weird that Dick wasn't there, and their house has been totally rearranged with new furniture, flooring, and the like - NOTHING is the same. We understand why that might be helpful for Nancy to move on, but it felt really weird and hurt just a little. The time flew by and before we knew it it was time to get back on the plane and head home. Next time we'll plan to stay a little longer.
In October Darrell had laser eye surgery to correct a "wrinkled" macula. His vision had deteriorated to the point where he could hardly see at all out of that one eye. The surgery was a quickie outpatient thing that caused only minor discomfort for a day or two. Since then, his vision has recovered almost to that of a teenager. Now his "good" eye is the weaker one, and he would like the doctor to agree to do the same surgery on the other eye. But there are no wrinkles to smooth out there, so no-can-do! Isn't it fabulous that they can do all this stuff to make our lives better. At least that holds true for SOME things, speaking from a medical standpoint. With some other things, not so much!
With November came Thanksgiving. For many years (mostly since our kids are married with in-laws) we have scheduled our Thanksgiving dinner for the weekend immediately after Thanksgiving. That way there's no fuss about whose folks we ate with last year, etc., etc. It's just easier that way. There were 25 of us for dinner this year. I was one happy mama, with all my kids and grandkids under our roof. We had far too much food (would you believe 9 pies) and had a wonderful time together.
The first couple of weeks in December have been something to remember. After days of sub-freezing temperatures, our water pipes froze and we had no running water in the house for a whole week. We have a well, and the pipes froze between the pumphouse and the house. I learned that you can (sorta!) bathe using only a half gallon of water, but I have to add that I can't heartily recommend it. The first thing we did when the pipes thawed was to run a deep, hot bath - it felt heavenly after a week of "spit baths." Yuck!
The second thing that December brought was the news that our youngest grandson, Trask (age 7), has some serious vision problems that gave us a pretty good scare. At first we were told he faced probable total blindness. He now has been diagnosed with amblyopia (lazy eye), which if left untreated can cause significant life-long vision loss, and nystagmus (you'll have to Google that one - it's complicated to explain). At any rate, the doctor who examined him is a professor at Oregon Eye Institute and they are going to take Trask on as a class project, since they have never seen this particular combination of eye diseases. He will receive low-cost cutting edge treatment through the institute for the next five years. What a blessing and a fantastic answer to our prayers concerning this little guy and his future. God is so good!
The last and far more significant December event was the loss of three climbers up on Mt. Hood, one of which was a precious young man from our church family (we attend The Bridge Church in Longview). Very early Friday morning, December 11, the three close friends, two guys and a young woman, headed up Mt. Hood for a brief one-day climb. The weather was gorgeous and they planned to be back down the mountain in time to be home by evening. The young man from our church (Anthony Vietti) has been dating our pastor's daughter for almost two years and was very close to their family. When at 10:30 that night there was no word from Anthony, the pastor's family became very concerned and contacted the authorities on the mountain. They immediately began the process to search for the three climbers. They continued the search through this past Wednesday.
I hadn't turned on on my computer last Saturday to see the flurry of emails from the pastor until late in the afternoon, so we were oblivious through the day that all of this was happening. I had heard a little blurb on Saturday morning's news about three lost climbers, but they gave no details about their names, etc., and I paid only a little attention. Then when I read the emails, I realized the news reports were talking about our own Anthony and his two friends. On Saturday they found the body of Luke Gullberg, one of the young men - not Anthony. But there was no sign of him or Katie, the young woman. Indications were that Luke was probably scurrying down the mountain to go for help for either Anthony or Katie, who had likely had some sort of accident. We will never know exactly what really happened. Luke had sustained a fall, but his injuries were not what took his life. He died of hypothermia after falling, apparently numerous times. When I heard that, my heart sank, fearing the worst for Anthony & Katie, but hoping against hope to be wrong. Needless to say, Sunday morning's church service consisted of prayer, worship, tears, and more prayer. The end of the story was ultimately not what we hoped for, and they eventually were forced to call off the search due to severe weather conditions. That, along with facing the fact that Anthony and Katie were probably not able to stay alive in the snowstorms and bitter cold temperatures that prevailed.
I don't know if it's because my emotions are still a bit raw after losing my brother in March, or??? But this has hit me particularly hard. I have had trouble sleeping, waking up every hour or so. It's hard to enjoy lying in my comfy warm bed knowing that Anthony and Katie are out there somewhere up on the mountain.
A group from our church family got together last night just to lean on each other, share, eat goodies, worship and pray together. What a healing balm that was! It was awesome to hear stories of Anthony's quirks, humor, and the far-reaching influence of his Godly life. There were lots of tears (thank goodness for lotion tissues for raw, red noses!) and a good share of hilarious laughter, sharing memories of Anthony and reaffirming our faith in God's love and mercy. I have to confess to questioning God. Anthony was such a strong positive influence on the kids in our church (and in the community at large). At age 24 had SO MUCH yet to give.
But this is where the rubber meets the road, folks. This is when the depth of our faith and trust are truly tested. Do I REALLY trust that He is just, merciful and loving? I have to admit that for ever so brief a time this past week, I felt sure that I could come up with a better plan. Come on, God - what are you thinking! I keep fantasizing about those two bursting into the lodge at Timberline, red-faced, weak and frostbitten. But that isn't going to happen. So many, many people prayed (entire church services), and this time God said, "No." And I'm really OK with that now. I have been given the clarity to see that God DOES have a plan, and it's surely a far better one that I could ever come up with. Safe in the arms of Jesus! It doesn't get any better than that!!
I am SO hugely inspired by the faith and strength of the people involved who were closest to the three - the families of the climbers, and those from our church family who knew Anthony best. They are at peace, resting in the assurance that all three had totally dedicated their lives to Christian service and living 100% for Him. That, in addition to the knowledge that this life is just a vapor, quickly evaporating in the heat of our earthly trials. We know we'll all be together again when Jesus comes to take us home to heaven. Come, Lord Jesus!
I love you all so much!
Joanne
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Pass the Kleenex!
Hi, everyone: I’m feeling kinda badly about something, and I wanted to share my little hurt with y’all who are dear to me.
We have a little apple tree not far from our back door. For the past several weeks a little doe and her twin fawns, still with their spotted coats, have come to the back yard in the early evening to graze one of the remaining areas where our grass is green, and to check for apples that may have fallen from the tree. We’ve even been known to grab an apple or two from our fridge and toss it out under the tree for her to find. We also filled a big bucket with water and put it nearby so she and her babies can find water, a real scarcity during our recent heat wave.
Over the weeks, we had begun to gain the trust of these beautiful creatures. We could stand as close as 15 or 20 feet away, talking softly to them. They looked our way now and then, but kept feeding as long as we made no sudden moves or loud sounds. We began to look forward to their frequent visits to our back yard.
Then, this past Thursday we went to town. We had progressed down the road only as far as our nearest neighbor’s driveway, and there in the ditch just beyond their driveway, lying on her back was our beautiful mama doe, obviously dead. We discussed that perhaps it could be some “other” deer, but in our hearts we knew it was our girl. The trip to town was made with barely a word spoken between us – it's hard to speak with that giant lump in your throat. When we did talk, we spoke of the preciousness of life, all life, and the cruelty of this world. (“Bless the beasts and the children, for in this world they have no voice, they have no choice.” Lyrics from one of my favorite Karen Carpenter songs.)
It gets worse! We went to our beach house on Saturday morning to spend a little time doing some much-needed chores there. When we returned home Sunday afternoon, I walked out to the mailbox at the end of our driveway to get Saturday’s mail. My heart stopped when I noticed a tan lump lying in the gravel on the roadside across from our driveway. We hadn’t noticed it when we had just driven past, so I walked over to see if it was what I feared it to be. Sure enough, there was one of the little spotted twin fawns, a second victim of innocence and the world’s cruelty. We haven't seen hide-nor-hair of the second fawn, and have no idea whether he is still alive. All alone out there he might have become some predator's lunch. Gee, I hope not!
Now, I know that every year hunters go out in droves to legally (and illegally, I might add) take the lives of hundreds of these beautiful animals. They do it big-time right here in my own “neck of the woods.” During hunting season, large numbers of hunters drive past our house in their tall pickup trucks, dressed in their camo hunting garb, one after another after another. My son (an avid hunter) even tells me that hunting is good for the deer population (otherwise many would starve during the winter when food is too scarce to be shared by large herds - blah, blah, blah). I understand that it’s just part of life, but I will never embrace the idea, nor could I EVER bring myself to purposely kill one of those innocent, delicate creatures with their soft brown eyes and the sweetest of faces - a strong case for being a vegetarian (I will NEVER eat venison!).
I DID kill something once, however. Very early one morning a couple of years ago I was driving 70 m.p.h. (the posted speed limit in our area) on the nearly-deserted freeway, and out of nowhere a coyote dashed out in front of me. There was no way to avoid hitting him without wrecking the car and possibly endangering my own life. Mine was the only vehicle on the freeway for miles, but somehow he chose that unfortunate moment to cross the freeway. I still cringe when I remember the awful thud of my bumper striking him as he frantically rushed to make it across without getting hit. He didn’t make it, and I felt sick inside, even though it was just a pesky coyote.
I guess the lesson here is that thankfully this cruel world is not our home. We’re just a-passin’ through to a place where nothing will ever again be hurt or injured or die from some awful tragedy. Not from cancer or accidents or predators. I’m so thankful for that sweet assurance!
I love you all!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Psalm 40:1-3 (TLB)
I waited patiently for God to help me, and He listened and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out from the bog and the mire, and set my feet on a hard, firm path and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, of praises to our God. Now many will hear of the glorious things he did for me and stand in awe before the Lord, and put their trust in Him.
We have a little apple tree not far from our back door. For the past several weeks a little doe and her twin fawns, still with their spotted coats, have come to the back yard in the early evening to graze one of the remaining areas where our grass is green, and to check for apples that may have fallen from the tree. We’ve even been known to grab an apple or two from our fridge and toss it out under the tree for her to find. We also filled a big bucket with water and put it nearby so she and her babies can find water, a real scarcity during our recent heat wave.
Over the weeks, we had begun to gain the trust of these beautiful creatures. We could stand as close as 15 or 20 feet away, talking softly to them. They looked our way now and then, but kept feeding as long as we made no sudden moves or loud sounds. We began to look forward to their frequent visits to our back yard.
Then, this past Thursday we went to town. We had progressed down the road only as far as our nearest neighbor’s driveway, and there in the ditch just beyond their driveway, lying on her back was our beautiful mama doe, obviously dead. We discussed that perhaps it could be some “other” deer, but in our hearts we knew it was our girl. The trip to town was made with barely a word spoken between us – it's hard to speak with that giant lump in your throat. When we did talk, we spoke of the preciousness of life, all life, and the cruelty of this world. (“Bless the beasts and the children, for in this world they have no voice, they have no choice.” Lyrics from one of my favorite Karen Carpenter songs.)
It gets worse! We went to our beach house on Saturday morning to spend a little time doing some much-needed chores there. When we returned home Sunday afternoon, I walked out to the mailbox at the end of our driveway to get Saturday’s mail. My heart stopped when I noticed a tan lump lying in the gravel on the roadside across from our driveway. We hadn’t noticed it when we had just driven past, so I walked over to see if it was what I feared it to be. Sure enough, there was one of the little spotted twin fawns, a second victim of innocence and the world’s cruelty. We haven't seen hide-nor-hair of the second fawn, and have no idea whether he is still alive. All alone out there he might have become some predator's lunch. Gee, I hope not!
Now, I know that every year hunters go out in droves to legally (and illegally, I might add) take the lives of hundreds of these beautiful animals. They do it big-time right here in my own “neck of the woods.” During hunting season, large numbers of hunters drive past our house in their tall pickup trucks, dressed in their camo hunting garb, one after another after another. My son (an avid hunter) even tells me that hunting is good for the deer population (otherwise many would starve during the winter when food is too scarce to be shared by large herds - blah, blah, blah). I understand that it’s just part of life, but I will never embrace the idea, nor could I EVER bring myself to purposely kill one of those innocent, delicate creatures with their soft brown eyes and the sweetest of faces - a strong case for being a vegetarian (I will NEVER eat venison!).
I DID kill something once, however. Very early one morning a couple of years ago I was driving 70 m.p.h. (the posted speed limit in our area) on the nearly-deserted freeway, and out of nowhere a coyote dashed out in front of me. There was no way to avoid hitting him without wrecking the car and possibly endangering my own life. Mine was the only vehicle on the freeway for miles, but somehow he chose that unfortunate moment to cross the freeway. I still cringe when I remember the awful thud of my bumper striking him as he frantically rushed to make it across without getting hit. He didn’t make it, and I felt sick inside, even though it was just a pesky coyote.
