There are actually some things that I like.
I like animals
I like clouds and sunsets
I like spring breezes
I like old people
I like strange people
I like bluegrass and western music (not country), hymns
I like rhubarb
I like onions, cabbage, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, almost all veggies
I like mountains
I like trees
I like books
I like to draw
I like to take naps
I like to sit outside either in the sun or in the shade, depending
I like just barely glimpsing some laugh provoking thing as I drive, something no one else sees
I like corned beef
I like to daydream
Monday, March 17, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
PET PEEVES
Boy, too numerous to list, I’m afraid. Of course, maybe some are merely things that annoy me, others are things that aggravate me, and others are things that amaze me.
Ring, ring. Hello. Oh, you’re home!
Ring, ring. Hello. Oh, I thought you were gone.
The house is still burning with three bodies inside. News Lady with microphone; "Excuse me, Mrs. Jones. Can you tell us how you feel about losing your husband and two children in this unfortunate fire?"
Babies sitting on laps in cars.
Dogs running around on a flatbed truck, which is going highway speed.
People who blame everything on someone else, or on a circumstance. Never admitting their part.
People who say, "don’t make me hurt you." Or "see what you made me do!"
People who hang onto every little slight and hurt feeling from day one, and who bring it up forever.
Motel pillows. That’s why I take my own pillow.
Perfect people. You know the kind.
People who mumble.
People who won’t shake hands under any circumstances, for fear of germs.
People who tailgate too closely to see my brake lights and turn signals.
People who paint gang speak on people’s property. You know, graffiti "artists"
Gangstra rap.
"I’ve lived here all my life." Duh, not yet!!!
Carl Jr.’s commercials
Commericals by drug companies
Commericals by lawyers
People who wear too much cologne or perfume, especially in a crowded place, like church or a movie.
Laundry detergent aisle in stores (the fumes).
Bullies. Bullies, and more bullies. All kinds, human or animal.
Business meetings without an agenda to follow; or not sticking to the agenda.
Children who are disobedient to their parents.
Parents who haven’t taught their kids to obey.
Biased reporting
People who drive while talking on cell phone, especially with little kids in the car.
People who talk on cell phone loudly, in public, next to me.
And finally, People like me, who have lots of pet peeves.
Friday, March 14, 2008
My appreciation
I never knew having a blog and blogger friends would be so much fun! I really enjoy reading about other people's wishes, desires, aspirations, funny stories, frustrations. I can certainly understand why it can become an absolute time-consuming hobby. Thanks to all of you.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Moonsweeper, a repost
This was written by my Flower of the Family, Julie, about Gaylen.
MOONSWEEPER
Once upon a time there was a man who loved the moon
He loved the big, full, orange moon of the fall, the pale white moon of winter,
and the yellow moon that came in summer.
During new moon he would quietly mourn the absence
of his round-faced friend,
and when the full moon would reappear he would befilled with joy,
During new moon he would quietly mourn the absence
of his round-faced friend,
and when the full moon would reappear he would befilled with joy,
as if seeing it for the first time.As this man who loved the moon grew older,
an amazing thing began to happen.
His body was aging, but his mind was not.
He could still look at things with true wonder in his eyes,
and be happy just to see them.
The people around him changed.
Some of them grew up and moved away,
some just got older, and others died.
But the man who loved the moon remained the same.
an amazing thing began to happen.
His body was aging, but his mind was not.
He could still look at things with true wonder in his eyes,
and be happy just to see them.
The people around him changed.
Some of them grew up and moved away,
some just got older, and others died.
But the man who loved the moon remained the same.
He greatly mourned the loss of his friends,
but the moon could always cheer him.
but the moon could always cheer him.
As time went on and his body aged he was moved
from what friends he still had to a place that could care for him better.
But they did not know how he loved his moonand,
from what friends he still had to a place that could care for him better.
But they did not know how he loved his moonand,
not being with his loved ones and having a new moon
to look at was more than his heart could take.
to look at was more than his heart could take.
Go outside on the next full moon.Look at it. Really look
.See the texture and how the shadows fall to make a face.
Notice the color, the roundness and the size.
People don’t become angels and Heaven is the home to God’s saints,
but I think that once a month for a day or two God
lets one man take care of the moon,
the moon that was such a friend to him while he was on this earth.
but I think that once a month for a day or two God
lets one man take care of the moon,
the moon that was such a friend to him while he was on this earth.
