9/11 and Charlie Kirk

 Of all the days in the year since 2001 this single day is the worst.  I promised myself that I would remember what happened and I have religiously followed the programing each year.  Yes, I still cry, I still mourn the senseless deaths, and I remain amazed that at that time our country was united as one.  I am shocked that there are young people that have little knowledge about the events of that day.  I remember exactly I was doing and who I talked to and what was said.  I really believe that our country has taken hit after hit over the years.  I see so much anger politically and it scares me.  It is no secret that I did not like Biden and felt that he was the worse president since Jimmy Carter, but I never wanted him to die. On social media we see laughter, outright glee and inappropriate reactions to devastating events.  If you don't agree with the cause du Jour you are labeled racist, homophobic, misogynic, and transphobic.  We are currently in a situation in this country where the majority are allowing a few with cause to run us in circles due to fear of being labeled or canceled.  Charlie Kirk was one of my heroes. He went across the country and debated young people.  He was always respectful but honest.  He didn't bow down to the left leaning populace but encouraged them to speak their truth and debate with him.  He was brilliant and was able to talk to anyone about anything.  The one thing that I loved most was that his faith was always upfront.  He was not ashamed of Jesus and spoke honestly about his faith.  On a podcast he was asked if this (life) ended how would he want to be remembered.  His answer was he "wanted to be remembered for courage for my faith".   He spoke the truth; it was not popular.  Truth isn't always comfortable.  You can believe something, and it isn't necessarily truth.  The trans community really had come out in force on social media because they could not make him speak their truth.  When debating he was respectful but still maintained that science and truth will out.   You can believe whatever you want about yourself, but you can't force the rest of us to accept that about you.  Basically, what he stood by was, you do you booboo but I stand by the truth and by science.  We are so much less today without him.  We have lost the voice of a generation. I have no doubt that he is in Heaven having a joyous reunion with our Savior.  I had posted a video that talked about this individuals' feelings about why he was killed.  He used the word "they" and my FB friend wanted to know "who the hell is they".  My answer to him is "they" represents the collective group of people who cannot tolerate an opinion that varies from what they believe and instead of disagreeing respectively they spew hatred and stir the pot of violence.  That is why Charlie was killed.   We all need to take a page from Charlie's book and stand up for the truth.  The real truth not the truth that is based on fantasy.  We need to honor his memory and evaluate our faith and really look deeply into our hearts to see if that we died today where would we go. He would encourage that you each would ask Jesus to forgive your sins and come into your heart and change your life.  He would encourage you to read your bible and to share the love of Jesus to everyone.   Charlie you will be missed.   

 

There Are Always Two Sides to Any Situation: An ongoing letter to my son's children

 In any family there can be problems that may escalate to nearly insurmountable issues.  I am writing this in hopes that in later years, your dad or Aunt Becky will show this to you for you to understand that there is another side to the situation that you found yourself in the middle.  First of all, I want you to know that you are loved dearly by your dad.  I can only speak of his feelings because I have such limited contact with your mom.  He repeatedly tells me that you are the very best things in his life.  He is so very proud of your uniqueness and your spirit.  He was unorthodox in his parenting.  He refused to make you sit down and "clean your plates" at dinner.  He insisted you eat nutritious meals, but the time was up in the air.  He gave you permission to eat at whatever time you wanted, and it worked.  He didn't have "talks" situated around mealtimes but had one on one time where he would find out how your life was going.  I heard you tell your dad that you were glad that we didn't ask you questions about what was going on at mommy's house because you got tired of answering questions over there.  Quite frankly neither of us cared what went on with your mommy.  That was your other life.  The few days that we had you was for us.  Neither your father or I wanted what was 'Over there" to intrude on our few days.  The problem started after your dad sought counseling for recurrent nightmares that were similar and horrifying to him.  He had been hospitalized in a psych hospital for 3 days when his doctor became concerned that he was suicidal.  He was discharged with diagnosis of anxiety and depression and then went to New Orleans to help a friend's grandmother out.  It was there that he found a councilor (a random pick) and went to her to find out if his nightmares were real or imagination.  She ended up hypnotizing him and he found that the nightmares were real.  He had buried the memories, and they had started to resurface.   She asked him if anyone had every told him he might be dissociative.  What that means is that a person who has had significant emotional or physical/sexual trauma   may not be able to deal with their feelings, so they close those painful memories off or assign them to a part of their mind that only deals with that trauma.  It is sort of like a new person is inside the original person, but that person only deals with certain aspects that the original person has trouble dealing with. We call these different personalities. They are unique in that they handle only certain aspects of the whole.  Sometimes the original person is not aware of the other personalities or alters.  You dad, after he was told that that may be an issue for him felt the "rightness" of that to his soul and he set about reading all that he could and dealing with the issue.  He also was in counseling.   He decided to share his experience on Facebook and put it all out there.  That was at the beginning of summer.  We had you for the summer except for two weeks: the first week in June you went with your mom to the beach and then in July, just before we took you to Iowa for the family reunion. When you left to go with your mom the last of July, she did not bring you back and served your dad with papers called a restraining order because of mean texts that he sent her months before.    She also listed her concerns about his mental health based on his Facebook posts the beginning of summer.  We believe that she waited till the end of summer because she didn't have anyone to watch you.  Our attorney feels the same.  It is called very suspect timing.  The mean text was concerning Aries and his asthma.  Your dad woke up to Aries wheezing.  We have all noted Aries wheezing including Aunt Becky.  It's not just at our house, its everywhere.  When I pick him up at school he has a slight audible expiratory wheeze.  He has told me that he wheezes at mommy's house too.  He shared with me a year or so ago that Mommy made him drink vinegar to "clear his breathing" and if he didn't drink it he could not visit his daddy.  Allison you confirmed this to me as well.  For years your dad has tried to get your mom to get Aries tested so that he could get a rescue inhaler.  The mean text was a culmination of a long history of resistance from your mom.  After you were taken away from your dad that summer we had to wait till October to see you again.   The judge ruled against the restraining order and made it a no contact order.  you were allowed to visit every other weekend as long as I was there.  I was like the guardian.   Your dad and mom had to communicate thru an online app called the family app.  I was not mandated to be on that because I had never sent your mom or Granby a mean text EVER. 