I guess the lesson here is that thankfully this cruel world is not our home. We’re just a-passin’ through to a place where nothing will ever again be hurt or injured or die from some awful tragedy. Not from cancer or accidents or predators. I’m so thankful for that sweet assurance!
I love you all!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Psalm 40:1-3 (TLB)
I waited patiently for God to help me, and He listened and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out from the bog and the mire, and set my feet on a hard, firm path and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, of praises to our God. Now many will hear of the glorious things he did for me and stand in awe before the Lord, and put their trust in Him.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
It's me again!
Hi, all!
So, I have a question for you. If our normal body temperature is 98.6, why do we nearly melt when the temperature climbs up into the 90's? It seems odd to me that with our normal body temp, we feel most comfortable at 72 degrees - weird! The other thing is, we (me, included) whine all winter about the rain and the cold, and then when it gets sunny and warm, we rant and rave about the heat. I must admit, I've been pretty uncomfortable during this little heat wave. We're never happy, I guess.
OK, I have another totally unrelated question. Why is it that I no longer need to shave my legs (they're almost completely bald), but I seem to have a fair amount of unwanted hair sprouting above my upper lip, on my chin, and other parts of my face? I mean, I'm grateful to be blessed enough to enjoy the "perks" of getting older, but really... What's up with that!
Enough with the questions. We'll probably never know the answers, anyway! I'm spending a few days with my mom while my sis and her husband are in Canada visiting his family. They left Friday morning and will be home on Tuesday evening. We aren't comfortable leaving Mom alone for that length of time, and it gives me a chance to spend some time with her. We always have a great time together, basically doing nothing. We're doing some shopping and she cooks some of my favorite foods. It doesn't get any better than that (my two favorite pasttimes - shopping and food!). And she lets me sleep late (like when I was a teenager living at home). I slept till almost 9:00 yesterday! I haven't done that in a while.
Not much exciting happening at our house. My hubby and son have gone out to the beach house the past couple of weekends. They took our boat out on the ocean to fish for salmon. Last Sunday afternoon they arrived home with 16 beautiful salmon (yum!). So our freezer will be well-stocked for a while. A fresh salmon on the BBQ is not a bad thing! And it's good for us, too - such a deal!
I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with all I should be doing to catch up after being at my brother's for six months. I'm just beginning to get my feet back on the ground where I feel like taking on a household project. I DID manage to make several batches of strawberry jam a couple of weeks ago. We'll appreciate my efforts this winter when we're chowing down on toast and jam. I had hoped to do some raspberries, but they are so expensive! I want to make some apricot and blackberry jam before the season is over. I've never canned anything in my entire life, but I love to make jam - it gives me such satisfaction to see those pretty jars of jam all lined up in my pantry.
I'm amazed at everything we're hearing in the news lately - horrendous plane crashes, senseless murders, train wrecks, suicide bombings. And now the Taliban has kidnapped one of our boys. I saw a video this evening on the news, and the poor kid is scared out of his mind. I can only imagine how his family must be feeling right now. I'll bet their knees are calloused from a nonstop prayer vigil for their precious boy, just 23 years old, engaged to be married and hoping to come home and begin his "grown-up" life. Please, please pray for him (his name is Bowe - pronounced like "Beau," in case you missed the news story in the last couple of days). Pray for his safety and the courage to face his captors with strength and honor. Pray for his family.
I don't know about any of you, but Darrell & I get so embroiled and wrapped up in the daily "stuff" we have to do or deal with that we forget about the Big Picture going on all around us out there. You bet! Just like you, we have lots of concerns and frustrations happening in and to our family, and they are legitimate and worrisome. But I need to be reminded that it's not all about me and my life, and there's something bigger happening out there in the big world every minute of every day. I just need to notice. Maybe you need the same reminder...
Sorry to get all serious and maudlin on you. But it doesn't hurt to think about serious stuff now and then. There's Good News though. Although we do need to be aware - to take a moment to stop and think now and then - but we've read the end of The Book. And it ends so, so good! PTL!!!
Love you all SO MUCH!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Psalm 103:1-6 (LB)
I bless the holy name of God with all my heart. Yes, I will bless the Lord and not forget the glorious things he does for me.
He forgives all my sins. He heals me. He ransoms me from hell. He surrounds me with lovingkindness and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things! [Here's the best part:] My youth is renewed like the eagle's! He gives justice to all who are treated unfairly.
So, I have a question for you. If our normal body temperature is 98.6, why do we nearly melt when the temperature climbs up into the 90's? It seems odd to me that with our normal body temp, we feel most comfortable at 72 degrees - weird! The other thing is, we (me, included) whine all winter about the rain and the cold, and then when it gets sunny and warm, we rant and rave about the heat. I must admit, I've been pretty uncomfortable during this little heat wave. We're never happy, I guess.
OK, I have another totally unrelated question. Why is it that I no longer need to shave my legs (they're almost completely bald), but I seem to have a fair amount of unwanted hair sprouting above my upper lip, on my chin, and other parts of my face? I mean, I'm grateful to be blessed enough to enjoy the "perks" of getting older, but really... What's up with that!
Enough with the questions. We'll probably never know the answers, anyway! I'm spending a few days with my mom while my sis and her husband are in Canada visiting his family. They left Friday morning and will be home on Tuesday evening. We aren't comfortable leaving Mom alone for that length of time, and it gives me a chance to spend some time with her. We always have a great time together, basically doing nothing. We're doing some shopping and she cooks some of my favorite foods. It doesn't get any better than that (my two favorite pasttimes - shopping and food!). And she lets me sleep late (like when I was a teenager living at home). I slept till almost 9:00 yesterday! I haven't done that in a while.
Not much exciting happening at our house. My hubby and son have gone out to the beach house the past couple of weekends. They took our boat out on the ocean to fish for salmon. Last Sunday afternoon they arrived home with 16 beautiful salmon (yum!). So our freezer will be well-stocked for a while. A fresh salmon on the BBQ is not a bad thing! And it's good for us, too - such a deal!
I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with all I should be doing to catch up after being at my brother's for six months. I'm just beginning to get my feet back on the ground where I feel like taking on a household project. I DID manage to make several batches of strawberry jam a couple of weeks ago. We'll appreciate my efforts this winter when we're chowing down on toast and jam. I had hoped to do some raspberries, but they are so expensive! I want to make some apricot and blackberry jam before the season is over. I've never canned anything in my entire life, but I love to make jam - it gives me such satisfaction to see those pretty jars of jam all lined up in my pantry.
I'm amazed at everything we're hearing in the news lately - horrendous plane crashes, senseless murders, train wrecks, suicide bombings. And now the Taliban has kidnapped one of our boys. I saw a video this evening on the news, and the poor kid is scared out of his mind. I can only imagine how his family must be feeling right now. I'll bet their knees are calloused from a nonstop prayer vigil for their precious boy, just 23 years old, engaged to be married and hoping to come home and begin his "grown-up" life. Please, please pray for him (his name is Bowe - pronounced like "Beau," in case you missed the news story in the last couple of days). Pray for his safety and the courage to face his captors with strength and honor. Pray for his family.
I don't know about any of you, but Darrell & I get so embroiled and wrapped up in the daily "stuff" we have to do or deal with that we forget about the Big Picture going on all around us out there. You bet! Just like you, we have lots of concerns and frustrations happening in and to our family, and they are legitimate and worrisome. But I need to be reminded that it's not all about me and my life, and there's something bigger happening out there in the big world every minute of every day. I just need to notice. Maybe you need the same reminder...
Sorry to get all serious and maudlin on you. But it doesn't hurt to think about serious stuff now and then. There's Good News though. Although we do need to be aware - to take a moment to stop and think now and then - but we've read the end of The Book. And it ends so, so good! PTL!!!
Love you all SO MUCH!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Psalm 103:1-6 (LB)
I bless the holy name of God with all my heart. Yes, I will bless the Lord and not forget the glorious things he does for me.
He forgives all my sins. He heals me. He ransoms me from hell. He surrounds me with lovingkindness and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things! [Here's the best part:] My youth is renewed like the eagle's! He gives justice to all who are treated unfairly.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
She's Ba-a-a-a-a-a-ck!
Hi, all!
No, I haven’t died, been translated or abducted by aliens. I’ve just been somewhat emotionally immobilized these past three months since losing my brother. It’s not that I mope around and cry all the time. I miss him A LOT, but I really don’t. I just can’t seem to get moving again – can barely get even the basic stuff taken care of (meals, laundry, housecleaning, church, grandkids…). Somehow, shopping still comes quite easily, however (LOL). Thank goodness for that! Shopping (even for the mundane, like groceries) can be very therapeutic, you’ll have to agree.
It’s funny, but I’ve been especially melancholy today. The only thing I can attribute it to is that I exchanged emails this morning with Dick’s best friend, Larry, who keeps us posted on his newly-acquired chickens. He built them a ridiculously luxurious chicken “mansion,” and bought them as fluffy babies a number of weeks ago. I keep remembering one of the last times Dick, Sherry & I went next door to visit his neighbor’s chickens (which he dearly loved to do). He sat there quietly for several minutes and then he said, “I’d like to get some chickens next spring.” And then he began to cry (Sherry & I joined him very shortly) because he knew he probably wouldn’t be with us by spring, which sadly turned out to be true. I’ve had to keep pushing that memory to the back of my mind all day to keep the tears at bay. But I continue to have that little hollow, anxious, sad feeling just under my sternum. You know the one... I know I’ll be fine again tomorrow, though.
I’m trying to recall any major events that have happened since coming home on February 6. One biggie is that Darrell had all of his teeth extracted on February 9. He was so sick for over a month afterward – that’s quite a major assault on one’s body. Mostly it’s because he doesn’t do well with anesthesia or heavy-duty narcotic pain meds.
It was close to six weeks before he began feeling normal again. And now that his gums are all healed, his new teeth are a total pain in the posterior. He HATES them, with a Capital H! No kidding, he has threatened to run them over with the car or smash them to bits with a hammer. They don’t fit well, and he has trouble eating and talking, and singing is out of the question (far too many whistle-ey S’s) Poor baby, it sounds awful and he’s so embarrassed. The good news, however, is that the denturist is making him a whole new set. It seems that this is pretty routine and is almost always necessary. The entire mouth is horribly swollen after the extractions, and the initial set of dentures are crafted to accommodate the swelling – who knew! He hopes to have his new choppers within the next couple of weeks. I pray they are better for him.
Another thing is that Steven, our son, came home just a few days before I arrived in February. It’s been such a blessing to rebuild a relationship with him, even though there are still major bumps in the road. He has a sweet girlfriend whom he eventually brought with him all the way from Omaha, NE. She’s African American, which makes absolutely NO difference to us – she’s precious. We like her a whole lot, but guess what – he’s still married! She actually went back home to Omaha a couple of weeks ago, partially because he has taken no steps toward getting a divorce. We have no idea whether she’ll come back here to be with Steven. I’m certain his marriage is pretty much over, but neither of them has moved toward a divorce. He sees his children pretty regularly, which is a very good thing – for them and for him (the main reason he decided to come home). We’re trying to stay completely out of it and just roll with the punches. Believe me, he knows exactly how we feel about the situation, even though we’ve said very little.
I probably already sent each of you a message about Susan’s family working toward mission service in Gulu, Uganda (yup, that would be in deepest, darkest Africa!). They listed their house in May and have begun the deputation process (another word for fundraising). However, so far no bites on their house, and the fundraising is moving very slowly. As human parents/grandparents, we obviously have major misgivings about the whole thing. We just keep praying that God will open and close all the right doors in His perfect timing and according to His perfect plan. Don’t ask me – I’m just a human mom with human concerns and worries! Yikes!!!
Darrell & I and Sherry went last weekend (June 12-14) out to visit Susan & family. Audrey (second-born, age 17) graduated from an Associate of Science program that Friday evening. She graduated with honors (4.0 grade average!) even though she carried a double major. She plans to go to nursing school in the fall, and won’t be going with the family to Africa, should it come to pass by that time.