Gaylen, a repost
Gaylen
For many years, I’ve heard the expression "special" applied to developmentally disabled persons and I always felt it was rather patronizing. But then Gaylen came into my life. He was indeed "special". My heart still tweaks when I think of him and it’s been many years since he went to be with his Lord.The beginning of our relationship is a little vague. He was residing in a nursing home near our church and he began attending, usually walking to and from and occasionally allowing us to transport him by car, van, and, later by bus. Somehow we thought this was a privilege! At some point it became his "job" to empty the trash cans in the church and adjoining Christian School. He was never asked to do this but took it upon himself, probably because that was his job at Developmental Training Services where he went daily. Upon arriving home he would walk the block or so to his "other job". One late evening he was found sitting outside the pastor’s study window, apparently waiting for the opportunity to empty the pastor’s trash can.Gaylen had a wonderful relationship with the children at the school. They loved him and learned much about feeling comfortable about "different" people. Although Gaylen was in his early 40’s he was very much like a child in his feelings and thinking (he had Down’s Syndrome). One day he came to the school wearing the medal he had won in Special Olympics. While playing ping-pong, one of the boys began teasing Gaylen about getting a necklace from a girlfriend. Gaylen put up with it for a while and then he took action.Joe had hit the ball astray and, when it stopped rolling, Gaylen casually walked over as if he intended to pick it up for Joe. Instead he very carefully stepped on it and smashed it. Joe reported it to the teacher who came and questioned Gaylen about it. "Gaylen, did you step on the ping-pong ball?" "No." "Gaylen, let me see what you have in your hand." Gaylen opened his hand, saw the smashed ball and exclaimed, "Oh! THAT ping-pong ball!"Gaylen was the only one besides the pastor’s wife who was allowed to address the pastor by his first name.Gaylen was the perfect church member. He was so devoted, however, that he would come to church sick. One time he passed out and we had to have someone from the nursing home come and get him. He was in bed for a week with the flu. They had to use safety devices to keep him in bed long enough to recover. He also listened attentively. On many occasions, when I would go to the nursing home on Sunday afternoon, I would find Gaylen standing in front of his mirror preaching, using the same words, expressions, and inflections that the pastor used that morning. Gaylen had his own "sitting place" at church and woe unto the innocent who sat in his place. One occasion stands out in my mind. A couple (who probably knew better but were displaced when someone sat in their place) sat in Gaylen’s row, at his end of the front pew. When he saw this, he snapped his fingers loudly, pointed at the couple, and motioned them out of his place. Of course, who argues with such authority? They moved.This wonderful fellow always wore his cowboy hat and carried his "banjo" (which was actually a cheap guitar). He would strum and sing songs for the children. It sounded terrible but he was so full of love for everybody that it didn’t seem to matter somehow.Gaylen loved Jesus and knew he would go to Heaven. He loved the moon and talked about visiting it when he went to Heaven. On day at church he kept trying to tell me something. As he was somewhat difficult to understand at times, I didn’t think too much of it. He kept saying he was going to Salida, a neighboring town. Going on outings wasn’t unusual at this particular nursing home so I thought little of it. Later that week I learned that he was being placed in a group home in Salida where he could live a "more independent" life with other developmentally disabled persons. Before a week had passed, my dear Gaylen got to go to be with the Jesus he loved so much.Later, I learned that the people caring for him wondered about the church and school he repeatedly asked to go to, and that they had no idea who "Carl" (the pastor) was that he kept asking for. My heart breaks when I think of that week. I wanted to go see him the very first weekend he was gone but convinced myself I should let him make an adjustment first. Before the next weekend came, he was gone. I know in my heart that he didn’t understand what "going to Salida" meant. I don’t believe he had the capability to understand what "moving to Salida" meant in terms of time. He didn’t know he was going to stay there. I TRULY BELIEVE THAT GAYLEN DIED OF A BROKEN HEART. In my head I know that Down’s Syndrome people reach a peak in their 40’s and then start a decline which ends in total dependency. We know now that it is the same as Alzheimer’s disease and it would have been terrible to see Gaylen go through that. I also know that heart abnormalities are common in people with Down’s Syndrome and that it was a massive heart attack that killed him. But I truly believe that he died of a broken heart because he couldn’t find the church and his beloved friends.It was the sweetest funeral I had ever attended. All the children from the school and Gaylen’s friends from DTS were there. Gaylen is buried where there is no perpetual upkeep but his friends from DTS keep his grave clean and decorated. I was concerned that he would never have a headstone, but someone has made him one out of concrete, a simple one but one made out of love. The important thing is that Gaylen is in Heaven and probably is the moon-keeper or something. I think of him absolutely every time I see the moon, especially a full moon because that’s the one he especially loved.Knowing this man was such a blessing to our church family. Thank you, dear Lord!