June 15, 2025

I am pausing my narrative because today is Father's Day.  We went to church this morning and came home awaiting a call.  We both prayed that you would be able to call.  It's 4:30 and he has reached out to you without success.  I am not sure who I am upset with.  My choice is you guys or your mom.  Your mom has blocked all phone access from me and your dad so there is that, but I also know how if you want something bad enough you can pester the paint off the walls.  I want you to know that your dad is devastated that he cannot be with you.  I made him his book with the last year of pictures, and he cannot open it up.  " I just can't" but it's waiting on him when he is not hurting so badly.  I do want you to remember that each Mother's Day that we had you, your dad made arrangements for you to see and spend time with your mom.  We lost precious hours but he felt that it was important for you and her.  That's the difference between the two of them.  She might tell you that you and your dad can't visit unless it is in a monitored area but that didn't prevent her from dropping you off to get your stuff last week.  We hugged you for the last time till who knows when.  I am praying that you will call.  In all honesty your dad demonstrates more compassion than your mom... but then understand I likely am biased.  God is good.  You just called him.  It was on speaker phone but he will take what he can.  I am so glad you reached out it made his day.  

 It has been three years of just seeing you on every other weekend.  Little by little your dad's time has been taken away.  The courts are not friendly to dads.  During this journey we have heard that over and over.  Your mom, dad and you all had to see a "feelings" doctor for evaluation.  The little that I heard while he was interviewing your dad left me "cold" The doctor kept asking questions quickly and seemingly not giving your dad time to answer and then making judgement statements. Then they put a sound machine on so that we couldn't here anymore.   Your dad doesn't do well in situations like that and was prepared for something different.  He finished his session came out in tears, hugged me and told me he was so sorry " I couldn't explain myself I just couldn't" His evaluation was lengthy and had conditions that he felt Josh needed to meet to show progress.  He had met all of them.  He has been in counseling and is compliant on medication, he is in school and works as a student teacher (as part of his scholarship), his home is with me (which helps me out), he pays child support and caught up on the back owed. 

He went to a court hearing before Easter and the hearing officer was highly offended that he communicated with Aries with an angry voice and used the word "fuck" or a derivative.  We both were very angry at you Aries because you had used a credit card in my name and charged 125.00. We know it was not intentional on your part and that you thought they would refund the money if you didn't want the app.   That was our food budget for the weekend that you all were coming. You needed to know that actions have ramifications.  We had no "snacks" for the weekend and could not plan an outing.  Yes Aries, we were BOTH fucking angry BUT we both still love you to the moon and back.  I heard your dad tell you that that he was pissed but still loved you. You cried.  That was appropriate because you screwed up.  But you are still loved.  By the way both of you.... you may not use the "F" word.... I don't think the court realizes that is part of your vocabulary.

I was your guardian while you were at my house.  According to the court you could not be in the same place with your dad without me there.  It usually went that way but several times you were alone with him.  One of you was sick and we took you to the walk in clinic and due to the Covid hysteria only one person could be in the waiting room with the patient.  Two of us sat in the car while your dad took you inside.  I sat in the car for the father daughter dance at your school Allison.  Aries was at the neighbors.  There were times that your dad notified your mom that he was taking one of you to the store or out to eat.  We thought that was ok.  She thanked him for letting her know.  Now we realized that all those times were used against him.  You expressed true anger that you could not go alone to places with him and we explained that it was a court thing.  

I don't know if you remember but several years ago when you were spending more time with us you both came to me at different times and asked me the exact same question.  "Do you hate mommy and Gramby?"  That is what I call a trick and loaded question.  I answered the same to both of you exactly "no I do not" you both said, "well they hate you and daddy".  I told them both that I couldn't control what mommy and Gramby think and feel that I could only control what I felt.  I said, "how could I hate people who love you so much", The fact that they asked the same question with similar comebacks was very coincidental and I have often thought if you were put up to asking that question.  I will likely never know.  

August 3, 2025

Dear sweet Allison it was your birthday the other day.  We wanted to talk to you.  Your dad sent a message thru the special app asking for you to call.  He was told that you were off to camp.  Hopefully your mom will allow you to call when you get back.   I honestly don't hold a lot of hope for that. That being said I hope your day was filled with incredible fun.  You deserve all wonderful things.   Your dad said the saddest thing the other day.  He said that he feels like he doesn't have kids anymore.  It made me teary eyed.  He still hasn't looked at his Father's Day book yet.  He just said that It will cause him so much pain.  On Friday we went to a play at Opelousas Little theater.  Two kids from our church we in the play "Junie B Jones The Musical".  The kids were thrilled that we came.  They are 13 and 11.  Same age as you all.  They call me Mimi which makes me smile.  I think that the attention they give your dad may be helping him some.  The boy sat next to your dad at church and has been asking advice on artistic things and speaking.  They are having a day of prayer in September, and your dad has been asked to dance at the program.  He has been asked before but turned them down.  This time Ms. Allison cornered him, and he said he would.  I love our church.  I make the communion bread for the first Sunday of each month. I have a Hebrew recipe that I use called Matzah bread.  This was likely a similar type of bread that Jesus broke at the Last Supper.    Communion Sunday is becoming my favorite day.  You can truly feel the spirit of God moving thru the church.  I pray for both of you and your mom each day.     