Then on Saturday afternoon we went to the annual ballet recital from the dance studio Susan’s family is affiliated with (I know, I know – you should never end a sentence with a preposition). Audrey danced her senior solo, which was so beautiful, and Madeline (age 14) danced several numbers in the program. Even Susan’s sweet hubby, Joe, did a tap dance number with a couple of other guys. It’s been so great for the family to be involved there at the dance studio. Susan has taught aerobics and Pilates classes there for the past several years to help with the cost of the children’s dance lessons. Hmmmmm… I wonder if they’d like to learn Pilates in Africa??? If I know my SuSu, she’ll be starting classes as soon as she arrives there.
Sandi continues to struggle with the pain and loss resulting from her unwanted ugly divorce. My heart breaks for her and for the kids – they are still so completely lost, devastated and heartbroken, and her ex loves to twist the knife at every opportunity. It’s so sad! Eighteen years is a long time to pour yourself so completely into something that ultimately collapses, and the love of your life becomes your worst enemy. Unfathomable!
Well, that’s about it from me for now. I actually enjoy keeping up with this blog thing, but I just haven’t been able to make myself sit down and do it until today. Would you please keep our entire family in your prayers.
Love to you all – thanks for your consistent support when I needed it most!
XOXO Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Ephesians 6:10-11, 13, 16, & 18 (TLB)
I want to remind you that your strength must come from the Lord’s mighty power within you. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand safe against all strategies and tricks of Satan.
So use every piece of God’s armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will still be standing up.
In every battle you will need faith as your shield to stop the fiery arrows aimed at you by Satan. And you will need the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit—which is the Word of God.
Pray all the time (without ceasing). Ask God for anything [that is] in line with the Holy Spirit’s wishes. Plead with Him, reminding Him of your needs, and keep praying earnestly for all Christians everywhere.
No, I haven’t died, been translated or abducted by aliens. I’ve just been somewhat emotionally immobilized these past three months since losing my brother. It’s not that I mope around and cry all the time. I miss him A LOT, but I really don’t. I just can’t seem to get moving again – can barely get even the basic stuff taken care of (meals, laundry, housecleaning, church, grandkids…). Somehow, shopping still comes quite easily, however (LOL). Thank goodness for that! Shopping (even for the mundane, like groceries) can be very therapeutic, you’ll have to agree.
It’s funny, but I’ve been especially melancholy today. The only thing I can attribute it to is that I exchanged emails this morning with Dick’s best friend, Larry, who keeps us posted on his newly-acquired chickens. He built them a ridiculously luxurious chicken “mansion,” and bought them as fluffy babies a number of weeks ago. I keep remembering one of the last times Dick, Sherry & I went next door to visit his neighbor’s chickens (which he dearly loved to do). He sat there quietly for several minutes and then he said, “I’d like to get some chickens next spring.” And then he began to cry (Sherry & I joined him very shortly) because he knew he probably wouldn’t be with us by spring, which sadly turned out to be true. I’ve had to keep pushing that memory to the back of my mind all day to keep the tears at bay. But I continue to have that little hollow, anxious, sad feeling just under my sternum. You know the one... I know I’ll be fine again tomorrow, though.
I’m trying to recall any major events that have happened since coming home on February 6. One biggie is that Darrell had all of his teeth extracted on February 9. He was so sick for over a month afterward – that’s quite a major assault on one’s body. Mostly it’s because he doesn’t do well with anesthesia or heavy-duty narcotic pain meds.
It was close to six weeks before he began feeling normal again. And now that his gums are all healed, his new teeth are a total pain in the posterior. He HATES them, with a Capital H! No kidding, he has threatened to run them over with the car or smash them to bits with a hammer. They don’t fit well, and he has trouble eating and talking, and singing is out of the question (far too many whistle-ey S’s) Poor baby, it sounds awful and he’s so embarrassed. The good news, however, is that the denturist is making him a whole new set. It seems that this is pretty routine and is almost always necessary. The entire mouth is horribly swollen after the extractions, and the initial set of dentures are crafted to accommodate the swelling – who knew! He hopes to have his new choppers within the next couple of weeks. I pray they are better for him.
Another thing is that Steven, our son, came home just a few days before I arrived in February. It’s been such a blessing to rebuild a relationship with him, even though there are still major bumps in the road. He has a sweet girlfriend whom he eventually brought with him all the way from Omaha, NE. She’s African American, which makes absolutely NO difference to us – she’s precious. We like her a whole lot, but guess what – he’s still married! She actually went back home to Omaha a couple of weeks ago, partially because he has taken no steps toward getting a divorce. We have no idea whether she’ll come back here to be with Steven. I’m certain his marriage is pretty much over, but neither of them has moved toward a divorce. He sees his children pretty regularly, which is a very good thing – for them and for him (the main reason he decided to come home). We’re trying to stay completely out of it and just roll with the punches. Believe me, he knows exactly how we feel about the situation, even though we’ve said very little.
I probably already sent each of you a message about Susan’s family working toward mission service in Gulu, Uganda (yup, that would be in deepest, darkest Africa!). They listed their house in May and have begun the deputation process (another word for fundraising). However, so far no bites on their house, and the fundraising is moving very slowly. As human parents/grandparents, we obviously have major misgivings about the whole thing. We just keep praying that God will open and close all the right doors in His perfect timing and according to His perfect plan. Don’t ask me – I’m just a human mom with human concerns and worries! Yikes!!!
Darrell & I and Sherry went last weekend (June 12-14) out to visit Susan & family. Audrey (second-born, age 17) graduated from an Associate of Science program that Friday evening. She graduated with honors (4.0 grade average!) even though she carried a double major. She plans to go to nursing school in the fall, and won’t be going with the family to Africa, should it come to pass by that time.
Then on Saturday afternoon we went to the annual ballet recital from the dance studio Susan’s family is affiliated with (I know, I know – you should never end a sentence with a preposition). Audrey danced her senior solo, which was so beautiful, and Madeline (age 14) danced several numbers in the program. Even Susan’s sweet hubby, Joe, did a tap dance number with a couple of other guys. It’s been so great for the family to be involved there at the dance studio. Susan has taught aerobics and Pilates classes there for the past several years to help with the cost of the children’s dance lessons. Hmmmmm… I wonder if they’d like to learn Pilates in Africa??? If I know my SuSu, she’ll be starting classes as soon as she arrives there.
Sandi continues to struggle with the pain and loss resulting from her unwanted ugly divorce. My heart breaks for her and for the kids – they are still so completely lost, devastated and heartbroken, and her ex loves to twist the knife at every opportunity. It’s so sad! Eighteen years is a long time to pour yourself so completely into something that ultimately collapses, and the love of your life becomes your worst enemy. Unfathomable!
Well, that’s about it from me for now. I actually enjoy keeping up with this blog thing, but I just haven’t been able to make myself sit down and do it until today. Would you please keep our entire family in your prayers.
Love to you all – thanks for your consistent support when I needed it most!
XOXO Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Ephesians 6:10-11, 13, 16, & 18 (TLB)
I want to remind you that your strength must come from the Lord’s mighty power within you. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand safe against all strategies and tricks of Satan.
So use every piece of God’s armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will still be standing up.
In every battle you will need faith as your shield to stop the fiery arrows aimed at you by Satan. And you will need the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit—which is the Word of God.
Pray all the time (without ceasing). Ask God for anything [that is] in line with the Holy Spirit’s wishes. Plead with Him, reminding Him of your needs, and keep praying earnestly for all Christians everywhere.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
And so, life goes on...
Hi all!
Well, here we are - tomorrow marks the one-month anniversary of my brother's March 19 passing. Since that day, two things have happened which have totally changed my perspective. First, just three days after Dick's death, there was that awful plane crash where 14 people perished, one a young mom who was 5 mos. pregnant along with 7 young children (all the precious babies of the two sisters aboard the plane).
Ironically, Amy and Erin Jacobson and their three children, who were among the crash victims, lived right there in Angwin, CA just around the corner from Dick & Nancy. And Amy, the young Jacobson mom of three of the children, was a part-time dental assistant at the Angwin dental office where I was a patient while in Californa. There were almost 2,000 in attendance at their memorial service (a week after my brother's service) held in the big Adventist church at the college just down the hill. My heart continues to ache for the famlies affected by this unthinkable tragedy. They lost two entire branches of their family tree, and some long-time close friends, all in one fell swoop - I can't imagine the crushing grief!
The second thing that has cleared up my thinking and changed my perspective is the sense of relief and total peace that has come over me now that it's over. I now see why having a funeral or memorial service is so important for families after a loss of this type. I didn't realize it, but I held my grief tightly up against my chest until Dick's memorial service when it all came gushing out. It's difficult to explain, but after it was over, I felt differently. I began to feel relief and such a profound and growing sense of peace. The only way I can explain it is that I now know that I no longer have to worry about my brother or sit by and see him suffer, watching him painfully deteriorate a little every day. As my eldest daughter described it when I told her of his death, she said, "Oh mom, isn't it great - Uncle Dick is 'up there' partying with Jesus and Grandpa (my daddy, who died in 1997)!"
With that, my entire way of thinking about it changed. Now, and more and more as time goes by, I feel an increasing sense of peace. I can honestly say that although I miss Dick so, so much, (and will as long as I'm alive and breathing) I can now think of him without sorrow or concern - this, for the first time since he was diagnosed two years ago.
Something else I've learned is that grief is hard work - utterly exhausting. My mom & sis have expressed experiencing the same feelings of exhaustion. I'm just now starting to feel my energy beginning to return. Now I'm busying myself trying to figure out what "normal" is, and working to get back to it, whatever it is. First of all, I need to move back into my house. Keep in mind, I was at my brother's for 6 months. We had a LOT of our "stuff" down there. I'm working a little at a time to get things unloaded from the boxes and suitcases and put it all back where it belongs at home.
We finally took Darrell to the cardiologist this past Wednesday, and it was good news. The doctor agreed that we probably don't need to be concerned about having Darrell undergo an angioplasty, at least not right now. His symptoms were very worrysome, but he has felt totally great since coming home from his hospital visit. His blood pressure numbers are really good, and his cholesterol is low with good numbers in all the right places. The doc wants to see him again in a year, or if his symptoms recur, whichever comes first. The doctor asked if there was anything especially stressful going on in our lives recently. Nah! Boy, oh boy - don't EVEN get me started!!
I loved what Rick Warren (author of "The Purpose Driven Life") said about dealing with his wife's cancer. After months of prayer for her healing, he had to come to terms with the fact that it probably wasn't in God's plan to spare her earthly life. He says that normal life is comprised of a series of crises. But the real crisis occurs when you don't know where to take the stress from those crises, or you don't know Whom you should trust with your breaking heart. Rick's message, too, retooled my thinking. We always think, "If I can just get through this..." or "When this is over..." with the idea that after the storm passes, things will settle down and life will smooth out for us. It ain't gonna happen, friends! This IS life on this old dirt ball. But the Good News is that it's only temporary. We're just passing through. I'm longing for that blessed day when we can all join the party there in heaven with Jesus and our beloved friends and family - my sweet brother, and my precious daddy, and you with all of your loved ones. What a celebration that will be - Don't miss it!!
Love you all!
MY TEXT FOR TODAY (The chorus from a favorite Christian song: "Till the Storm Passes Over"):
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky...
Hear my cry, help me stand in the hollow of His hand.
Hold me close till the storm passes by.
Well, here we are - tomorrow marks the one-month anniversary of my brother's March 19 passing. Since that day, two things have happened which have totally changed my perspective. First, just three days after Dick's death, there was that awful plane crash where 14 people perished, one a young mom who was 5 mos. pregnant along with 7 young children (all the precious babies of the two sisters aboard the plane).
Ironically, Amy and Erin Jacobson and their three children, who were among the crash victims, lived right there in Angwin, CA just around the corner from Dick & Nancy. And Amy, the young Jacobson mom of three of the children, was a part-time dental assistant at the Angwin dental office where I was a patient while in Californa. There were almost 2,000 in attendance at their memorial service (a week after my brother's service) held in the big Adventist church at the college just down the hill. My heart continues to ache for the famlies affected by this unthinkable tragedy. They lost two entire branches of their family tree, and some long-time close friends, all in one fell swoop - I can't imagine the crushing grief!
The second thing that has cleared up my thinking and changed my perspective is the sense of relief and total peace that has come over me now that it's over. I now see why having a funeral or memorial service is so important for families after a loss of this type. I didn't realize it, but I held my grief tightly up against my chest until Dick's memorial service when it all came gushing out. It's difficult to explain, but after it was over, I felt differently. I began to feel relief and such a profound and growing sense of peace. The only way I can explain it is that I now know that I no longer have to worry about my brother or sit by and see him suffer, watching him painfully deteriorate a little every day. As my eldest daughter described it when I told her of his death, she said, "Oh mom, isn't it great - Uncle Dick is 'up there' partying with Jesus and Grandpa (my daddy, who died in 1997)!"