For many years, I’ve heard the expression "special" applied to developmentally disabled persons and I always felt it was rather patronizing. But then Gaylen came into my life. He was indeed "special". My heart still tweaks when I think of him and it’s been many years since he went to be with his Lord.The beginning of our relationship is a little vague. He was residing in a nursing home near our church and he began attending, usually walking to and from and occasionally allowing us to transport him by car, van, and, later by bus. Somehow we thought this was a privilege! At some point it became his "job" to empty the trash cans in the church and adjoining Christian School. He was never asked to do this but took it upon himself, probably because that was his job at Developmental Training Services where he went daily. Upon arriving home he would walk the block or so to his "other job". One late evening he was found sitting outside the pastor’s study window, apparently waiting for the opportunity to empty the pastor’s trash can.Gaylen had a wonderful relationship with the children at the school. They loved him and learned much about feeling comfortable about "different" people. Although Gaylen was in his early 40’s he was very much like a child in his feelings and thinking (he had Down’s Syndrome). One day he came to the school wearing the medal he had won in Special Olympics. While playing ping-pong, one of the boys began teasing Gaylen about getting a necklace from a girlfriend. Gaylen put up with it for a while and then he took action.Joe had hit the ball astray and, when it stopped rolling, Gaylen casually walked over as if he intended to pick it up for Joe. Instead he very carefully stepped on it and smashed it. Joe reported it to the teacher who came and questioned Gaylen about it. "Gaylen, did you step on the ping-pong ball?" "No." "Gaylen, let me see what you have in your hand." Gaylen opened his hand, saw the smashed ball and exclaimed, "Oh! THAT ping-pong ball!"Gaylen was the only one besides the pastor’s wife who was allowed to address the pastor by his first name.Gaylen was the perfect church member. He was so devoted, however, that he would come to church sick. One time he passed out and we had to have someone from the nursing home come and get him. He was in bed for a week with the flu. They had to use safety devices to keep him in bed long enough to recover. He also listened attentively. On many occasions, when I would go to the nursing home on Sunday afternoon, I would find Gaylen standing in front of his mirror preaching, using the same words, expressions, and inflections that the pastor used that morning. Gaylen had his own "sitting place" at church and woe unto the innocent who sat in his place. One occasion stands out in my mind. A couple (who probably knew better but were displaced when someone sat in their place) sat in Gaylen’s row, at his end of the front pew. When he saw this, he snapped his fingers loudly, pointed at the couple, and motioned them out of his place. Of course, who argues with such authority? They moved.This wonderful fellow always wore his cowboy hat and carried his "banjo" (which was actually a cheap guitar). He would strum and sing songs for the children. It sounded terrible but he was so full of love for everybody that it didn’t seem to matter somehow.Gaylen loved Jesus and knew he would go to Heaven. He loved the moon and talked about visiting it when he went to Heaven. On day at church he kept trying to tell me something. As he was somewhat difficult to understand at times, I didn’t think too much of it. He kept saying he was going to Salida, a neighboring town. Going on outings wasn’t unusual at this particular nursing home so I thought little of it. Later that week I learned that he was being placed in a group home in Salida where he could live a "more independent" life with other developmentally disabled persons. Before a week had passed, my dear Gaylen got to go to be with the Jesus he loved so much.Later, I learned that the people caring for him wondered about the church and school he repeatedly asked to go to, and that they had no idea who "Carl" (the pastor) was that he kept asking for. My heart breaks when I think of that week. I wanted to go see him the very first weekend he was gone but convinced myself I should let him make an adjustment first. Before the next weekend came, he was gone. I know in my heart that he didn’t understand what "going to Salida" meant. I don’t believe he had the capability to understand what "moving to Salida" meant in terms of time. He didn’t know he was going to stay there. I TRULY BELIEVE THAT GAYLEN DIED OF A BROKEN HEART. In my head I know that Down’s Syndrome people reach a peak in their 40’s and then start a decline which ends in total dependency. We know now that it is the same as Alzheimer’s disease and it would have been terrible to see Gaylen go through that. I also know that heart abnormalities are common in people with Down’s Syndrome and that it was a massive heart attack that killed him. But I truly believe that he died of a broken heart because he couldn’t find the church and his beloved friends.It was the sweetest funeral I had ever attended. All the children from the school and Gaylen’s friends from DTS were there. Gaylen is buried where there is no perpetual upkeep but his friends from DTS keep his grave clean and decorated. I was concerned that he would never have a headstone, but someone has made him one out of concrete, a simple one but one made out of love. The important thing is that Gaylen is in Heaven and probably is the moon-keeper or something. I think of him absolutely every time I see the moon, especially a full moon because that’s the one he especially loved.Knowing this man was such a blessing to our church family. Thank you, dear Lord!