Aunt Becky and her family went to San Antonio this last weekend and stayed at the resort that they use.  They went to Schlitterbahn Swim Park.  On Saturday they went to Pokécon 2025.  Winston got a platinum badge and got a special entrance to meet all the different youtubers and was able to ask questions and actively participate.  I know that Aries might have liked that.  

Our church is going on a Cruise in January.  It is for Pastor's birthday.  They asked us to come with them.  We have committed to the trip.  I am pretty excited.  I haven't been on a vacation since I went with Aunt Becky to Montana two years ago.  I just have to figure out what to do with the dogs.  

I am closing for now.  I will write again.  I miss you all so much.  The cousins said to tell you they miss you.  Your dad misses you more that anyone.  We do talk about you but it just hurts a lot.  I will continue to pray for you all.  

Nursing 50 Years and Counting

 It boggles my mind that I have been in nursing for the last 50 years.  I took a 4-month break during Covid to teach and take care of my grandchildren.  Those 4 months proved to me that my choice of professions was indeed a wise one.  I am not a teacher.  Patton said it best at the end of my "teaching" time I don't want teacher Mimi anymore, I want the grandma Mimi back.   

In my career I have managed to be at the right place at the right time.  I was supposed to be a labor and delivery nurse.  I scored the highest on my state boards in that section as I recall.  They did not have a night position in L and D but did in the ICU/CCU department.  I went there and in looking back I took care of patients for a week that now we would send home with a stent or two the same day. Their life expectancy much greater.  I scored sufficiently high enough on my boards that I had reciprocity in all the states so when I fell in love I was able to move to Pensacola.  I married my flight surgeon boyfriend, and my marriage lasted long enough to produce my son Joshua.  When I first moved, I was placed on a med-surg floor at Baptist Hospital.  I was HORRIBLE.  I am not a med-surg nurse, so they moved me into the SICU.  I really learned so much during that time and stayed until my son was born.  I was facing the end of my marriage, was depressed and needed a change.  Baptist was starting a Life Flight program which at the time was the third one in the nation behind Denver and Houston.  I was still in the hospital (they kept us several days post-delivery) when I went down to interview with Georgia Satterfield.  I don't remember much about it but remember having to sign something to release the hospital from liability if my uterus fell out on the helipad.  They wanted to start us up right away.  My mom came down to take care of Joshua until I could find a qualified sitter.  I had my son on good Friday and went to work a week from the following Monday.  I had no sick time and if I didn't work, we didn't eat.  We learned to intubate, put in chest tubes, do a cricothyroidotomy using a device that looked like a giant fishhook (its name completely escapes me) We ran the inhouse code blues and could put a central line it without much difficulty.  We had monthly advanced skills check list that had to be checked off or we didn't fly.  We were told our nurses were part of the first 27 to 30 nonmilitary flight nurses in the country.  I had so many experiences during my flight nurse time that I could probably write a book.  I met Bob Hope and have the picture to prove it.  I took extra time off to work as one of the nurses for Universal Studios during the filming of Jaws 2.  The pay was incredible, and I was able to keep Joshua with me.  They paid for a sitter at the hotel where I was set up to treat injuries.  The only time he was not with me was when I had to go out on the barge for the water scenes.  I met David Brown(producer and husband of Helen Gurley Brown, the editor in chief of Cosmo magazine) who offered me a full-time job out in California.  I still am not sure why I turned it down but did not feel like I wanted my son raised in that environment.  