With that, my entire way of thinking about it changed. Now, and more and more as time goes by, I feel an increasing sense of peace. I can honestly say that although I miss Dick so, so much, (and will as long as I'm alive and breathing) I can now think of him without sorrow or concern - this, for the first time since he was diagnosed two years ago.
Something else I've learned is that grief is hard work - utterly exhausting. My mom & sis have expressed experiencing the same feelings of exhaustion. I'm just now starting to feel my energy beginning to return. Now I'm busying myself trying to figure out what "normal" is, and working to get back to it, whatever it is. First of all, I need to move back into my house. Keep in mind, I was at my brother's for 6 months. We had a LOT of our "stuff" down there. I'm working a little at a time to get things unloaded from the boxes and suitcases and put it all back where it belongs at home.
We finally took Darrell to the cardiologist this past Wednesday, and it was good news. The doctor agreed that we probably don't need to be concerned about having Darrell undergo an angioplasty, at least not right now. His symptoms were very worrysome, but he has felt totally great since coming home from his hospital visit. His blood pressure numbers are really good, and his cholesterol is low with good numbers in all the right places. The doc wants to see him again in a year, or if his symptoms recur, whichever comes first. The doctor asked if there was anything especially stressful going on in our lives recently. Nah! Boy, oh boy - don't EVEN get me started!!
I loved what Rick Warren (author of "The Purpose Driven Life") said about dealing with his wife's cancer. After months of prayer for her healing, he had to come to terms with the fact that it probably wasn't in God's plan to spare her earthly life. He says that normal life is comprised of a series of crises. But the real crisis occurs when you don't know where to take the stress from those crises, or you don't know Whom you should trust with your breaking heart. Rick's message, too, retooled my thinking. We always think, "If I can just get through this..." or "When this is over..." with the idea that after the storm passes, things will settle down and life will smooth out for us. It ain't gonna happen, friends! This IS life on this old dirt ball. But the Good News is that it's only temporary. We're just passing through. I'm longing for that blessed day when we can all join the party there in heaven with Jesus and our beloved friends and family - my sweet brother, and my precious daddy, and you with all of your loved ones. What a celebration that will be - Don't miss it!!
Love you all!
MY TEXT FOR TODAY (The chorus from a favorite Christian song: "Till the Storm Passes Over"):
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky...
Hear my cry, help me stand in the hollow of His hand.
Hold me close till the storm passes by.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Last August Dick asked me to write his life sketch, which I did two days before his passing:
Richard Warren Hoyt was born on May 28, 1947 in Sunnyside, WA, the second of three children born from the 1941 marriage of Gwen Chambers and Warren Hoyt. Dick’s sister Joanne is five years older than he, and his sister Sherry is two years younger.
Dick, or “Dickie Boogie,” as he was called by close family members, got off to a less-than-ideal start in life. Soon after he was born, he began to have serious problems with his digestive system. As an infant, it seemed nothing he swallowed would agree with him. Our frantic parents consulted doctors who tried everything from mother’s milk, evaporated milk and goat’s milk, to soy formula, each without success.
At the tender age of nine weeks, Dick – then a very sick baby – was hospitalized in Yakima, WA. He was immediately pumped full of fluids to rehydrate him and provide him with some much-needed nutrition, just in the nick of time to spare his young life. At nine weeks his weight was barely above his original birth weight. While in the hospital, Doctors discovered Dick had a birth defect known as pyloric stenosis. In laymen’s terms, this is a blockage between his stomach and small intestine, allowing little or nothing to pass from his stomach to digestive system. His tiny body was getting only minimal nourishment and hydration, barely enough to sustain his life. The problem was immediately corrected with surgery and Dick’s health began to improve.
During his childhood, Dick’s family moved several times between the Yakima Valley in Washington State and Grants Pass, Oregon. Dick attended elementary school in Grants Pass until during the fifth grade his parents relocated to La Sierra, California. He completed elementary school at La Sierra Elementary and graduated from La Sierra Academy in 1966.
After his academy graduation, Dick attended La Sierra College where he met and fell in love with the lovely Irma Faye Nielsen. Dick and Irma were married in July of 1968 in Placerville, CA. They produced two beautiful children, Joylin born in 1970, followed by Kenny who joined the family in 1974.
Ten years later Dick had moved his family from Thousand Oaks, California to Eureka. In 1984 they were dealt an unexpected blow when Irma was diagnosed with both multiple sclerosis and malignant melanoma. Within five years after being diagnosed with cancer, Irma passed to her rest at their home in Napa just three months before her 41st birthday. But as cancer often does, it had robbed their family of a wife and mom many months prior to the day she took her final breath.
As time went by following the loss of his beloved wife, Dick’s heart began to yearn for the comfort and companionship of a partner who would share his life. One Saturday evening at a get-together for Christian singles in Napa, a beautiful redhead across the room caught Dick’s eye. This lovely single mom of three was Nancy Jean Johnson, formerly Nancy Howlett, who had grown up [of all places] in La Sierra. Dick and Nancy were married on December 16, 1989 and moved their blended family into a home in St. Helena, CA. Dick welcomed the role of step-dad to Nancy’s three children, and truly regarded Mindy, Michelle and Tristin as “his kids.” He dearly loved each of them and thought of them as his own. In 1994 Dick and Nancy moved their family into the former home of EvaBelle Winning located on Eastern Avenue in Angwin, where Dick lived out the remaining days of his life.
Dick’s love for cars began very early in his life. At age three, though he was still insistent on having a bottle for naps and bedtime, he begged Mom and Dad for a car with “piddles.” He called it a “Jeep Car,” one that he could pedal. Mom repeatedly told Dick that since only babies drink from a bottle, he would have to wait for his Jeep Car till he was a big boy who could do without his bottle.
Then one day it happened. Dick tossed his bottle out of the crib and it broke. Mom told him that was it – he had broken the bottle and there were no more to be had. Rather than fussing or being upset at the thought of giving up his beloved “Bock-a,” as he called it, his response was: “Good, now I can have a Jeep Car!” And have it, he did.
That was just the beginning of Dick’s fascination with cars, especially those of the Mopar variety. At one point, there were more than 20 vehicles lined up on his property, mostly Mopar, of course. This was much to the chagrin of his neighbors, who didn’t necessarily share the enthusiasm for his car collection. Eventually, a tall fence and a big beautiful shop provided the privacy needed to house (or should we say, hide) his prized collection of cars. To name just a few, he restored a beautiful red 1963 Plymouth Sport Fury. He also had a gorgeous 1950 DeSoto coupe, and a 1928 Model-A RatRod that he put together with his own two hands, powered by a ferocious Chrysler Hemi engine. They were his passion, his pride and joy!
One day in late April of 2007 Dick began to experience some concerning symptoms. He had numbness on the right side of his face, along with other symptoms often associated with suffering a stroke. Emergency Room tests revealed a “mass” in Dick’s brain just above his left ear, a tumor which was surgically removed on May 7, 2007. At the time, surgeons reported that they were successful in removing approximately 90% of the tumor. Two weeks later the pathology reports identified the tumor as a Glioblastoma Multiforme Grade IV. GBM, as it is called in the medical community, is the most aggressive form of brain cancer. The doctors further revealed that the disease is almost always fatal, and estimated his life expectancy to be somewhere between six and 24 months.
After diagnosis, Dick graciously endured the discomfort of radiation treatments and some 17 long months of bi-weekly infusions of various mixtures of chemo medications, which caused nausea and extreme fatigue. However, the treatments seemed to keep the monster at bay, at least for a time. Through all of this, Dick’s spirit and courage were astounding. He almost never complained. He maintained his sense of humor, and would often say, “Well, it is, what it is. You simply have to play the cards you’re dealt.”
In January of this year Dick’s health began to visibly deteriorate, quickly reaching a point where his body could no longer tolerate the toxic effects of the chemo treatments. After his diagnosis in May of 2007 just prior to his 60th birthday, he fought courageously for almost two years.
Dick loved life and many things in his life. He loved his work as a welding fabricator. He adored his family – his wife and kids. He doted on his grandchildren, Sean and Annika. He loved tinkering with cars and building things – fences, gates, dune buggies, trailers and the like. Dick loved history; and he loved to read. He loved to watch football on TV and enjoyed watching “Law and Order,” and “Survivor,” or ancient “Perry Mason” shows from the 1950’s. He would howl with laughter at the antics of Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson in his favorite episodes of “The Closer.”
Dick was a Mexican food fanatic. Family members often sympathized that poor Nancy was never able to dine out anywhere but in a Mexican restaurant. Dick always said he could survive almost anywhere, as long as the town had a good Mexican restaurant, a Barnes & Noble, and a gourmet coffee shop.
Growing up in a home where making music or listening to music was the primary form of entertainment, Dick always loved music – Big Band 40’s music. And he loved to sing or whistle along with his favorite CD’s. He had an excellent ear and could harmonize with almost anything – a chair squeak, a train whistle – anything. But as he grew older, his true love was Gospel music. Every Friday night and most of the day on Sabbaths Dick and Nancy enjoyed worshipping with their favorite Gaither Vocal Band and Signature Sound gospel music videos. They attended several live Gaither concerts together (one just three days after his brain surgery in May 2007).
Dick had a wonderful sense of humor, but he was an extremely practical man. He hated waste, he disliked horseplay and nonsense. He readily spoke his mind, and hated dishonesty or anything that seemed unjust or unfair. He hated paper plates! He hated being cold – he would sit on the couch, wrapped in his favorite blanket and wearing his Sopwith Camel fur-lined leather helmet. He didn’t like unnecessary noises. He couldn’t tolerate ticking clocks when he was trying to sleep. And he never wanted to hear about anything that was depressing or negative in any way, or anything that even closely resembled gossip – He just didn’t want to hear it. He liked to keep things simple, honest and uncomplicated.
During the final months of his illness, Dick developed an increased appreciation for life’s small wonders. He would marvel over the breathtaking beauty of a rose, or the juicy tomatoes from his garden; a butterfly, or the hummingbirds at the feeder. Then there was the walnut that Dick found sprouted in a bag hidden in a dark corner of his garage. Profoundly touched by the little sprout’s tenacity and will to live, Dick rescued the infant tree and named it Earl. Last summer Earl was permanently planted with much pomp and ceremony in a sunny spot in Dick & Nancy’s back yard.
Dick loved to visit the neighbor’s chickens, and often worried whether they might be in need of water or food. He and his sisters named the chicks, thoughtfully assigning a name that seemed appropriate to the personality or appearance of each little hen. While he was able, Dick would go with his sisters every day to take table scraps to “The Girls,” as he called them, and he’d sit for a time where he could watch them pick and scratch, and listen to them coo and cluck, or squabble over a crust of bread or a discarded leaf of lettuce. His favorite chicks, Maude, Tallulah, Ellen, EvaBelle, Rocky, and Connie have surely missed Dick’s daily visits.
Most notable of all is that Dick loved Jesus. He regarded having a terminal illness as something that simply brought him “one step closer to heaven.” We who love him so dearly and will remember him always are eagerly awaiting the day when we can one day be together again with him in heaven – What a day that will be!
Dick passed to his rest on March 19, 2009. He was preceded in death by his dad, Warren Hoyt, in 1997, and leaves a void in the lives of his beloved wife, Nancy; his children, Joylin and her husband Rob and their children, Sean and Annika of Napa; Kenny and his wife Arlene of Burlingame, CA; Mindy of Mt. View, CA; and Michelle and Tristin, both of Napa. Also surviving are his mother, Gwen Hoyt, of Hillsboro, OR; his two sisters – Joanne Ault of Castle Rock, WA, and Sherry Britz of Hillsboro. He will also be profoundly missed by his three beloved kitty cats, Olivia, Mopar and Fritzie, not to mention a little walnut tree named Earl.
See you in the morning, Dick!
MY TEXT FOR TODAY (Also used at Dick's service yesterday): Revelation 21:1-5 (NIV)
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be his people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."
Richard Warren Hoyt was born on May 28, 1947 in Sunnyside, WA, the second of three children born from the 1941 marriage of Gwen Chambers and Warren Hoyt. Dick’s sister Joanne is five years older than he, and his sister Sherry is two years younger.