The Break-up, a repost
The Break-up
A retired colonel resided on an Alzheimer's unit where I worked. He was early stage and knew something was wrong. He was so kind and courteous to everyone. A real gentleman. One day he asked if he could talk to me. I said yes and we went out into the courtyard. He sat us down in the gazebo and then he took hold of my hand. He started telling me that he knew something was wrong with him and that he had something he needed to take care of before he became unable to do so. We walked around the courtyard holding hands, while he talked softly. I soon realized that he was trying to break up with me! He was so gentle and apologetic and didn't want me to be hurt. I didn't use "reality orientation" with him because it would have embarrassed him beyond belief. I told him that I really respected him and his decision and said it was okay, that we could still be friends. He thanked me and he seemed extremely relieved. We walked a little more but we talked of other things and he never said another word about it. So, was he doing something that he hadn't been able to take care of because of his illness? Or was he reliving something from his past? Regardless, it was one of the strangest and sweetest incidents I had ever experienced working with dementia patients. I later got to share the Gospel with him and he prayed for salvation. (Had to be sneaky because I was on duty at a government facility. Thank God for that gazebo and the Gideon New Testament). He died of heart failure about three weeks later. God spared that good and dignified man the humility of the downward spiral he would soon encounter.
A retired colonel resided on an Alzheimer's unit where I worked. He was early stage and knew something was wrong. He was so kind and courteous to everyone. A real gentleman. One day he asked if he could talk to me. I said yes and we went out into the courtyard. He sat us down in the gazebo and then he took hold of my hand. He started telling me that he knew something was wrong with him and that he had something he needed to take care of before he became unable to do so. We walked around the courtyard holding hands, while he talked softly. I soon realized that he was trying to break up with me! He was so gentle and apologetic and didn't want me to be hurt. I didn't use "reality orientation" with him because it would have embarrassed him beyond belief. I told him that I really respected him and his decision and said it was okay, that we could still be friends. He thanked me and he seemed extremely relieved. We walked a little more but we talked of other things and he never said another word about it. So, was he doing something that he hadn't been able to take care of because of his illness? Or was he reliving something from his past? Regardless, it was one of the strangest and sweetest incidents I had ever experienced working with dementia patients. I later got to share the Gospel with him and he prayed for salvation. (Had to be sneaky because I was on duty at a government facility. Thank God for that gazebo and the Gideon New Testament). He died of heart failure about three weeks later. God spared that good and dignified man the humility of the downward spiral he would soon encounter.
A Duh Moment, a repost
A Duh Moment
When I worked in activities at a veterans' nursing home, there was one black fellow. He was probably in his early 80's and had grown up in the deep south. His "problem" was discussed at a care planning meeting one day. The "problem" was that sometimes he would raise such a ruckus when it was time to get his bath. By the way, this man had Alzheimer's disease and his memories were probably 30 to 40 years in the past. Lowly me, I spoke up and said, "Do you realize what would have happened to him 40 years ago if he had been caught naked in the same room with a white woman?" Duh was the expression on most of the faces, including social workers, R.N.s, etc. So, good idea! The black female nursing assistant and the men were to bathe him from then on. Well, guess what? He never threw another ruckus about it! Isn't it amazing what can happen when one stops to think a little bit.....
When I worked in activities at a veterans' nursing home, there was one black fellow. He was probably in his early 80's and had grown up in the deep south. His "problem" was discussed at a care planning meeting one day. The "problem" was that sometimes he would raise such a ruckus when it was time to get his bath. By the way, this man had Alzheimer's disease and his memories were probably 30 to 40 years in the past. Lowly me, I spoke up and said, "Do you realize what would have happened to him 40 years ago if he had been caught naked in the same room with a white woman?" Duh was the expression on most of the faces, including social workers, R.N.s, etc. So, good idea! The black female nursing assistant and the men were to bathe him from then on. Well, guess what? He never threw another ruckus about it! Isn't it amazing what can happen when one stops to think a little bit.....
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