Flying was losing its luster and after a time I became fearful.  It was just Joshua and me.  I hated leaving him each day and I felt that each time I went up or took a fixed wing transport somewhere that my odds became less and less for my safety.  I met and married Stan in 1980 and he moved me to Tulsa, Oklahoma.  I worked at Hillcrest Hospital in the Emergency Department, and it was an eye opener.  I cannot express how much I learned during that time.  I worked with an incredible group of doctors and nurses.... some I am still friends with to this day.   I got pregnant in Tulsa with my daughter.   Stan took a job in College Station, Texas and Rebekah was born at St. Joseph's Hospital where I was working, again back in the ICU.  After she was born, I moved down the street to the Humana Hospital and took over their ED.  I loved my time with Humana and lectured about Child abuse and molestation. I was led into that interest in Tulsa and was allowed to develop that interest by Humana.  Stan had another job change and moved us to Carencro, Louisiana.  I stayed in the emergency genre and would pick up parttime/prn jobs in areas that interested me like physical rehab and psych. For a short time I worked in Geri-psych full time instead of the ED. My final ER employment was in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana where I spent 23 years in a small community hospital.  My time there was cut short by covid.  My 
 abysmal ability to manage money proved to me that I still needed to work.  So, in September 2020 I started interviewing figuring that no one in their right mind would hire a fat, geriatric nurse who fell down at least once a week.  I was surprised at the number of places that seemed interested.  My problem was I would finish my interview then go to my car and cry my eyes out.  My last interview was at the Heart hospital.   I didn't cry but I was scared to death.  This was a completely new area for me.  Maranda my new manager promised that they would help me.  I was a basket case each day.  I never felt so inadequate in my whole career.  I was in a constant state of dumb ass for months but   they never, ever gave up on me.  I am in the CV short stay unit, and we have our day cases and those that we prepare for surgery.  I work with incredible nurses and truthfully manage up my whole hospital without reservation.  They put up with my quirky sense of humor and sarcasm, my constant questions (to this day) my long learning curve and have been able to mostly get the longstanding ER attitude out of my daily patient contacts.  There will come a time when Maranda will have the difficult job to tell me that my time is up and that I need to retire.  I joke about it but know that time will be here sooner than later.  My honest goal is 80.  I love my job, my patients and my hospital.  I am praying that God will allow me that much more time.  Staying home holds no interest to me.  All I have ever been is a nurse. It's what I love.   As it is now, I can close my eyes, and I am awash in memories.  I remember India T.  in Pensacola on the med/surg floor. She was young and beautiful, dying of cancer in a time when ovarian cancer was a no hope diagnosis. I held her hand and watched her die.  I can still see the trauma patient in the SICU that had a lacerated liver.  She lived for 3 months in my unit. It was a different time and what seems now like the medical dark ages.  Her parents sent me a Christmas card each year till I moved, thanking me for loving their daughter.  I can still see the mother of a young boy, hit by a car that we picked up on the helicopter.  He was truthfully dead, and we were suctioning up what looked like lung tissue. His mother grabbed me by the shoulders and said YOU SAVE HIM he is my baby.  We flew him in and I unloaded hot.  The ER doctor looked at me like I was nuts when I screamed at him that we had to try that I had promised his mom.  To his credit and because I was hysterical, he ran a 30-minute code.  We moved his little body to a back room, and I escorted his mom to his bedside.  I was openly weeping.  and watched as she stroked his head and looked at me and asked What should I get a boy who is going to be 10? I have what seems like dozens of memories.  Most will not be shared unless I have wine, and no one is recording what is being said.  I am happy with the nurse that I have become in my twilight years.  I am happy that I still have time to show compassion to those who are afraid.  I am grateful that I have the ability to make my patients laugh and ease their visit. I am grateful that the staff that I work with now will likely be my final group of nurses.  I cannot imagine working with a better group of people who place patient comfort and care as their top priority.  These wonderful nurses had a party for me to celebrate my 50 years.  I ugly cried for a few minutes.  I am glad that nursing found me.  I am glad that I have met people that changed me for the better.  I am grateful for all my experiences of which only a partial accounting is in this blog.  I believe that I serve God in what I do, and I am grateful.

Ruthie - Rest in Peace Dear Friend

 Tonight, I lost the first in my village of courageous women.  My village is not that big, and the loss is immense physically, emotionally and most of all spiritually.  When Stan and I moved to Texas in 1981 she was my second Texas friend.  Jojo was my first.  I needed a babysitter for my 4-year-old son and Stan actually found Ruth. This started what would be a 44-year friendship of love, loss, agonizing heartbreak and laughter.  She was spiritually gifted, and God spoke to her on a regular basis.  He answered her prayers, and she never failed to do what the Lord wanted her to do.  She would get "nudges" and hardly ever failed to answer what inevitably was a call from God.  On the rare times she ignored her nudge she would regret it sincerely.  It might be a call to go to the Electric Co. and pay a bill for a perfect stranger or give her last dollar to someone on the street.  When she answered the "call" her blessings would come in abundance.  We bought her house in Texas, and she moved to a bigger home several miles away.  We both lived in College Station, but I was closer to Texas A &M.  I was in charge of a Humana ED and could not get my house together.  I was too busy at work and was exhausted when I got home.  My house was large about 3000sq f, and it was in chaos.  One morning I was headed out to drop the kids off and Ruth and her two oldest, Tiffany and Jenny were standing there with brooms, buckets and mops. Ruth homeschooled the kids at that time and she said that God told her to come to my house and have home-ec.  with her kids.  I had to leave for work and when I got home many hours later, my house was completely put in order with all the moving boxes undone and put away.  My laundry was done, the dishes cleaned, dinner was ready and the toilets were scrubbed.  I looked in amazement and of course cried.  I told her that what they had done would have cost me 200$.  That was a lot of money 40+ years ago.  She went home and I got a call from her shortly after telling me thru laughter that she sure wished I had said it was worth 500$ because she had an unaddressed envelope with just her name on the front and 200 cash inside.  There was a note telling her that Jesus loved her. Then there was the meat miracle.  Ruth was my rich friend and her husband had lots of oil wells.  They had a big house and a big swimming pool.  This was in the early to mid 1980s and the first oil crisis hit.  They went from boom to bust literally overnight.  They did not tell a soul.  They started giving things away from office supplies, clothes, jewelry, food and their very last penny for their tithe to the Lord. The day of the meat miracle had their house empty of all food.  They didn't have a cracker.  I was oblivious to the need and went to get my Limousin calf that I had slaughtered.  As I was marking off each piece as they put it in the sack a voice inside my head said that piece is Ruths.  It stopped me cold. I was doubting what I had heard.  Next time it was stronger.  I stopped the meat man and made him get out the last wrapped piece and put in a sack labeled Ruth.   Then we continued on until I "heard" again that something was for Ruth.  The man commented that he wished his name was Ruth.  I had multiple bags that we loaded in the car and I was off to Ruthies.  I had no clue what I was going to tell my "rich" friend as to why I brought her meat.  When I got to the house and knocked on the door her husband answered, and I said "I ummmm I  ... well I have meat for you" Imagine my surprise when they both fell to their knees crying and praising God.  Not an hour before another woman who was not a close friend had delivered bags upon bags of groceries, can goods, milk, and all the food that Ruth and the kids liked.  Ruth believed that the four food groups were raisins, chocolate chips, M and Ms and fruit roll ups.  The other woman was a health food mama and didn't condone processed food.  But she was apparently used to hearing God because he took her on a shopping spree buying food that she would not have dreamed of buying for her family, but she obeyed the Lord and brought all the crap food that Ruth and her kids(and mine) loved. Ms. Rose truly did not know Ruth's dietary preferences she just bought what God told her to get EXCEPT MEAT.  God told her and she told Ruth that someone else was coming with the meat.  