Dick, or “Dickie Boogie,” as he was called by close family members, got off to a less-than-ideal start in life. Soon after he was born, he began to have serious problems with his digestive system. As an infant, it seemed nothing he swallowed would agree with him. Our frantic parents consulted doctors who tried everything from mother’s milk, evaporated milk and goat’s milk, to soy formula, each without success.
At the tender age of nine weeks, Dick – then a very sick baby – was hospitalized in Yakima, WA. He was immediately pumped full of fluids to rehydrate him and provide him with some much-needed nutrition, just in the nick of time to spare his young life. At nine weeks his weight was barely above his original birth weight. While in the hospital, Doctors discovered Dick had a birth defect known as pyloric stenosis. In laymen’s terms, this is a blockage between his stomach and small intestine, allowing little or nothing to pass from his stomach to digestive system. His tiny body was getting only minimal nourishment and hydration, barely enough to sustain his life. The problem was immediately corrected with surgery and Dick’s health began to improve.
During his childhood, Dick’s family moved several times between the Yakima Valley in Washington State and Grants Pass, Oregon. Dick attended elementary school in Grants Pass until during the fifth grade his parents relocated to La Sierra, California. He completed elementary school at La Sierra Elementary and graduated from La Sierra Academy in 1966.
After his academy graduation, Dick attended La Sierra College where he met and fell in love with the lovely Irma Faye Nielsen. Dick and Irma were married in July of 1968 in Placerville, CA. They produced two beautiful children, Joylin born in 1970, followed by Kenny who joined the family in 1974.
Ten years later Dick had moved his family from Thousand Oaks, California to Eureka. In 1984 they were dealt an unexpected blow when Irma was diagnosed with both multiple sclerosis and malignant melanoma. Within five years after being diagnosed with cancer, Irma passed to her rest at their home in Napa just three months before her 41st birthday. But as cancer often does, it had robbed their family of a wife and mom many months prior to the day she took her final breath.
As time went by following the loss of his beloved wife, Dick’s heart began to yearn for the comfort and companionship of a partner who would share his life. One Saturday evening at a get-together for Christian singles in Napa, a beautiful redhead across the room caught Dick’s eye. This lovely single mom of three was Nancy Jean Johnson, formerly Nancy Howlett, who had grown up [of all places] in La Sierra. Dick and Nancy were married on December 16, 1989 and moved their blended family into a home in St. Helena, CA. Dick welcomed the role of step-dad to Nancy’s three children, and truly regarded Mindy, Michelle and Tristin as “his kids.” He dearly loved each of them and thought of them as his own. In 1994 Dick and Nancy moved their family into the former home of EvaBelle Winning located on Eastern Avenue in Angwin, where Dick lived out the remaining days of his life.
Dick’s love for cars began very early in his life. At age three, though he was still insistent on having a bottle for naps and bedtime, he begged Mom and Dad for a car with “piddles.” He called it a “Jeep Car,” one that he could pedal. Mom repeatedly told Dick that since only babies drink from a bottle, he would have to wait for his Jeep Car till he was a big boy who could do without his bottle.
Then one day it happened. Dick tossed his bottle out of the crib and it broke. Mom told him that was it – he had broken the bottle and there were no more to be had. Rather than fussing or being upset at the thought of giving up his beloved “Bock-a,” as he called it, his response was: “Good, now I can have a Jeep Car!” And have it, he did.
That was just the beginning of Dick’s fascination with cars, especially those of the Mopar variety. At one point, there were more than 20 vehicles lined up on his property, mostly Mopar, of course. This was much to the chagrin of his neighbors, who didn’t necessarily share the enthusiasm for his car collection. Eventually, a tall fence and a big beautiful shop provided the privacy needed to house (or should we say, hide) his prized collection of cars. To name just a few, he restored a beautiful red 1963 Plymouth Sport Fury. He also had a gorgeous 1950 DeSoto coupe, and a 1928 Model-A RatRod that he put together with his own two hands, powered by a ferocious Chrysler Hemi engine. They were his passion, his pride and joy!
One day in late April of 2007 Dick began to experience some concerning symptoms. He had numbness on the right side of his face, along with other symptoms often associated with suffering a stroke. Emergency Room tests revealed a “mass” in Dick’s brain just above his left ear, a tumor which was surgically removed on May 7, 2007. At the time, surgeons reported that they were successful in removing approximately 90% of the tumor. Two weeks later the pathology reports identified the tumor as a Glioblastoma Multiforme Grade IV. GBM, as it is called in the medical community, is the most aggressive form of brain cancer. The doctors further revealed that the disease is almost always fatal, and estimated his life expectancy to be somewhere between six and 24 months.
After diagnosis, Dick graciously endured the discomfort of radiation treatments and some 17 long months of bi-weekly infusions of various mixtures of chemo medications, which caused nausea and extreme fatigue. However, the treatments seemed to keep the monster at bay, at least for a time. Through all of this, Dick’s spirit and courage were astounding. He almost never complained. He maintained his sense of humor, and would often say, “Well, it is, what it is. You simply have to play the cards you’re dealt.”
In January of this year Dick’s health began to visibly deteriorate, quickly reaching a point where his body could no longer tolerate the toxic effects of the chemo treatments. After his diagnosis in May of 2007 just prior to his 60th birthday, he fought courageously for almost two years.
Dick loved life and many things in his life. He loved his work as a welding fabricator. He adored his family – his wife and kids. He doted on his grandchildren, Sean and Annika. He loved tinkering with cars and building things – fences, gates, dune buggies, trailers and the like. Dick loved history; and he loved to read. He loved to watch football on TV and enjoyed watching “Law and Order,” and “Survivor,” or ancient “Perry Mason” shows from the 1950’s. He would howl with laughter at the antics of Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson in his favorite episodes of “The Closer.”
Dick was a Mexican food fanatic. Family members often sympathized that poor Nancy was never able to dine out anywhere but in a Mexican restaurant. Dick always said he could survive almost anywhere, as long as the town had a good Mexican restaurant, a Barnes & Noble, and a gourmet coffee shop.
Growing up in a home where making music or listening to music was the primary form of entertainment, Dick always loved music – Big Band 40’s music. And he loved to sing or whistle along with his favorite CD’s. He had an excellent ear and could harmonize with almost anything – a chair squeak, a train whistle – anything. But as he grew older, his true love was Gospel music. Every Friday night and most of the day on Sabbaths Dick and Nancy enjoyed worshipping with their favorite Gaither Vocal Band and Signature Sound gospel music videos. They attended several live Gaither concerts together (one just three days after his brain surgery in May 2007).
Dick had a wonderful sense of humor, but he was an extremely practical man. He hated waste, he disliked horseplay and nonsense. He readily spoke his mind, and hated dishonesty or anything that seemed unjust or unfair. He hated paper plates! He hated being cold – he would sit on the couch, wrapped in his favorite blanket and wearing his Sopwith Camel fur-lined leather helmet. He didn’t like unnecessary noises. He couldn’t tolerate ticking clocks when he was trying to sleep. And he never wanted to hear about anything that was depressing or negative in any way, or anything that even closely resembled gossip – He just didn’t want to hear it. He liked to keep things simple, honest and uncomplicated.
During the final months of his illness, Dick developed an increased appreciation for life’s small wonders. He would marvel over the breathtaking beauty of a rose, or the juicy tomatoes from his garden; a butterfly, or the hummingbirds at the feeder. Then there was the walnut that Dick found sprouted in a bag hidden in a dark corner of his garage. Profoundly touched by the little sprout’s tenacity and will to live, Dick rescued the infant tree and named it Earl. Last summer Earl was permanently planted with much pomp and ceremony in a sunny spot in Dick & Nancy’s back yard.
Dick loved to visit the neighbor’s chickens, and often worried whether they might be in need of water or food. He and his sisters named the chicks, thoughtfully assigning a name that seemed appropriate to the personality or appearance of each little hen. While he was able, Dick would go with his sisters every day to take table scraps to “The Girls,” as he called them, and he’d sit for a time where he could watch them pick and scratch, and listen to them coo and cluck, or squabble over a crust of bread or a discarded leaf of lettuce. His favorite chicks, Maude, Tallulah, Ellen, EvaBelle, Rocky, and Connie have surely missed Dick’s daily visits.
Most notable of all is that Dick loved Jesus. He regarded having a terminal illness as something that simply brought him “one step closer to heaven.” We who love him so dearly and will remember him always are eagerly awaiting the day when we can one day be together again with him in heaven – What a day that will be!
Dick passed to his rest on March 19, 2009. He was preceded in death by his dad, Warren Hoyt, in 1997, and leaves a void in the lives of his beloved wife, Nancy; his children, Joylin and her husband Rob and their children, Sean and Annika of Napa; Kenny and his wife Arlene of Burlingame, CA; Mindy of Mt. View, CA; and Michelle and Tristin, both of Napa. Also surviving are his mother, Gwen Hoyt, of Hillsboro, OR; his two sisters – Joanne Ault of Castle Rock, WA, and Sherry Britz of Hillsboro. He will also be profoundly missed by his three beloved kitty cats, Olivia, Mopar and Fritzie, not to mention a little walnut tree named Earl.
See you in the morning, Dick!
MY TEXT FOR TODAY (Also used at Dick's service yesterday): Revelation 21:1-5 (NIV)
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be his people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."
Saturday, March 14, 2009
How do we play the final quarter of the game?
So... Here I sit in my warm cozy home, with my tummy full of good food and, in spite of my many undeserved blessings, I've never been more uncomfortable in my life. At this moment my darling brother is literally dying as I sit here at my computer. It looks as though his life is counting down to mere days, possibly even hours. I don't know whether to scream or cry or what, so I just sit and stare into space. It's so totally weird and scary to think of him not being there. He's been there almost as long as I can remember (I was 5 when he was born). I took that for granted most of my life - not any more!
Fortunately so far, far Dick has suffered very little pain in connection with his brain cancer. However, today's report was that Dick awoke at 2 a.m. last night complaining extreme pain in his head. Nancy gave him pain medication and they went back to sleep. My mom and sis called mid morning to check on things and Dick was especially bright and alert. They were able to have an actual conversation with him and were so pleased he was doing so well. But when I heard that news, I said to my husband that I hope this isn't the "rally" just before the end. This happens so many times in cases of this type.
Early this afternoon Dick again expressed that he was in excrutiating pain, so Nancy summoned the hospice nurse who administered morphine to quiet the pain. The nurse told Nancy that he probably only has a few days left.
Totally surreal! This is the time we've dreaded for nearly two years, and even spent much of that time in complete denial, pretending it could not possibly actually happen. In a way it's sad and horribly frightening, but in another way it's almost a relief to know that he may not have to suffer much longer. This is so hard and so awful!
Please pray for strength for us who love him so dearly, and for God's perfect will in his life. Also, please pray for my beloved friend, Sonna, and her precious Daddy who, too, is nearing the end of his earthly life.
I love and need you all.
Joanne
Fortunately so far, far Dick has suffered very little pain in connection with his brain cancer. However, today's report was that Dick awoke at 2 a.m. last night complaining extreme pain in his head. Nancy gave him pain medication and they went back to sleep. My mom and sis called mid morning to check on things and Dick was especially bright and alert. They were able to have an actual conversation with him and were so pleased he was doing so well. But when I heard that news, I said to my husband that I hope this isn't the "rally" just before the end. This happens so many times in cases of this type.
Early this afternoon Dick again expressed that he was in excrutiating pain, so Nancy summoned the hospice nurse who administered morphine to quiet the pain. The nurse told Nancy that he probably only has a few days left.
Totally surreal! This is the time we've dreaded for nearly two years, and even spent much of that time in complete denial, pretending it could not possibly actually happen. In a way it's sad and horribly frightening, but in another way it's almost a relief to know that he may not have to suffer much longer. This is so hard and so awful!
Please pray for strength for us who love him so dearly, and for God's perfect will in his life. Also, please pray for my beloved friend, Sonna, and her precious Daddy who, too, is nearing the end of his earthly life.
I love and need you all.
Joanne
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o, out there…
Yes, I’m still alive and kicking, in spite of the many weeks of silence. I’ve been experiencing a little period of feeling totally overwhelmed, maybe even disoriented, like I’m clinging to a tiny chunk of bark in a spinning whirlpool. I think I’m finally beginning to get my feet to touch solid ground once again.
My sis and I flew home on February 6, planning to remain at home until after Spring Break. We were scheduled to fly back to California on March 31, but within a few days after we arrived home, Dick & Nancy called to let us know that they feel we have reached a point in Dick’s illness where they wanted it to be just the two of them for the remaining time Dick may have left on this old dirt ball. At that same time, they invited Mom to head home, as well. We totally understood what they were asking and why they wanted it to be that way. In fact, I think I had secretly anticipated that we would eventually reach that point.
