Comedy or Tragedy-Part 2

I don't like waiting, but I had no other choice. I peeled potatoes, put chicken in the oven, and prayed. I was pretty sure Hilary would be ok, or surely she would have said something on the phone to her dad.

The phone rings again. Michael's voice sounds eerily strange, as if something has changed. "Well, it wasn't Hilary in the accident. It was Elisabeth. Apparently, Brian (her friend) got here before I did. He took her to the hospital....so you may want to go over there." He didn't have anymore information than that. I hung up the phone and immediately tried calling my mother-in-law.

"Hey, just checking to see if you were finished with your appointment or what was going on?" I tried to sound calm. She answered that she was already finished and driving back. What???? You are driving? Why would you answer the phone while driving? It's not wise at my age, but at 82 it most certainly is NOT a good idea to multitask when operating a motor vehicle. That isn't what I told her, but I quickly got off the phone. What-to-do, what-to-do.

I decided to phone Brian to see how Elisabeth was doing. I wanted to know that my mother-in-law had made it safely home before I ran out. But I didn't have Brian's number. My phone rings. It is Hilary. "Mom, what is going on? Brian just called me because he didn't have your number. He's on his way to the hospital to see Elisabeth." Things are not making sense to me.

"Hilary, I thought Brian was with Elisabeth."

"No, they took her by ambulance."

"Okay, give me Brian's phone number."

Sheesh! How did this get so complicated? I called Brian. He was at the hospital, but they wouldn't allow him back yet because they were checking her vitals. He said when he got to the scene of the accident, the paramedics had Elisabeth on a stretcher and were loading her into the ambulance. He said she was crying, but talking, so he thought she was ok but was in a lot of pain.

Alright, that did it. I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to see Elisabeth. I call Michael back. "Did you know Elisabeth went by ambulance? Was her car towed yet? Are you on your way to the hospital?"

It was then that Michael explained his situation. As he'd neared the accident, he was looking for Hilary's car. But he didn't see it. Instead He saw a crunched blue car. It was then that he realized it was Elisabeth's car. It dawned on him that it was Elisabeth who'd phoned him, not Hilary. Mistaken identity. While taking in the scope of the situation, he missed seeing the truck parked in the middle of the street up ahead. He swerved, but clipped the corner of the truck. The same truck that had hit Elisabeth. The same driver that had made a left turn, slamming into the side of Elisabeth's car as she went through the intersection. The truck that pushed her car into a pole, smashing in the back of it. Michael had to wait longer at the site of the accident so the police officer could write him a ticket. That cinched it for me. I couldn't take any more drama. I needed to know if Elisabeth was okay.

Since it was snowing and I had no idea how long I'd be at the hospital, I decided against taking my car. It does not do well on slick roads. The last thing I wanted to do was rush down the hospital and get into an accident. (My dad warned me of this sort of thing a long time ago, as he'd seen it happen too many times when he worked for the highway patrol-just the thing that Michael had just experienced.) I grabbed the keys for the suburban as it has 4-wheel drive. I was torn. I was concerned about my mother-in-law getting home safely, but felt I needed to get to the hospital. My decision was made for me when I tried to start the car. Nothing. The battery was completely dead. Guess I would be staying put for a little longer.

This is Elisabeth's beloved car before the accident:


This is her car after:

Comedy or Tragedy-Part 1

It was almost a comedy of errors, except the laughter was absent.

Yesterday the time had come for me to attack the accumulated dirt and dust that has settled so comfortably in my home recently. Michael had a 3-4 hour meeting. With him out of the house, I could run the vacuum to my heart's content without stopping because he needed to take a phone call. I got busy.

Seeing my ambition, my mother-in-law declared she would drive herself to her afternoon appointment. She hasn't driven in 6 weeks. I could tell by the look in her eyes, she was not to reckoned with. She insisted on driving back to her apartment first. I had to let her go. I watched out the window as she drove away. No time to fret; fast and furiously I forged ahead, facing the dirt demons.