Ruth carried me through some of the worst times of my life.  My son was molested at a day care center.  We caught the guy and had to go to court.  She came with me the entire time.  And when Michael Williams got on the stand, she grabbed my hand and began to bind the spirits of lying.  Michael acted like he was choking.  He kept trying to talk and would gag.  He finally was able to gasp out answers to questions but seemed stunned at his own admissions.   He opted for a trial with just a judge and then admitted to pretty much everything after pleading not guilty.  Like I said he was stunned. Ruth's final comment before she stopped praying was God, deal with this man.  He went to prison and was not allowed to finish medical school.  I could probably write a book about the miracles that happened to Ruth.  I was witness to many, so I know that they were true.  God did bless his daughter.  She was not afraid to witness her love for Jesus.  She was dearly loved by my Mom, Ina Lee.  Her girls called my mom their Grandma Ina.  My mom flew from Ohio to Texas to stay with Ruth and help her with the births of her last two girls, Faith and Joy.  Mom didn't stay with me.... 5 miles away... she stayed with Ruth.  Mom told me that I didn't need her, but Ruthie did.  She honestly looked at Ruth as another daughter and they were so close spiritually.  

We attended weddings and funerals together.  She was an equal opportunity crier.  I told her one time as I handed her yet another wad of Kleenex at my niece's wedding that she could hire herself out as a professional weeper at any event.  She looked at me with one eyelash nearly off, tears dripping down her face she said it's just so beautiful..... WAIT you can get PAID for this??  We were hysterical. You really took a big chance sitting us together, we were out of control at times.  But we were immensely fun.  She loved my whole family, and they loved her back.  She was a friend to my friends.  Jill Forbes became another bestie to her.  It was such a kick for me to have friends who genuinely loved each other.  

She was the garage sale queen and had it down to a science.  She would pick me up at 430am on Saturdays with 2 thermoses of coffee and 2 packs of cigarettes.  I told Stan that I quit smoking before we ever got married.  Only I didn't.  That's another story for a different day.  Anyway, I smoked Ruthies.  She had the newspaper, map and a flashlight and off we would go.  She knew where to go first and how long to stay.  I dressed my kids in the most up to date clothes and paid pennies for them because of her ability to bargain.   She would pick up a piece of what I thought was junk, pay a few dollars for it and turn around within a week selling it for 10 times that amount.  I remember an ugly wooden chair she bought for 5$. As I recall she hinted to the owner that the chair might be valuable, but the owner wasn't interested.   She took it home cleaned it up made a few calls and sold it for over 200$. It was some antique that she recognized. 

We celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas together every year. What started out as just family at Thanksgiving ended up the first year with about 50 kids from A and M that didn't have anywhere to go.  We had 3 turkeys, about 20lbs of barbecued venison, 10 pies or so, acorn squash by the dozen, rolls, green beans, and her damn tomato aspic that she had to have.  It looked like jellied blood, and I couldn't even look at it. The last Christmas we spent together in Texas was the most meaningful.  Instead of buying ridiculous amounts of presents for our kids we drew names, and we had to do good deeds for strangers as our gift to the person whose name we drew. It was a challenge to do something for a stranger anonymously in the name of Jesus.  On Christmas Eve after Dinner we sat in my game room and each person "gave" their gift to the person whose name they drew.  The entire room, men included were in tears.  It was a glorious being able to bless someone in need.  

The week before Christmas Ruth and I would go to K Mart at night and wait for the blue light specials. it didn't matter what it was whenever the special was announced over head, off we would run(and we RAN) to the area and scoop up whatever it was that was announced.  We scored a lot of toys and clothes.  Then we would take our goodies back to the house and wrap it up.  Then she would take the gifts out and drop them off at houses that she found out were in need.  I was in awe of my friend.  These ideas for giving were all from her.  I was along for the ride and the cigarettes.  All Ruth had to do was call me and say " Hey do you want to........" (fill in the blank) and I was game.   I pretty much knew at that point that God talked to her and if I wanted to witness His will being done firsthand that I had better get my clothes on and get ready to go.  Oh, we laughed all the time.  We loved each other's kids like our own.  I trusted her to always be honest with me and she was.  We shared our heartbreak knowing that we could depend on the other to pray for a solution.  She loved me despite my many flaws and set out to make me my best self.  She would hysterically laugh at a perceived trauma I was going through, and I would often return the favor.  She knew that laughter was indeed good medicine and that I was making a big deal out of nothing.  

 A month ago, she called while in the hospital after a bout of coughing up blood.  I knew then that my friend was in serious trouble. With her nurse in the room and me on the phone she was asking why she had to have an MRI of her brain.  The nurse said because you told the doctor about your confusion and headaches.  I was on speaker and introduced myself as a nurse.  I told her nurse that I had known Ruth for over 40 years and that she had always been confused..... but that I couldn't testify to the headaches though.  Ruth and I cracked up.  It was the last time I laughed with my friend.  She went rapidly downhill and died tonight at her home.  