Since we left Dick’s, his cancer has progressed surprisingly fast. Keep in mind we’ve barely been gone a month. At first he began having increased difficulty walking and needed help making it from the couch or his bed to another part of the house (e.g. bathroom, bedroom, etc.). Next he became unable to feed or bathe himself. At that point Hospice was brought into the picture, at first coming twice a week, and now pretty much on a daily basis. At that same time they brought in a hospital bed which has been set up in their living room. He spent his days in the hospital bed so that he could rest, watch TV and yet be part of daily household activities (only as an observer, but at least he wasn’t stuck in the bedroom).
As of last week, Nancy can no longer maneuver Dick into his wheelchair (or whatever conveyance) to move him into the bathroom or to their bedroom at night to sleep in his own bed with her. So he began using a bedside commode (and I doubt he can even sit up to do that any longer, as of this writing), and now spends his time in the hospital bed. Nancy has to sleep with one ear tuned to hear him in case he should need help during the night. Needing help is highly probable since he can’t even turn himself or move in the bed at all. The sad thing is that his mental capabilities are pretty much totally intact, so now he has the dubious pleasure of helplessly lying there watching himself slip away an inch at a time. In the words of one of my dearest friends (a two-time cancer survivor who also lost both parents to the disease) who loudly proclaims, “Cancer sucks!” She couldn’t be more right about that! I pray every day that he won’t wake up to face another day of suffering. Enough, already!
Life sometimes has a way of throwing one monkey wrench after another into the “machinery.” As things have begun winding down toward the worst of conclusions for my precious brother, here comes another critical situation to be dealt with. This past Thursday Darrell awoke from an afternoon nap and told me he felt as if someone were standing on his chest. He wouldn’t let me call 9-1-1, but I did ultimately convince him to let me take him to ER.
Of course, by the time we reached the hospital, his symptoms had subsided. Actually, I was pretty thankful for that! That was just after 4:30 p.m. Five hours later, after undergoing a myriad of tests, poking, prodding, and a buzzillion questions, the ER docs decided to admit Darrell to the hospital's cardiac unit. We were both certain they would just keep an eye on him overnight and send him home the next day, but that didn’t happen. He ended up staying four nights and parts of 5 days. One issue to consider was that Darrell had all of his upper teeth extracted on February 9, and they were concerned that possibly some residual infection had settled into his heart valves. However, tests eventually ruled that out as the cause of the problem.
We were finally able to bring him home last evening (Monday), but only because of the fact that we were already scheduled to see his regular doctor in Portland this Wednesday about another (hopefully unrelated) issue. They did a cardiac stress test on Monday morning before he was discharged and found a slight (10%) blockage in the artery that brings blood to the heart – not immediately life-threatening, but definitely not the best news!
The hospital’s cardiologists recommended that Darrell have an angioplasty, which is where they insert a balloon into the artery to stretch it out and decrease the amount of restriction. So we will take all the test results to Darrell’s primary care doctor tomorrow to see what he recommends. My guess is that there’s an angioplasty in our not-too-distant future.
The original reason for tomorrow’s appointment is to discuss the results of a cranial (head) MRI that Darrell had on March 6 after experiencing some rather scary memory problems over the past few weeks. His mom died of Alzheimer’s, making this problem as concerning to both of us as the cardiac issues are. When it rains, it definitely pours! I’m praying that there’s a less-than-frightening reason for all of this and we can just continue rolling along as always.
Now, I know full well that there are those of you out there whose circumstances have similarly tried to derail your lives – feeling somewhat like Satan has selected you as his favorite target, concentrating his evil arrows specifically in your direction. (Do you sometimes feel like you have a giant bull’s eye painted on your chest?) A couple of you immediately come to mind in that regard.
One reason I have let my blog go for so long is that I feel like there’s not much to say, except to whine all about “poor me” and all of my troubles. But, if there’s any way you can stand to bear with me, unfortunately this is how I process problems and cope with the sticky wickets of life. It has to be SOOOOO boring – you are darling and patient friends to stick with me, in spite of the incessant whining. God bless you for that!
Keep praying!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR THE DAY: Psalm 143 (TLB)
Hear my prayer, O Lord; answer my plea, because you are faithful to your promises. Don’t bring me to trial! For as compared to you, no one is perfect. My enemies chased and caught me. They have knocked me to the ground. They force me to live in the darkness like those in the grave. I am losing all hope; I am paralyzed with fear.
I remember the glorious miracles you did in days of long ago. I reach out for you. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain. Come quickly, Lord, and answer me, for my depression deepens; don’t turn away from me or I shall die. Let me see your kindness to me in the morning, for I am trusting you. Show me where to walk, for my prayer is sincere. Save me from my enemies, O Lord, I run to you to hide me. Help me to do your will, for you are my God. Lead me in good paths, for your Spirit is good.
Lord, saving me will bring glory to your name. Bring me out of all this trouble because you are true to your promises. And because you are loving and kind to me, cut off all my enemies and destroy those who are trying to harm me; for I am your servant.
Yes, I’m still alive and kicking, in spite of the many weeks of silence. I’ve been experiencing a little period of feeling totally overwhelmed, maybe even disoriented, like I’m clinging to a tiny chunk of bark in a spinning whirlpool. I think I’m finally beginning to get my feet to touch solid ground once again.
My sis and I flew home on February 6, planning to remain at home until after Spring Break. We were scheduled to fly back to California on March 31, but within a few days after we arrived home, Dick & Nancy called to let us know that they feel we have reached a point in Dick’s illness where they wanted it to be just the two of them for the remaining time Dick may have left on this old dirt ball. At that same time, they invited Mom to head home, as well. We totally understood what they were asking and why they wanted it to be that way. In fact, I think I had secretly anticipated that we would eventually reach that point.
Since we left Dick’s, his cancer has progressed surprisingly fast. Keep in mind we’ve barely been gone a month. At first he began having increased difficulty walking and needed help making it from the couch or his bed to another part of the house (e.g. bathroom, bedroom, etc.). Next he became unable to feed or bathe himself. At that point Hospice was brought into the picture, at first coming twice a week, and now pretty much on a daily basis. At that same time they brought in a hospital bed which has been set up in their living room. He spent his days in the hospital bed so that he could rest, watch TV and yet be part of daily household activities (only as an observer, but at least he wasn’t stuck in the bedroom).
As of last week, Nancy can no longer maneuver Dick into his wheelchair (or whatever conveyance) to move him into the bathroom or to their bedroom at night to sleep in his own bed with her. So he began using a bedside commode (and I doubt he can even sit up to do that any longer, as of this writing), and now spends his time in the hospital bed. Nancy has to sleep with one ear tuned to hear him in case he should need help during the night. Needing help is highly probable since he can’t even turn himself or move in the bed at all. The sad thing is that his mental capabilities are pretty much totally intact, so now he has the dubious pleasure of helplessly lying there watching himself slip away an inch at a time. In the words of one of my dearest friends (a two-time cancer survivor who also lost both parents to the disease) who loudly proclaims, “Cancer sucks!” She couldn’t be more right about that! I pray every day that he won’t wake up to face another day of suffering. Enough, already!
Life sometimes has a way of throwing one monkey wrench after another into the “machinery.” As things have begun winding down toward the worst of conclusions for my precious brother, here comes another critical situation to be dealt with. This past Thursday Darrell awoke from an afternoon nap and told me he felt as if someone were standing on his chest. He wouldn’t let me call 9-1-1, but I did ultimately convince him to let me take him to ER.
Of course, by the time we reached the hospital, his symptoms had subsided. Actually, I was pretty thankful for that! That was just after 4:30 p.m. Five hours later, after undergoing a myriad of tests, poking, prodding, and a buzzillion questions, the ER docs decided to admit Darrell to the hospital's cardiac unit. We were both certain they would just keep an eye on him overnight and send him home the next day, but that didn’t happen. He ended up staying four nights and parts of 5 days. One issue to consider was that Darrell had all of his upper teeth extracted on February 9, and they were concerned that possibly some residual infection had settled into his heart valves. However, tests eventually ruled that out as the cause of the problem.
We were finally able to bring him home last evening (Monday), but only because of the fact that we were already scheduled to see his regular doctor in Portland this Wednesday about another (hopefully unrelated) issue. They did a cardiac stress test on Monday morning before he was discharged and found a slight (10%) blockage in the artery that brings blood to the heart – not immediately life-threatening, but definitely not the best news!
The hospital’s cardiologists recommended that Darrell have an angioplasty, which is where they insert a balloon into the artery to stretch it out and decrease the amount of restriction. So we will take all the test results to Darrell’s primary care doctor tomorrow to see what he recommends. My guess is that there’s an angioplasty in our not-too-distant future.
The original reason for tomorrow’s appointment is to discuss the results of a cranial (head) MRI that Darrell had on March 6 after experiencing some rather scary memory problems over the past few weeks. His mom died of Alzheimer’s, making this problem as concerning to both of us as the cardiac issues are. When it rains, it definitely pours! I’m praying that there’s a less-than-frightening reason for all of this and we can just continue rolling along as always.
Now, I know full well that there are those of you out there whose circumstances have similarly tried to derail your lives – feeling somewhat like Satan has selected you as his favorite target, concentrating his evil arrows specifically in your direction. (Do you sometimes feel like you have a giant bull’s eye painted on your chest?) A couple of you immediately come to mind in that regard.
One reason I have let my blog go for so long is that I feel like there’s not much to say, except to whine all about “poor me” and all of my troubles. But, if there’s any way you can stand to bear with me, unfortunately this is how I process problems and cope with the sticky wickets of life. It has to be SOOOOO boring – you are darling and patient friends to stick with me, in spite of the incessant whining. God bless you for that!
Keep praying!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR THE DAY: Psalm 143 (TLB)
Hear my prayer, O Lord; answer my plea, because you are faithful to your promises. Don’t bring me to trial! For as compared to you, no one is perfect. My enemies chased and caught me. They have knocked me to the ground. They force me to live in the darkness like those in the grave. I am losing all hope; I am paralyzed with fear.
I remember the glorious miracles you did in days of long ago. I reach out for you. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain. Come quickly, Lord, and answer me, for my depression deepens; don’t turn away from me or I shall die. Let me see your kindness to me in the morning, for I am trusting you. Show me where to walk, for my prayer is sincere. Save me from my enemies, O Lord, I run to you to hide me. Help me to do your will, for you are my God. Lead me in good paths, for your Spirit is good.
Lord, saving me will bring glory to your name. Bring me out of all this trouble because you are true to your promises. And because you are loving and kind to me, cut off all my enemies and destroy those who are trying to harm me; for I am your servant.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Here I am again... finally!
First let me make a major correction. The chapter from Rick Warren's book that I was raving about (and it truly is a fantastic writing) is Chapter 14, not 18. There's nothing wrong with 18, but you lose the entire point of what I was getting at, and I'm sure y'all were scratching your heads, if you went to the book to take a peek and read Chapter 18. Sorry! That's what I get for depending on my most fallible memory.
Where to start... It's been at least two weeks since I've updated my blog, and there's been a lot going on - some of it trivial, and some fairly significant. For one thing, my brother hasn't been doing well. He's been discouraged and many days seems to have pretty much given up. He had an MRI on the 21st, but we don't have the results yet. That will come in a doctor's appointment this coming Thursday. I can tell that Dick feels he is deteriorating more and more and expects the news to be bad. He is unable to do much of anything but get back and forth from couch to bed and to the bathroom and back, and has to use a walker for safe transport even on those abbreviated trips. His speech is becoming more difficult at times, and he took quite a fall this week. Fortunately, he wasn't hurt in the fall, but it scared the kapok out of all of us!
The other thing is Dick and Nancy are urging my sis and I to take some extended time for a visit home. We are scheduled to fly home this coming Friday, Feb. 6, returning on the 17th. But they are suggesting that we stay at home till after Spring Break. This would mean we would return sometime after March 31. We have decided to go ahead with that plan, and are in the process of rearranging our flights and airport transportation to make it happen that way. Both of us have considerable anxiety about leaving for that length of time - we're afraid of what we'll find when we come back. And there's also the possibility that things could reach the point where we might have to come back sooner than March 31. I'm not sure they realize fully all that we are doing behind the scenes to keep things running smoothly here, but time will tell. Either way, it will be awfully nice to spend some extra time at home.