My uninterrupted 3 hours of work was nearly complete. As if on cue, Michael walked in the door. We briefly discussed how comfortable we were with his mom driving. Tiny snowflakes had just begun to fly, but the roads were still dry. It was decided that we would trust her judgment, believing she would call if necessary.

The phone rang. She was just leaving the apartment when she realized it was snowing. She thought she could make it to the appointment. I offered to come get her, but she wanted to try. She assured me she would phone from the office if the roads looked bad when it was time to drive home. I figured I should go ahead and get dinner started in case I needed to pick her up later. The phone rings again.

I can't quite make out what Michael is saying, but before he hangs up he says, "I'll be there in a minute." Making his way through the kitchen he tells me Hilary's been in an accident. "What? Is she okay? Was she driving home? Where was she?" I have lots of questions, as I thought Hilary was staying after school for the basketball game. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. You stay here in case my mom needs you to pick her up." Out the door he went. I dialed Hilary's cell phone. As it was ringing, Michael walked back in the door. He'd grabbed the wrong car keys. No answer. "Did she call the police this time?" I asked, assuming that was why Hilary wasn't taking my call. "Yes." He muttered something else that sounded like this being her 3rd accident and what will this do to our insurance. I'm guessing this is what he said, as I couldn't really make it out. But I'm praying even before he shuts the door.

Thunk Thursday

Thunk to me, for not getting a better photo. But it is very awkward taking a picture while in a nail salon, especially when the proprietor wants to know what you are doing. So instead, while his back is turned, I whip out my not-so-good-at-taking-pictures, old school phone. And this is what I get:

Marble/Hand Pain Designs...........$10-15.00

I don't know about you, but I'm not interested in painful hand designs. Are they drawings of marbles or do they use marbles to make them?

Finding Love In Unusual Places

Last week I shared my "Food Speaks Love" photo. Today my daughter, Christina, sent me this one:


If we open our minds and our hearts, reminders of love are all around us.
I was sifting through my jewelry box today and found a lovely white gold heart with purple stones in it. Michael gave it to me 2 years ago. I put it on, remembering how special I felt when I opened the box.

This afternoon, he noticed me wearing it. Gently, he took it in his hand, lifting it from against my skin. He peered at it closely. He too was reflecting on a tender moment. Still admiring its beauty he queried:

"Where'd you get this?"

What Day Is It?

As little kids do, when I was little, I believed the tallest person must be the oldest. In my family, it was mostly true too. This came to mind when I looked at this photo. (And if I remember, I think I'm wearing heels, as per usual.)

Now I have to show you the photo I cropped my mom, dad, and myself from:


See? I'm the youngest. (My brother isn't in this photo, he's truly the oldest since he is taller than dad.)

Hahahaha.

Ok, this post isn't about all of this nonsense. I pulled this picture because I wanted to wish my dad a very Happy Birthday. Happy 71st Dad!

Thank-you for being the wonderful, caring, praying dad that you are. Thank-you for the love & energy you give to mom, your kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. Allowing grandkids to live in your house takes a special kind of grandpa. And I know you and mom have not only invested time & money to your family, but you've invested yourselves.

For your birthday, I'm sending you a blessing; blessings of renewed vision & strength to continue in God's plan. From Psalm 71, since this is your 71st:

" O God, You have taught me from my youth;
And to this day I declare Your wondrous works.
Now also when I am old and grayheaded,
O God, do not forsake me,
Until I declare Your strength to this generation,
Your power to everyone who is to come." (Psalm 71:18-19)

And from Proverbs 14, since you were born on the 14th:

"In the fear of the LORD there is strong confidence,
And His children will have a place of refuge.
The fear of the LORD is a fountain of life,
To turn one away from the snares of death.

Happy Birthday Dad, and enjoy your dinner with the rest of the family.

I love you!

Food Speaks Love

Annoyed

Do you ever find yourself annoyed and yet in your heart you know you really have no right to be? But you are still extremely agitated?

