Forcing myself to write


I don’t mean that to sound like a chore but it’s what I am doing right now.  I have come to realize that this blog has become a diary of sorts, and that if I don’t write things down I will forget. Not I might or I could but I will forget, and perhaps (just perhaps) that is one of the reasons why certain things in my life seem to be set on “repeat.”  That and the fact that growth, which seems almost nonexistent at times, does actually occur and reading past posts helps me realize that.  I suppose it’s kind of like the rings on a tree, with each one marking a moment in time.  Here’s hoping I’m not just expanding but growing upward as well, lol.

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks.  I have had to fight the urge to keep checking with my brother to see how dad is doing.  He hasn’t called and as much as I want to I don’t feel I am supposed to.  The day after my last post I went down and drove him around to take care of banking and other business.  I also bought him a phone.  I’m trying not to be a “fixer” so I’m sitting on my hands, so to speak, and trying to let this work itself out.  The last conversation I had with my brother raised concerns about dad’s ability to live by himself.  I can’t let my mind go the places it has in the past, and this is another lesson I’m needing to learn (again).  Let go, Patti.  Let it go….

I did get down to the shore with my friend Mary (who is writing a book).  We spent the four days working either on that or on necklaces to give to the women coming to a conference next week, so we didn’t even see the ocean.  Aside from one trip out to Staples (to print things) and Starbucks, we were at the trailer working.  Our last night there a storm blew through and it was a wild night.  Along with the right-outside-the-door lightning cracks it dumped three inches of rain.  Rain on a trailer roof is quite loud and I barely slept.  It came as no surprise then (well actually it did, lol) when an employee of the campground banged on the door at eighty-thirty and told us we had to go, the roads were flooding.  And now Matthew is lashing Florida and the south.  I’m praying for a friend in Orlando and hoping for an update soon.

Yesterday I met a friend at Global for worship and then tea afterward.  First-year students are away so it was just second years.  Worship was awesome but I found out afterward that you can’t just show up for that anymore, you have to let them know ahead of time and it counts as one of your visits (past students get ten a year).  There must have been a problem and so this was the solution, but it made me sad.  I don’t attend a church that has that kind of freedom to worship, so it was always refreshing and a great way to start my day!  I suppose it’s time though.  Funny how it still stings….

In other news my guitar skills are improving, which is happy.  I’m having a good time with my friend Kat practicing for our “Campfire Christmas” at two nursing homes (and perhaps more).  She’s actually coming over today and we’ll probably slip over to Perry Village and visit a few residents including one dear lady who was pretty sick.  Flu season has started, and it can be deadly to old folks :(.  I was visiting last weekend when one of the residents flew into a rage at another and walked over and put a stop to it, binding the spirit of anger in Jesus’ name!  The resident stopped and looked at me, his demeanor changed, and said, “Okay.”

I saw a recent article about how nursing homes in Pennsylvania are going to be held to much higher standards and all I can say is it’s about time.   It’s kind of like schools with a teacher-to-student ratio being too high.  Seniors in nursing homes need a lot of care, just like children, except their messes are much bigger and I think it takes much more patience and compassion.  It’s heartbreaking to watch at times, but I know the employees are doing the best they can.  I imagine it’s like that at most nursing homes.  Lately I’ve been considering becoming a CNA and actually working there, but I know I’m to keep my schedule open and that would certainly tie me down.  It’s just that I’m not allowed to help when they ask for it, and that’s hard.  I suppose it’s for my safety as well as theirs, and I do little things when I can, but rules are rules.

Oh!  I almost forgot.  A couple of days ago my son and his family went for a hike.  Kevin went along and at one point they were at a pond and the boys started skipping stones.  Kevin and Mary walked up a trail a bit and turned and looked up at at the exact same moment to see something orange in the water kind of bobbing up and down.  It hit them both at the same time and they yelled, “Shea!”  He had somehow gotten behind his father and slipped or walked into the water and there was a drop-off.  There was no splash or sound, no warning, he was just there, ten feet out, bobbing (though his head didn’t come above the water) and barely visible except for the splotch of orange.  Ty turned and didn’t hesitate.  Taking a couple huge steps he grabbed him and pulled Sheamus to safety.  He’d held his breath (thank you, Jesus) and didn’t cry, though he was shaken (they all were).  He wanted grandpa to carry him and he did, covering him with a blanket as they walked back to the car.

Just a couple of weeks ago a young boy Shea’s age drowned.  Now I can see how easily it can happen.  I am grateful to the wise aunt who buys the boys matching fluorescent orange shirts, because if he had been in something dark they wouldn’t have seen him.  Life can change so quickly and I shudder to think what our lives would look like today if Sheamus had drowned.  Lord help that family and comfort them as only You can!  And thank you for sparing my little grandson’s life and for sparing us as well.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s