My daughter, Sandi, was here with us last weekend. She flew down to pay her Uncle Dick a visit, and was able to spend some one-on-one time with one of her favorite cousins (Joylin, my brother's eldest) whom she hadn't seen in a very long time. We had a wonderful time while she was here, even though the weather was totally uncooperative - it rained the entire time she was here. It had been beautiful and sunny up until the day before she arrived, and the sun returned the day she left. Bummer! But she came for more than the weather, so it's all good.
One more bit of news: After 14 months of prayers to this end, my son called early this past week to say he wants to come home. He says he misses his family (wife, kids, extended family) and just wants to come home. So, in the very worst time of the year for road travel, he left Omaha, NE yesterday morning and arrived at a friend's in Montana sometime before noon today. He told us that he was in a deserted mountain pass this morning at around 3 a.m. in the middle of nowhere when his rented vehicle stopped just as though he had turned off the key. He tinkered with it for an hour or so, with no success, and wrapped himself in a blanket (in sub-zero weather) to wait till daylight to decide what to do next.
He was sitting there alone in the dark, getting pretty cold, when suddenly the car's headlights came on (he had not realized he had left the headlights or the key in the "on" position, since everything died when the car quit). He sat up, turned the key, and the car started on the first try. He made it safe and sound without further incident several hours down the road to his friend's home in Montana. I call that a miracle, since his I was waking up every 30 minutes to pray that his journey would be safe and he wouldn't freeze to death out there in a snowbank somewhere. God is so faithful!
Now that it's actually happening, we have mixed feelings about our son coming home. Of course, we're thrilled that he wants to come home, and consider it a miraculous answer to months of prayer. But we need to find that fine line between unconditional loving acceptance and enabling further poor choices and unnacceptable behavior. He cannot just drop out of the sky back into the picture and pick up where he left off, expecting everyone to just smile and say nothing about what's happened. His wife and kids have been SO hurt by his selfish choices, as have his Dad & I. We so much want to be the loving parents of a returning prodigal, but also want to help him be accountable for the pain and anguish his bad choices have caused us, his wife, and his precious babies during the past 14 months. I have read and re-read the Luke 15 story of the Prodigal Son. Please pray for all of us as we seek wisdom and guidance in dealing with this situation. I told our pastor yesterday, I want to hug him (my son, not the pastor) till he squeals, and then turn him over my knee and give him a good lickin' (again... my son, not the pastor)!
So, we will spend this coming week sorting things out in preparation to head home - what to take, what to leave here for our return in a couple of months. We also have a dilemma regarding our transportation to the airport on Friday. Our sweetie of a cousin, Sam, always takes care of that for us. We drive Sherry's car to his house in Sacramento and he shuttles us to the airport. We leave her car at his house and work the plan in reverse for our return trip. Unfortunately, Sam will be in Oregon all of next week (something more than a little ironic about that, huh?), so we have to figure out a Plan B. So far, nothing has jumped out at us - not sure what we'll do, but it will all work out.
Thanks for hanging with me through all the drama. Can you believe it - Sometimes it almost feels like a bad soap opera!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Luke 15:20
So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long distance away, his father saw him coming, and he was filled with loving pity and ran and embraced him and kissed him.
Lord, help me to be that loving parent, waiting with open arms at the end of the driveway! And give me the wisdom to know when to speak, what to say, and when to keep silent. Amen.
Where to start... It's been at least two weeks since I've updated my blog, and there's been a lot going on - some of it trivial, and some fairly significant. For one thing, my brother hasn't been doing well. He's been discouraged and many days seems to have pretty much given up. He had an MRI on the 21st, but we don't have the results yet. That will come in a doctor's appointment this coming Thursday. I can tell that Dick feels he is deteriorating more and more and expects the news to be bad. He is unable to do much of anything but get back and forth from couch to bed and to the bathroom and back, and has to use a walker for safe transport even on those abbreviated trips. His speech is becoming more difficult at times, and he took quite a fall this week. Fortunately, he wasn't hurt in the fall, but it scared the kapok out of all of us!
The other thing is Dick and Nancy are urging my sis and I to take some extended time for a visit home. We are scheduled to fly home this coming Friday, Feb. 6, returning on the 17th. But they are suggesting that we stay at home till after Spring Break. This would mean we would return sometime after March 31. We have decided to go ahead with that plan, and are in the process of rearranging our flights and airport transportation to make it happen that way. Both of us have considerable anxiety about leaving for that length of time - we're afraid of what we'll find when we come back. And there's also the possibility that things could reach the point where we might have to come back sooner than March 31. I'm not sure they realize fully all that we are doing behind the scenes to keep things running smoothly here, but time will tell. Either way, it will be awfully nice to spend some extra time at home.
My daughter, Sandi, was here with us last weekend. She flew down to pay her Uncle Dick a visit, and was able to spend some one-on-one time with one of her favorite cousins (Joylin, my brother's eldest) whom she hadn't seen in a very long time. We had a wonderful time while she was here, even though the weather was totally uncooperative - it rained the entire time she was here. It had been beautiful and sunny up until the day before she arrived, and the sun returned the day she left. Bummer! But she came for more than the weather, so it's all good.
One more bit of news: After 14 months of prayers to this end, my son called early this past week to say he wants to come home. He says he misses his family (wife, kids, extended family) and just wants to come home. So, in the very worst time of the year for road travel, he left Omaha, NE yesterday morning and arrived at a friend's in Montana sometime before noon today. He told us that he was in a deserted mountain pass this morning at around 3 a.m. in the middle of nowhere when his rented vehicle stopped just as though he had turned off the key. He tinkered with it for an hour or so, with no success, and wrapped himself in a blanket (in sub-zero weather) to wait till daylight to decide what to do next.
He was sitting there alone in the dark, getting pretty cold, when suddenly the car's headlights came on (he had not realized he had left the headlights or the key in the "on" position, since everything died when the car quit). He sat up, turned the key, and the car started on the first try. He made it safe and sound without further incident several hours down the road to his friend's home in Montana. I call that a miracle, since his I was waking up every 30 minutes to pray that his journey would be safe and he wouldn't freeze to death out there in a snowbank somewhere. God is so faithful!
Now that it's actually happening, we have mixed feelings about our son coming home. Of course, we're thrilled that he wants to come home, and consider it a miraculous answer to months of prayer. But we need to find that fine line between unconditional loving acceptance and enabling further poor choices and unnacceptable behavior. He cannot just drop out of the sky back into the picture and pick up where he left off, expecting everyone to just smile and say nothing about what's happened. His wife and kids have been SO hurt by his selfish choices, as have his Dad & I. We so much want to be the loving parents of a returning prodigal, but also want to help him be accountable for the pain and anguish his bad choices have caused us, his wife, and his precious babies during the past 14 months. I have read and re-read the Luke 15 story of the Prodigal Son. Please pray for all of us as we seek wisdom and guidance in dealing with this situation. I told our pastor yesterday, I want to hug him (my son, not the pastor) till he squeals, and then turn him over my knee and give him a good lickin' (again... my son, not the pastor)!
So, we will spend this coming week sorting things out in preparation to head home - what to take, what to leave here for our return in a couple of months. We also have a dilemma regarding our transportation to the airport on Friday. Our sweetie of a cousin, Sam, always takes care of that for us. We drive Sherry's car to his house in Sacramento and he shuttles us to the airport. We leave her car at his house and work the plan in reverse for our return trip. Unfortunately, Sam will be in Oregon all of next week (something more than a little ironic about that, huh?), so we have to figure out a Plan B. So far, nothing has jumped out at us - not sure what we'll do, but it will all work out.
Thanks for hanging with me through all the drama. Can you believe it - Sometimes it almost feels like a bad soap opera!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Luke 15:20
So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long distance away, his father saw him coming, and he was filled with loving pity and ran and embraced him and kissed him.
Lord, help me to be that loving parent, waiting with open arms at the end of the driveway! And give me the wisdom to know when to speak, what to say, and when to keep silent. Amen.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wow! January is more than half gone already - unbelievable! It seems like we just get used to writing and saying "January," and it's time to switch to February. And wasn't it just Thanksgiving last week!!?? Time definitely flies.
We have again settled into the routine of being back in California. I always feel a bit disoriented when we first get home, and again when we first return to my brother's. I kinda wander around in a daze for a couple of days, not sure where I am or what I'm supposed to do. I can't find things in my own kitchen. The garbage can and the silverware aren't in the "right" places. I keep looking for things in the places where they are kept at the other house, wherever I'm not. And grocery shopping is a nightmare. I remember we're low on this or that and toss one in the grocery cart, then when I go to the cupboard (at either place), there are two of that item sitting there on the shelf, and the thing I REALLY needed to buy is either gone or in short supply. It gets very confusing, even with a list.
My sis-in-law went to a kindergarten teachers conference this weekend. She left Saturday morning and came back early this evening (Sunday). We were more than a little nervous having her gone overnight. I hardly slept at all - like that first night you have your newborn home from the hospital, or when one of your kids is really sick. I had one ear tuned to hear Dick if he got up in the night and fell or something. First thing this morning I looked over at my sister in her bed and said, "Well, we made it!" I had prayed all night that Dick would remain safe in his bed through the night. Daylight was such a relief!
Monday will be a relaxing day. There's no school because of MLK's birthday, and Nancy will be able to stay home, which will be really nice for Dick. We got the laundry chores all done today so that tomorrow can just be a veg-out day. The weather has been beautiful - some days in the 70's, so maybe we can spend some time outdoors. Darrell tells me it was 26 degrees outside our kitchen window this morning. That's too cold! Wish he could be here to enjoy the sunshine with me.
I have been reading my Rick Warren book (Purpose Driven Life). If you don't have a copy, you have to get one. It a fabulous, practical and encouraging book. If you have a copy, promise me you'll read Chapter 18. It talks about those times when you're feeling alone, your prayers don't go any higher than the ceiling, and you feel God is either off somewhere taking a nap or has forgotten about you altogether. You're just not feelin' it! When one of my most precious friends is feeling this way, she offers to give God her Social Security number to make sure He remembers who she is (Hey, God - it's me, Diane!). Of course, she isn't serious, but we almost feel that way sometimes. I know I do!
Sometimes I lie in my bed at night in the darkness and plead with God to heal my brother, and/or to give me, my sis and Mom, the strength to deal with everything that's happening, now and in the future. And for me it's more than my brother's failing health, although that is huge. My daughter and her kids are struggling with anger, emotional and financial issues after finalizing a nasty divorce (one she never wanted from the get-go), and my son is who-knows-where - he has left his wife and two precious kids. We aren't even certain where he is. He says Iowa, or Nebraska (depending on who you're talking to). Can you imagine a mother's anguish not knowing where her precious boy is! And I feel badly about leaving my husband at home all alone. He is so precious and supportive, but gets terribly lonely between home visits. I miss him and fight feelings of guilt for neglecting him.
One of my favorite Christian songs is called, "Learning to Lean on Jesus," and believe me I am being taught that lesson, more and more EVERY day! Since there is not one single thing I can do to fix any of these things that are so profoundly broken in my life and in my family, there is only One place to turn. At one point while I was home at Christmas, I had somewhat of a meltdown, crying and carrying on. I was bawling and told my husband, "Everywhere I turn there is something hugely broken and totally out of [my] control!" Learning to lean! Why is it so hard? Why do we feel we have to do SOMETHING to try to fix things or make them better? I guess I get that from my sweet Daddy. He was a "get-in-the-car-go-and-do-SOMETHING" kinda guy. I can still remember him in difficult situations, pacing the floor and brainstorming ideas, desperately trying to come up with "something" he could do to help or fix the situation. I guess that's just our natural human inclination.
So... It's probably a good thing that there's nothing I can do in any of these situations. All I can do is love the people involved, pray a lot, and rely on the One who is "able to save to the uttermost." And all the while, I'm learning to lean!
I love you all - couldn't make it without all of you in my life!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Isaiah 49:14-16 (TLB)
Yet they way, "My Lord deserted us; he has forgotten us."
Never! Can a mother forget her little child and not have love for her own son? Yet even if that should be, I will not forget you. See, I have tattooed your name upon my palm..."
He must have a very big palm, because I know your name is tattooed there with mine! XOXO
We have again settled into the routine of being back in California. I always feel a bit disoriented when we first get home, and again when we first return to my brother's. I kinda wander around in a daze for a couple of days, not sure where I am or what I'm supposed to do. I can't find things in my own kitchen. The garbage can and the silverware aren't in the "right" places. I keep looking for things in the places where they are kept at the other house, wherever I'm not. And grocery shopping is a nightmare. I remember we're low on this or that and toss one in the grocery cart, then when I go to the cupboard (at either place), there are two of that item sitting there on the shelf, and the thing I REALLY needed to buy is either gone or in short supply. It gets very confusing, even with a list.