That is how I am feeling at the present moment. And I shouldn't. But I am.

Maybe I am just tired. But there you go. Now I am making excuses for why I feel this way. Just stop already!

A week or so ago, I happened upon the 5 minutes for mom blog. More specifically, it was the 5 minutes for special needs. They were holding a giveaway for a program that works with the ITouch. It helps kids communicate with a mere touch of the screen. It speaks for them. Ethan can do this. He LOVES his mom's ITouch and can actually use it with some degree of accuracy.
His favorite thing to do is push buttons and touch things.

Only 7 people entered the giveaway. SEVEN. What are the odds? I knew I had this one. Except, I realized tonight I didn't. Someone else has won it.

Like I said, I'm very annoyed.

Thunk Thursday

Who wouldn't want this hanging on their living room wall?





Life's what?

Guess we know why it was on the clearance rack.

What's In A Smile?

What parent hasn't waited with great anticipation to see their baby's first smile? The delight is immeasurable. Thereafter countless hours are spent coaxing and sweet talking in an attempt to glimpse this tender expression. Each grimace or slight lip curl stirs eager hope. What is it about this tiny grin that elicits such joy?

A smile speaks from the heart.

Have you ever watched a nervous child on stage, scanning the audience for a familiar face? Before the wave or shout, you know when he finds it. His concerned look turns immediately into a radiant smile. His demeanor calms. All is right.

Lovers at an airport, embracing after an absence. The expressions is unmistakable.

Two people, formerly estranged, know right away if the door is open to reconciliation.

A father's genuine smile, as his daughter seems to light up his world.

Approval, acceptance, love, affection, excitement and more, communicated with simply a smile.

Is Silence Truly Golden?

As the television drones in the background, I try to imagine. My mother-in-law is a widow, sitting alone in an empty apartment. She's mentioned a few times how strangely quiet her home is. "It isn't as if he was noisy or busy, but it is still so quiet," she remarks. I stop by often, and it is deafeningly silent.

As I write, I am distracted by a loud commercial. I am used to quiet mornings, not loud chatter and noise. I have a hard time concentrating on what I want to say. And I realize that is the difference. When my mother-in-law, Elizabeth, would get out of bed in the mornings, Ed was already up. The lingering scent of toast & coffee let her know he was there, even before she saw him sitting in his recliner. But it was the sounds & voices, as he watched t.v. that was a constant source of familiarity-the comfort of knowing she wasn't alone.

I am annoyed at the noise resonating in the background, not comforted. Michael isn't usually awake at this hour. If he is, he is working-not watching television. If he was gone, would I still enjoy the silence in the morning? He doesn't drink coffee or eat breakfast, so I imagine that I could pretend he was curled up in bed, still asleep, as I went about my morning. At what point would being alone come settling in? When would the quiet no longer be soothing and instead become my enemy?

To break the silence, I would play music. The sound that soothes my soul. I would know that I am not alone. And I would sing along with the tune:

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!

How sweet to hold a newborn baby,
And feel the pride and joy he gives;
But greater still the calm assurance:
This child can face uncertain days because He Lives!

Chorus
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!

And then one day, I'll cross the river,
I'll fight life's final war with pain;
And then, as death gives way to vict'ry,
I'll see the lights of glory and I'll know He lives!

Joy Comes In The Morning

What a blessing when an insurmountable problem looks so much smaller in the morning.


Something delicious.




It's nutritous.




Beautiful instead of creepy




Sustenance instead of barreness

Personal Perspective

Everyone has difficult times. Our struggles can be overwhelming. Possibly, though, we are looking at our situation from a very small perspective. We can't see it as God sees it. Let me show you what I mean.

What are these giant spherical objects pressing so hard against me?



Teetoring on this enormous crevasse where I'm about to fall.



Lost on this dry, barren, moon.



I can't escape this yellow monster. I'm going to drown.

These are objects found in my home today, seen from a magnified perspective. Can you guess what they are? Stay tuned tomorrow for these giants to be revealed.