People prayed for her all over the United States.  I prayed and asked God to give my friend another season that I wasn't sure I could handle losing her.... my friend, my confidant my prayer warrior. I texted her daily and it was placed on my heart to write a text about an angel sitting beside her as an answer to all those asking God to send a ministering angel to her.  I want to share in this blog my last text today.  

            

And the woman asked the Angel "why am I going through this? I'm in pain, I'm confused, I'm sad and I'm scared? Why is this happening?  And the angel answered "And yet with all this poured out on you, you still believe.  Daughter of the King you are being purified.  I have been sent to support you and help you" And the angel raised her hands to glorify the Father and then laid her hands on the woman.  BE AT PEACE..... The Lord is here. 

Oh my dear sweet friend.  I will miss you each day.  I will tell Ruth stories to those who will listen.  I will tell the stories of your miracles so that other will know we serve a living God.   I added a picture by Kerolos Safwat that reminds me of Ruth and her entrance into Heaven.  I know that she leaped into His arms and said I'm home Jesus, I am home. 

Aging, Fragility, Finances and Making the Most of the Time I have left

 I go to counseling.  I occasionally have homework to do and usually am more comfortable with writing.  I like to write and understand that I don't do it well per se because I am not a stickler for punctuation and grammar.  I am more of a content girl.   I am 72 years old, in the twilight of my life, and I have much less time on this side of heaven than before.  I love life and view each day as an adventure.  Admittedly I am more sensitive and tend to get my feelings hurt more easily. I find myself crying over religious podcasts.  I get emotional over TV shows and movies.  I will visit my grands and get teary eyed when I leave them because the love that I feel for them is so intense.  Each hug that they give me is a treasure to me.  I think about their arms around me, and it brings me such joy.  Joshua's kids are less enthusiastic in their outward expressions BUT the last few visits I have gotten a hard hug and when I tell them I love them (which is often to all my grands) I get a return "Love you too" from both of them.  When they left the last time, I cried. When my time on earth is over my children and grands will hold the memories of me.  I want them to hold me in their hearts with laughter and joy.  I want them to remember that I loved them so well.  I don't remember being this emotional when my kids were young, maybe I was but I don't remember.  I do remember that I never left them without telling them that I loved them.  I think I do that because if anything would ever happen to me, I want the last thing I say is I love you.  

I have had a productive life.  I have been married twice.  I was divorced from my son's father when Josh was 3 weeks old.  Stan was my second husband and father to my daughter.  We stayed married 39 years till his death in 2019.  I am alone now and intend on staying that way.  I have no interest in disrupting the peace I have now. I have my dogs and my son lives with me.  I don't know how long he will stay.  Josh says he wants to stay and help me as I get older so that I can stay in my house.  I selfishly like this plan but honestly would like him to have his own life unencumbered by a cranky old lady.   Time will tell.  I know that I depend on him more and more.  I still work as often as they call me and in June 2025 will have been a working RN for 50 years. It's much harder now than it was 10 years ago.  Physically I am a mess, and I am glad that Josh is here.   He helps me up the stairs after a long day, carries in my groceries, takes out the garbage, mows the lawn and cleans.  We have issues that we are learning to work through.  I have to get to the point where he does not need me for anything except occasional advice.  In the past I have taken care of everything relating to bills and appointments because it's something he does not like to do.  The other day he admitted that he needs to start managing more because I will not be here.  It scares me that I will not have enough time.  

I have had 2 hip replacements, I had breast cancer and elected to have bilateral mastectomies at 52.  I have battled my weight for years and elected to have a gastric sleeve 3 years ago this September.  This was the best decision I have ever made.  I can now walk without acute shortness of breath.  I can wear great clothes again and feel better about myself.  I have hanging skin that is a visible badge to my success and I don't care that it hangs out.  Since mid-April I have been suffering with a tendonitis on the outside of my right foot. It is hard to describe that pain that occurs.  I have not missed work because quite frankly it hurts at home so I might as well make money.  Rest does not seem to be effective.  My doctor told me to get custom orthotics to correct my supination.  My overpriced insurance will not pay a single dime.  I went to Amazon and ordered 2 inserts for plantar supination.   They have helped somewhat and cost me 30$ vs the 400$ for the custom made.  I also am using Frankincense oil and helichrysum Oil mixed in almond carrier oil. I massage into both feet 3 times a day.  This is really "woo-woo" science for me.  This was suggested and I am trying anything that might help.  I have noticed a difference in the last 3 days, and I work tomorrow so I am anxious to see what a difference it will make.   When I got up the other day and navigated my way around the dogs to the bathroom it hit me how "fragile" I felt.  I am old.  I cannot do the things that I used to with ease.  I have early osteopenia and osteoporosis (partially caused by my lack of consumption of calcium since my surgery) I will be taking corrective action, but I am fearful of falling.  I am in physical therapy for my foot, and we discussed the need for me to start a weightlifting program for overall wellness.  I have the "don't wants".  I lack the gumption to go to the gym but it's now a necessity for me to be able to get around if I am blessed to see my 80's. 

My friend told me not to let an old lady crawl inside my body (and mind) my answer was I think she has already taken residence.  I need to evict her and make the life choices to do just that.  I get questioned everyday by my patients why I have not retired.  I actually like to work.  I love the hospital, the people I work with and my schedule.  My patient population is the best.  I feel better working and financially I need to work.  All my life I have made very poor financial decisions.  Now, understand at the time, I closed my eyes, knowing it was not a good idea and forged ahead. I still battle with the desire for immediate gratification in purchases.    I am not sure that if I could have a do over if I would change those choices I made. I would love to be able to have the physicality and mental acuity to work till I am at least 76.   I don't know what I would do with my time if I stayed home.  Being a nurse has been my identity for 50 years.  If I quit being a nurse, then I would be the crazy dog lady.  