My sis-in-law went to a kindergarten teachers conference this weekend. She left Saturday morning and came back early this evening (Sunday). We were more than a little nervous having her gone overnight. I hardly slept at all - like that first night you have your newborn home from the hospital, or when one of your kids is really sick. I had one ear tuned to hear Dick if he got up in the night and fell or something. First thing this morning I looked over at my sister in her bed and said, "Well, we made it!" I had prayed all night that Dick would remain safe in his bed through the night. Daylight was such a relief!
Monday will be a relaxing day. There's no school because of MLK's birthday, and Nancy will be able to stay home, which will be really nice for Dick. We got the laundry chores all done today so that tomorrow can just be a veg-out day. The weather has been beautiful - some days in the 70's, so maybe we can spend some time outdoors. Darrell tells me it was 26 degrees outside our kitchen window this morning. That's too cold! Wish he could be here to enjoy the sunshine with me.
I have been reading my Rick Warren book (Purpose Driven Life). If you don't have a copy, you have to get one. It a fabulous, practical and encouraging book. If you have a copy, promise me you'll read Chapter 18. It talks about those times when you're feeling alone, your prayers don't go any higher than the ceiling, and you feel God is either off somewhere taking a nap or has forgotten about you altogether. You're just not feelin' it! When one of my most precious friends is feeling this way, she offers to give God her Social Security number to make sure He remembers who she is (Hey, God - it's me, Diane!). Of course, she isn't serious, but we almost feel that way sometimes. I know I do!
Sometimes I lie in my bed at night in the darkness and plead with God to heal my brother, and/or to give me, my sis and Mom, the strength to deal with everything that's happening, now and in the future. And for me it's more than my brother's failing health, although that is huge. My daughter and her kids are struggling with anger, emotional and financial issues after finalizing a nasty divorce (one she never wanted from the get-go), and my son is who-knows-where - he has left his wife and two precious kids. We aren't even certain where he is. He says Iowa, or Nebraska (depending on who you're talking to). Can you imagine a mother's anguish not knowing where her precious boy is! And I feel badly about leaving my husband at home all alone. He is so precious and supportive, but gets terribly lonely between home visits. I miss him and fight feelings of guilt for neglecting him.
One of my favorite Christian songs is called, "Learning to Lean on Jesus," and believe me I am being taught that lesson, more and more EVERY day! Since there is not one single thing I can do to fix any of these things that are so profoundly broken in my life and in my family, there is only One place to turn. At one point while I was home at Christmas, I had somewhat of a meltdown, crying and carrying on. I was bawling and told my husband, "Everywhere I turn there is something hugely broken and totally out of [my] control!" Learning to lean! Why is it so hard? Why do we feel we have to do SOMETHING to try to fix things or make them better? I guess I get that from my sweet Daddy. He was a "get-in-the-car-go-and-do-SOMETHING" kinda guy. I can still remember him in difficult situations, pacing the floor and brainstorming ideas, desperately trying to come up with "something" he could do to help or fix the situation. I guess that's just our natural human inclination.
So... It's probably a good thing that there's nothing I can do in any of these situations. All I can do is love the people involved, pray a lot, and rely on the One who is "able to save to the uttermost." And all the while, I'm learning to lean!
I love you all - couldn't make it without all of you in my life!
XOXO
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR TODAY: Isaiah 49:14-16 (TLB)
Yet they way, "My Lord deserted us; he has forgotten us."
Never! Can a mother forget her little child and not have love for her own son? Yet even if that should be, I will not forget you. See, I have tattooed your name upon my palm..."
He must have a very big palm, because I know your name is tattooed there with mine! XOXO
Friday, January 9, 2009
Of Sunnier California and Answered Prayers
Hi all!
Well, here we are back in California. We dug ourselves out of the snowdrifts and flew back down on Monday - got here mid-afternoon, and it was really cold and foggy. In fact, the temperature was about the same (low 40's) as what we had left behind in Portland. When I left my home, we still had enough snow in our yard to make it challenging to get out of our driveway for our trip to the airport on Monday morning. Darrell had to rock the pickup back and forth a couple of times to get enough momentum to start moving down the driveway. It worried us for a brief moment, but we made it out and down the hill to the freeway.
My time at home this time was far from normal. We were snowed in most of the time I was there. But in a way, it was fun and relaxing. Darrell said it was a little like being on vacation in our own home. I felt it was perfectly OK to stay in my nightie till, oh, 3:00 in the afternoon, or so. I mean, why shower and get dressed - couldn't go anywhere. I mean, not anywhere - not even to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. (Yes, our faithful mail deliverer brought our mail every day throughout the arctic blast, but we couldn't make it to the mailbox!)
We enjoyed days of guilt-free vegging out. We read and worshipped, napped and watched TV - whatever we felt like doing. The snow was beautiful, but after about a week it got to be somewhat of a drag. (We lost power several times and we were getting dangerously low on "necessities" again). One close friend said on his FaceBook page that he hopes it NEVER snows again. Dream on, friend! It could conceivably snow again yet this winter. We're just getting started!
Last Friday my brother was scheduled to have his double-whammy chemo treatment, but his lab test the prior Thursday revealed that his blood platelets were too low to support having the treatment. Then early Saturday morning (2 a.m.-ish) he awoke with severe leg pain and they discovered that his right leg was swollen to 5-1/2 inches larger than his left leg, we assume from the blood clots. They had done surgery just after Christmas (Dec. 29) to insert a little filter screen in his leg vein to catch the clots to keep them from floating to somewhere scary, even possibly fatal (e.g., brain, heart, lungs). I have no idea how all this plays into the swollen leg, but I have to assume there's a connection.
We have been praying all week that the platelet count would increase to at least the required minimum (100K) so that he could have the treatment today. We've been feeding him all kinds of nutritious, healthy foods and making him drink lots of fluids, and all manner of other tortuous indignities, having absolutely no idea what makes more platelets. But we reasoned that it couldn't hurt.
So, after lying on the couch all week with his leg elevated, the swelling is much improved, and yesterday (Thursday) he went for another blood test to check the platelet count. We held our breath waiting for the results. The nice thing is that Kaiser's labs post test results on their website within a very short time (sometimes within 30 minutes). We prayed and signed on to the website, and there it was - "Platelets: 132K." Mom and I cheered for joy and Sherry burst into tears. So he was allowed to have the chemo meds infused this morning. He was really beginning to lose ground without the scheduled treatment, and swears he feels a little stronger already now that he's had the medications. Praise God! You are SO good, and we are so, so thankful.
I always feel somewhat disoriented going back and forth from home to here and back home again. The first couple of days I feel a little at loose ends, and then settle back into the routine of the locale. This week has been a blur. We've been troubled about Dick's swollen leg and low platelet count and the resulting lack of medications. He's been a bit out of sorts dealing with it all, which is totally understandable, but adds to the stress level.
Speaking of FaceBook (remember I mentioned it back a couple of paragraphs), I am probably one of the few grandmothers on FaceBook. It has been a lot of fun connecting and reconnecting with family and old friends (I mean, long-time friends, not just the old ones). My new friend, Leah, is there, which is fun. If you haven't signed up, you might want to give it a try. It's a combined hoot and a real blessing, all rolled into one. It offers some real opportunities to share your heart and to just be a little silly sometimes.
Well, the household is shutting down for the evening, so I will ring off this epistle for now. Thanks for your faithfulness, your love and unending prayers for me and my precious family.
I love you all - so much!
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR THE DAY: Psalm 142 (TLB)
How I plead with God, how I implore his mercy, pouring out my troubles before him. For I am overwhelmed and desperate, and you alone know which way I ought to turn to miss the traps my enemies have set for me (look, there's one--just over there to the right!). No one gives me a passing thought. No one will help me, no one cares a bit what happens to me.
Then I prayed to Jehovah, "Lord," I pled, "you are my only place of refuge. Only you can keep me safe. Hear my cry, for I am very low. Rescue me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me. Bring me out of prison, so that I can thank you. The Godly will rejoice with me for all your help."
Well, here we are back in California. We dug ourselves out of the snowdrifts and flew back down on Monday - got here mid-afternoon, and it was really cold and foggy. In fact, the temperature was about the same (low 40's) as what we had left behind in Portland. When I left my home, we still had enough snow in our yard to make it challenging to get out of our driveway for our trip to the airport on Monday morning. Darrell had to rock the pickup back and forth a couple of times to get enough momentum to start moving down the driveway. It worried us for a brief moment, but we made it out and down the hill to the freeway.
My time at home this time was far from normal. We were snowed in most of the time I was there. But in a way, it was fun and relaxing. Darrell said it was a little like being on vacation in our own home. I felt it was perfectly OK to stay in my nightie till, oh, 3:00 in the afternoon, or so. I mean, why shower and get dressed - couldn't go anywhere. I mean, not anywhere - not even to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. (Yes, our faithful mail deliverer brought our mail every day throughout the arctic blast, but we couldn't make it to the mailbox!)
We enjoyed days of guilt-free vegging out. We read and worshipped, napped and watched TV - whatever we felt like doing. The snow was beautiful, but after about a week it got to be somewhat of a drag. (We lost power several times and we were getting dangerously low on "necessities" again). One close friend said on his FaceBook page that he hopes it NEVER snows again. Dream on, friend! It could conceivably snow again yet this winter. We're just getting started!
Last Friday my brother was scheduled to have his double-whammy chemo treatment, but his lab test the prior Thursday revealed that his blood platelets were too low to support having the treatment. Then early Saturday morning (2 a.m.-ish) he awoke with severe leg pain and they discovered that his right leg was swollen to 5-1/2 inches larger than his left leg, we assume from the blood clots. They had done surgery just after Christmas (Dec. 29) to insert a little filter screen in his leg vein to catch the clots to keep them from floating to somewhere scary, even possibly fatal (e.g., brain, heart, lungs). I have no idea how all this plays into the swollen leg, but I have to assume there's a connection.
We have been praying all week that the platelet count would increase to at least the required minimum (100K) so that he could have the treatment today. We've been feeding him all kinds of nutritious, healthy foods and making him drink lots of fluids, and all manner of other tortuous indignities, having absolutely no idea what makes more platelets. But we reasoned that it couldn't hurt.
So, after lying on the couch all week with his leg elevated, the swelling is much improved, and yesterday (Thursday) he went for another blood test to check the platelet count. We held our breath waiting for the results. The nice thing is that Kaiser's labs post test results on their website within a very short time (sometimes within 30 minutes). We prayed and signed on to the website, and there it was - "Platelets: 132K." Mom and I cheered for joy and Sherry burst into tears. So he was allowed to have the chemo meds infused this morning. He was really beginning to lose ground without the scheduled treatment, and swears he feels a little stronger already now that he's had the medications. Praise God! You are SO good, and we are so, so thankful.
I always feel somewhat disoriented going back and forth from home to here and back home again. The first couple of days I feel a little at loose ends, and then settle back into the routine of the locale. This week has been a blur. We've been troubled about Dick's swollen leg and low platelet count and the resulting lack of medications. He's been a bit out of sorts dealing with it all, which is totally understandable, but adds to the stress level.
Speaking of FaceBook (remember I mentioned it back a couple of paragraphs), I am probably one of the few grandmothers on FaceBook. It has been a lot of fun connecting and reconnecting with family and old friends (I mean, long-time friends, not just the old ones). My new friend, Leah, is there, which is fun. If you haven't signed up, you might want to give it a try. It's a combined hoot and a real blessing, all rolled into one. It offers some real opportunities to share your heart and to just be a little silly sometimes.
Well, the household is shutting down for the evening, so I will ring off this epistle for now. Thanks for your faithfulness, your love and unending prayers for me and my precious family.
I love you all - so much!
Joanne
MY TEXT FOR THE DAY: Psalm 142 (TLB)
How I plead with God, how I implore his mercy, pouring out my troubles before him. For I am overwhelmed and desperate, and you alone know which way I ought to turn to miss the traps my enemies have set for me (look, there's one--just over there to the right!). No one gives me a passing thought. No one will help me, no one cares a bit what happens to me.
Then I prayed to Jehovah, "Lord," I pled, "you are my only place of refuge. Only you can keep me safe. Hear my cry, for I am very low. Rescue me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me. Bring me out of prison, so that I can thank you. The Godly will rejoice with me for all your help."
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