Monday Morning Musings

Why would a special education director not want what's best for a special needs child and instead, do everything in her power to limit his learning?

Who thinks it is a good idea for a 7 year old child to get on the bus at 7:40 a.m. to attend school from 8:00-11:30 a.m., then take a 30 minute bus ride to another school from noon-3:30 and arriving home around 4:30 p.m.? This would not be an easy transition for a typical 7 year old, why do this to a child who already struggles with disabilities? His mom had no problem driving him back and forth the 30 minutes to a single school. Providing a bus to mulitiple schools is not a better choice.

What does a parent do when threatened, via email (by same director's attorney), to be removed by police escort from school property?...for merely observing her child's classroom when it was previously ok'd by the principal? Apparently it is disruptive to sit in the back of the room and take notes on positive ways to manage her child's transition between the two schools and into this new class.

Trying To Find My Place In This World

I've been perusing food blogs and man, do I feel inadequate. I'm left standing here wanting to grab a bag of flaming hot cheetos and calling it lunch. But I'm also inspired to do more. I can't compare my cooking to that of others. It is futile. Instead, I must do what works for me and my family. Translated to mean, cooking gluten free or according to whatever special dietary needs arrive at my doorstep.

I doubt I'll ever be a world traveler, sampling exotic foods. I won't be going to fancy shmancy restaurants to entice my taste buds with enchanting new delicacies. It isn't happening. So I can't be expected to have a clue about such culinary delights. (Remember that when dining at my home.)

Instead, I will be as creative as I can, providing comforting food to meet nutritional needs-hopefully in a tasty fashion. But more important than the food, I cook for the soul. Food has a way of bringing family and friends together. Good conversation. Laughter, connections, provoking thoughts, curious questions. At the dinner table, we are filled and satisfied in so many ways.

Thunk Thursday

Posted on the door, outside a police interrogation room.

Parenting

I am not a mean mom. Never was. My goal in parenting is to help my children become responsible, successful, loving, respectful adults. In other words, all that God desires for them to be. I've heard people say children should come with a manual as they often have no idea how to be a parent. If done with honor, love, and integrity, I think a parent will get it right.

Some parents pride themselves on being a "mean mom or mean dad." To counteract the permissive parenting of the 80's and not wanting to resort to being a control freak, they have chosen to embrace a manipulation style of raising their children. They see it as a better way than the strict "do-it-or-else" disciplinarian. I think it is one step worse. Mean parents think they are clever, but their methods are cruel.

A friend of mine recently posted a technique she uses in parenting. Tired of reminding her children about forgotten chores, she came up with a solution. Her child heads off to school in the morning and doesn't empty the trash like he knows he's supposed to do. When said child returns home, he finds the contents of the forgotten trash can dumped upon his bed.

Some of you may be laughing right now, thinking this parent is brilliant & saying, "I'll bet the kid won't let that happen again." Is her goal to train up a child to become a responsible adult or is she merely wanting her children to comply to her own wishes and demands? Does she realize what this teaches her child?

She has just taught her child that when someone makes you mad, it is ok to retaliate. When someone doesn't comply with your wishes, it is ok to damage their property. But the loudest message issued is "I don't respect or value you." A parent who disrespects her own children and family members is training them to have little or no regard for others. Basically her actions tell the child he is not valued. Why else would his bed be full of garbage? This parent believes she has one a chore battle when in reality the child has lost his worth. He grows up "doing unto others, the way his parents did unto him," because he has no respect for himself or others.

This training perpetuates the prevalent thought in society: We want our own way regardless of how it affects another person. Instead of responsible adults, we have selfish, self-centered people who believe it is ok to trash others in order have things their own way. Sadly, these parents truly love their children and seem to have no idea why their children become out-of-control, especially as teenagers.

Back In The Saddle, (or attempting to get back)

I amaze myself. But not always in a good way. Has it really been 12 days since I've posted anything? And my recipe blog...1 month??? You'd think I wasn't eating or trying new foods or something. But if that was true, I'd be losing weight. I'm not, thank-you-very-much.