Spirituality had taken a forefront in my life the past year or two. I renewed my walk with Jesus and spend time every day with reading the bible and listening to bible education podcasts.  I think about my mom a lot and realize that the time is coming when I will see her again.  I am assured that heaven is my destination and worry about my family.  My mom worried about her children and grandchildren.  She told me before she died that she had prayed for all of us and that she believed that we would all be together again.  It's a choice though, I have to choose to follow my Savior and live the life that glorifies my God.  I think that a good portion of people as they are facing the last years become more introspective and realize that the lives they have lived have not been for the glory of God.  I really regret the years I wasted that I could have spent serving God.  I believe that we are in the end times.  It is going to be more and more difficult to follow Jesus.  I just pray that I can be a light and that I can show the love of our Lord to those that I meet.   I pray for my children and my grandchildren that they will know the love of our God and that they too will choose to follow Him.  

"Aging is a moral and spiritual frontier because its unknowns, terrors, and mysteries cannot be successfully crossed without humility and self-knowledge, without love and compassion, without acceptance of physical decline and mortality and a sense of the sacred"  Thomas R. Cole

My Christmas Carol

 Undoubtedly my favorite Christmas book and movie is Dickens A Christmas Carol.  As most of you know the story, I will not go into detail but only to say that Scrooge is shown his life in the past, present, and future.  He revisits times when he could have acted with compassion and chose not to.  His future was dismal with no one mourning his passing.  In the end he changed his life for the better and became well loved and respected.  We all have the ability to look back in the past and evaluate our present to better understand how that can impact our future. My councilor wanted me to connect with my joys in the past and this time of year, for me, is my most joy filled time.

My earliest memories of the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is filled with memories of family, food, and warmth. before I was eight, we went to my grandparent's farm for holidays. I don't remember presents but do remember the warmth of my grandma's hug and her wonderful meals.  I remember playing for hours with her saltshaker collection by the warmth of the Franklin Stove.  I managed to save a few and have them with me today in my kitchen.  They are old and somewhat rusty, but they are visible reminders of my grandma and Pappy.  My aunt, uncle and 2 cousins were always there as well, and we would all eat at the table in the dining room. Christmas was the best and my memories of that time still warm me inside. 

We were not wealthy by any means and in fact my mom told me of times that my absent father would give her 25$ just before Christmas to get our presents.  I am sure she saved a few dollars throughout the year because it seemed like each Christmas was the best.  I remember decorating the tree with silver tinsel and glass ornaments that she had saved.  The lights were large and hot so we couldn't leave them on long.  We opened our presents on Christmas morning, and I would leave my presents opened up under the tree.  We got necessities like shoes, slips, hose and clothing.  We always got a doll or stuffed animal.  I collected horses and would get a Breyer horse set with a mare, foal, and stallion.  I would play with them for hours.  Before Christmas we would go downtown on the bus to Lazarus Department store.  It was a treat to see all the storefront windows that were all holiday inspired.  We stood in line to visit Santa. and let him know what we wanted.  My mom would tell a story about taking us downtown for Christmas and not realizing   that I had taken my panties off.  She discovered my bare butt when she picked me up to hold me while we were in the Santa line.  We had to get out of line, and she had to go buy me panties.  Another "me" story that I associate with Christmas is the time that she bought a harness so that she could keep track of me.  Apparently, I tended to wander off frequently. That's a shock.  The harness fit like a vest and was nowhere near my neck.  She tells the story that I repeatedly gagged and choked so often that a store detective stopped her to make sure I was alright. I remember a place in the store where children could shop for their parents.  No parent was allowed as I recall.  My mom also saved S&H green stamps and would glue them in books.  We would use those books to go to Big Bear and get her presents.  In school we would make something from ceramics to give as a gift.  I still have a "lovely" vase I made her.  She got ashtrays, plaster handprints. and homemade jewelry.   My favorite gift that I made her was a terry cloth bathmat in white with orange footprints that I had traced after mine.  I hand sewed them to the mat and was so excited to see her open her special present.  I have a remnant of that mat in my closet.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVED getting presents, but my happiness was in gifting.  I made homemade cards at school and at home.  She loved what I made by hand just as much as I loved giving them to her.  After age 8 my grandparents sold their farm and holidays were spent between my aunt's house and ours.  We alternated Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It was again a time of family and laughter.  At our house the tree would be up, and the white plaster Nativity made by my sister Patti would be on our mantle.  It seemed that we sat around the table for hours just visiting and telling stories.  As I got older, I took more interest in decorating and have carried that through today however I am probably "extra" in my view of decorating.  Instead of "less is more" I go by the theory that more is more and better.  Much to the regret of my husband I had 27 boxes of decorations, three trees and I collected animated musical animals that sang various Christmas ditties. I also developed a passion for nativity scenes. 