So what is happening here?

I think my brain went on vacation and failed to give me notice. Or maybe hibernating? Last night I attempted to jar it to attention by slamming it into the door jam, while walking in the dark. Ouch! Must have knocked it out of its slumber since I'm here posting today.

Now if I could just do the same with Ethan's school district, since they seem to have completely lost their heads...counting on you God!

Thunk Thursday

Today I deserve a thunk. I accidently deleted my Thunk Thursday Photo. It was a good one too. So instead of Thunk Thursday, today is Thumbs Up Thursday. My thumbs up goes to my dermatologist. This is the story:

When I scheduled Hilary's appointment, as per usual, the receptionist reminded me to come a few minutes early, "as Dr. Ken runs on time." Her appointment was for 11:45a.m. We arrived promptly at 11:38 a.m.

At 11:42, we were called back to the examining room and Dr. Ken walked in at 11:44. He spoke with Hilary for a few minutes and declared her skin as good and no need for anything further. He then turned to me.

"How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

"Well, actually I have this little spot that I need you to check...so I'll make an appointment."

"Do you want me to look at it now?" He didn't need to ask me twice. After looking it over, he asked if I wanted him to freeze it off or go ahead and biopsy it. This spot has been frozen twice, so I told him he could go ahead and biopsy. Within a minute he'd injected lidocaine to numb it, sliced a sliver of skin, cauterized it to minimize bleeding, applied a bandage and I was out the door.

He said he wasn't going to charge me for Hilary's visit since she didn't really need to be seen, but I'd need to stop at the checkout desk to pay my copay. I checked my watch. It was 11:55. A mere 10 minutes after Hilary's scheduled appointment. Why can't all doctors be this efficient?

As I made my payment, I remarked to the girl how much I appreciated being able to get in and out so quickly. She laughed as she printed up my superbill and said, "some people don't like it. They don't feel like they get their money's worth. So we have another doctor who is slower and doesn't run on schedule. It keeps everyone happy."

I think Dr. Ken is the best ever.

Marvelous Monday

Mondays used to be my least favorite day of the entire week. I despised getting up early and sending my kids off into the cold, cruel world. I wanted my children close & content, not controlled and confined in a classroom. But Mondays seem different now. They are marvelous.

Mondays are filled with hope and excitement of all that lies ahead for the new week. Adventure stands at my doorstep.

Today is Tuesday. I sit here wondering why I'm up before the sun? I don't think God intended for us to get up so early. If he had, he would have made the sun rise earlier. He didn't. Winter is for quiet, longer sleeping. He made long, dark hours so I could sleep.

Maybe He meant for me to go to bed earlier too. The sun does set at 5:00p.m.

New Years Resolutions

1. I'm not making any resolutions.
2. If I were to make resolutions they would be the usual:
a) lose weight
b) grow spiritually
c) run with the giants

I was surprised to hear numerous people eager to wish 2009 good-bye. The proverbial "Don't let the door hit you on the way out" was expressed over and over, but in less than gentle tones. Was it the economy? Hard times? Loss? Where is the hope so many had when President Obama and his cronies took over last January?

But then I remember the words in 2 Timothy 3:1-5:

Remember this! In the last days there will be many troubles, because people will love themselves, love money, brag, and be proud. They will say evil things against others and will not obey their parents or be thankful or be the kind of people God wants. They will not love others, will refuse to forgive, will gossip, and will not control themselves. They will be cruel, will hate what is good, will turn against their friends, and will do foolish things without thinking. They will be conceited, will love pleasure instead of God, and will act as if they serve God but will not have his power. Stay away from those people.

So where is the hope for 2010? To begin the New Year, I'm reading through Acts.

"In the last days,’ God says,
‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
Your young men will see visions,
and your old men will dream dreams.
In those days I will pour out my Spirit"
even on my servants—men and women alike—
and they will prophesy.