 The darkest part of my Christmas history was a period of about 2 years that I could not have people over because our house was not ready for company. I remember the depression I felt during that time.  I loved to entertain and had a dinner for many on Christmas Eve serving the same menu that I had made for years.  Then I would stay up all hours to prepare for Christmas morning breakfast and I wanted my family to return to open presents.  I was too much.  I expected too much from my family and for that I have regrets.  I wanted to create memories and traditions that my children to take and adapt to their families. I look back on those few years as a cleansing time for me.  I wasn't ready to turn over the reins of the holiday get together to my daughter, but it was a necessity, and she was more than up to the task.  I still make some of the same things for dinner, but it's now held at her farm.  I am actually happy she is doing this because she entertains so beautifully.  After Stan died and my house got fixed up Christmas retuned to my house but only for dinner and then it morphed into a children's party.  Dinner has returned to Becky's home, and I have a cousin Christmas usually a week before Christmas.  The grandkids come over and get their Mimi and Taunte Jill presents, and we have snack food.  Becky also has Christmas morning breakfast and I go over to watch the grands open up their presents.  I am glad that she is developing her family transitions that her children will copy and carry on.  This year I had the grands over and my grandson said the best thing to this mega-decorating grandma.  He said "Mimi it looks like a fairy land" I asked him if that was a good thing and he answered in the affirmative.  This year I really decorated because it makes me smile.  My decorations start coming out before Halloween and I start taking down by New Years.  I will continue to go overboard on my decorations as long as I can because it makes me happy. Hopefully when it gets to the point where I can't do it anymore myself, I will have a grandchild or two who will come and do it for me. 

Looking back, I can trace all my traditions that I hold dear to my past and right or wrong they are my mainstay; however, I am changing.  I am in the twilight of my life I have less years left than I care to think about, and change can be hard. I am spending more time thinking about my relationship with God and my salvation.  I am spending time thinking about what memories I will leave when I am gone.  I want my children and grandchildren to know with assurity  that I loved them with every fiber of my being.  That I loved them all unconditionally and my first and last thought will always be them.  I want them to be able to look back and smile when they think of me.  I want them to know that Jesus is my King and that I was a grandmother that prayed.  All in all, I want my legacy to be that of faith, love and laughter.  I want that because that was what my mother's legacy was to me. 

And I Cried......

 I had a wonderful vacation with my daughter's family.  We went to Big Sky Montana over Thanksgiving.  It was beautiful and cold.  My grandchildren were having the best time in the snow.  Me not so much.  I am not a fan of cold weather and snow but watching them all play gave me great joy.  We had a family of foxes that appeared below our window, and they obviously had become used to human contact and stayed fairly close to the kids when they were outside.  One actually sheltered between our condo entrance and the entrance to Becky's in-law's condo. The condo company, obviously aware of the foxes, had a password to the internet warning about feeding them.  We mostly obeyed that request, but the kids were fascinated with the beautiful animals.  My best day was on Wednesday prior to Thanksgiving when we went horseback riding.  We had a two-hour trail ride through Yellowstone.  I knew that I would have trouble getting on and off the horse because, well, quite frankly, I'm old and not very agile.  I am reminded of the meme out there that says, " some people can turn cartwheels, I'm just grateful that I can put on my pants and not fall over." That's me in a nutshell.   Becky and Shane got out at the site to sign the paperwork and then Becky came back and told me that they needed me to sign for myself and advise them of my concerns.  It concerned me because I was really looking forward to this event.  Our two young wranglers were so sweet.  I told them that I would have a real struggle getting on and off but once on I was good to go.  I have years of experience riding.... 40 years past and knew I was well able to handle the horse.  I got teary eyed.  I told them that this was likely the last time I would ever be able to ride, and I was going to do it.  Caroline, our guide, told me that she would make it happen and give me the best ride possible.  Getting me on Mogli the horse was a comedy, but we did it.  Caroline looked at me critically and said, you can tell you have ridden.  You have good hands, and your seat is good.  High praise for me.  As we started out in that beautiful park the tears started to flow.  We were in a line so no one could see me.  I was 24 again.  I was able to leap on my Arabian, Copafan's back, without using stirrups.  I was agile, quick, and I didn't fall down once a month like I do now.  I was back at a time when my whole life was ahead of me.  I hadn't made any decisions that would alter my life, good or bad.  It was just me and my horses Copafan and Sultan.  It was such an incredible and innocent time.  I kept wiping the tears away and wishing I had brought more Kleenex.  God spoke to me on that ride.  I felt him ask me what would I change? I realized that I would change nothing except that I would not stray as far as I had in following the will of God.  The tears continued as I realized that I had so many wasted years when I could have been of service to God.  I chased the wrong ideals and focused on the wrong things that I thought would bring me happiness.  I sinned, as we all do, and didn't give it a second thought. I justified actions that now I would not.  The tears continued when I realized that my Savior had been there all the times I failed waiting for me to talk to him again.  The cold air and beautiful scenery gave way to the glory of God.  And I cried.  I have reached the age of 71 and I have so much to be thankful for.  God has always been there, a whisper away protecting me from myself.  I have been granted a wonderful daughter and son, five glorious grandchildren who make me laugh, a job that I love, a house to come home to, and four of the most spoiled dogs you can imagine.  In my mind's eye I can see my mom smiling, not because I am on a horse again, but that her prayers were answered.  My tears stopped just before we reached the halfway point.   I was so joyful watching our family ride and enjoying the time together.  You cannot imagine how full my heart was at that moment.  Getting off the horse was easier.  Shane just told me to kick my foot out of the far stirrup and fall back and he would catch me.  He did. He is another blessing to me in so many ways.     I cannot jump on a horse's back without stirrups or ride bareback without falling off, but I CAN let my kids and grandkids know that I love them unconditionally and give thousands of kisses that they tolerate.  I can serve my risen Savior in my daily life and show His love through my actions.  I can pray and glorify God every day.  I can continue to walk through life with the time I have left knowing that I do not walk alone, He is there ready to catch me before I fall, and to show me what I need to do in his name. He is there to heal my heart when it feels broken.  I am so very, very blessed.