The Hospital

January 22, 2015 //

When I entered the hospital yesterday, I was fully aware of the memories it held and would bring back. They start 65 years ago when I stood on the street and my mother waved to us from her hospital room window after having my sister. Children weren’t allowed inside back then. My memories with this building flooded my mind all day.

I had a minor surgery here when I was in high school

Two of my children were born here

My daughter had surgery on her shoulder after being hit by a car at college

Seven of my grandchildren were born here

My father and mother were here with various surgeries and tests through the years

My mother died here

My husband had cancer surgery and some chemotherapy here

We’ve had numerous visits to the emergency room with many family members

My son was diagnosed with cancer here and pronounced dead here 10 years later

I had two surgeries here a couple of years ago

The list goes on and on and I can’t even focus on the other friends and family who have been here at various times in their lives

Walking the halls for even a second brings back so many emotions, both good and bad, but all strong, overwhelming even. Yesterday, I went to the surgical waiting room to sit with my daughter while her husband had cancer surgery. Family and friends gathered throughout the grueling day and they were so important to help us through the hours of waiting. The waiting is always the hardest. Sharp contrast to our family waiting for new babies to be born on that happier floor.

The Hospital is an amazing place, where worried families wait and worry and try to understand medical language and diagnoses and friends come to visit hospital rooms to show love and encouragement and support. There are volunteers who compassionately help you through the procedures and to find your way through the winding corridors. The medical staff has always been incredibly wonderful to my family in every conceivable circumstance.

The Hospital is a place of fear, of hope, of excitement, and of healing.

The Hospital is a place where the world outside keeps going while your life stands still.

You wear your best walking shoes just to get wherever you’re going from the parking lot. You try to remember where you parked this day. I’ve stood in the parking lot a few times so exhausted that I could not remember what floor I had left the car on, trying to keep back tears of frustration. My daughter was smart enough yesterday to take a picture of her parking place with her phone so she would remember.

You learn where all the bathrooms, snack machines, and cafeteria are located and how to find the chapel if you need a quiet moment. You become a part of the big machine that is helping your loved one, a part of the process.

And, life outside goes on.

I guess there is a comfort in the familiar, although I am in disbelief when I start to remember so very many visits there. I’m grateful I live a short distance away and have such resources available to my family. I’m grateful for all the wonderful doctors, nurses, and every member of the staff who are so encouraging and make it as easy as they can for patients and families. I’m thankful for the times we live in where medical procedures are advancing forward at such rapid rates and we can benefit by these new discoveries.

I’m thankful for family and friends, who give us hugs and shoulders to lean on and listen to us and bring food and love and care for us.

Life goes on outside, but The Hospital is always there, waiting for us when we need it. I hope you have a place like our hospital when you need it. The Hospital is where I go when my life stops for a moment and then it goes on, changed in a new way each time.

Tags hospital, St John Medical Center Tulsa

Categories Family, Friends, Memories, Reflections

Party on, Garth!

January 14, 2015 //

Last weekend, I checked another event off my bucket list when I finally got to see Garth Brooks in concert. My husband and I had tickets for his last Tulsa concerts 17 years ago, but my husband had cancer surgery and we had to give them away. I’ve watched his televised concerts and listened to stories from friends who ran into him all the time during his semi-retirement about 20 minutes away. Everyone who has ever met him loved him and his gracious nature. There was never a bad story. In fact, everyone who met him was awestruck by how down to earth and polite and fun he was.

At our mutual alma mater, I hear stories about him from staff who have met him on trips to Oklahoma State University, where he has a suite at the football stadium, decorated with his letter jacket from his student athlete days. Garth is definitely a favorite son around here!

I love the fact that all seats were $70, even though there was a frenzy as 7 concerts sold out in a few hours.

I love the fact that he had staff select people in the back seats and surprise them with front row seats before concerts.

I love the fact that his band has been with him anywhere from way back in his college days to 20 years ago. He introduced all of them and they are almost as familiar as he is.

I loved watching him as a fan made his way to the front with a photo of himself with Garth, taken 20 years ago at the Special Olympics in Stillwater. I love that Garth never quit singing as he recognized the photo and had the security guard give it to him. The fan handed over 3 Special Olympic medals to Garth, which he put around his neck, again never stopping the song. Then he put the photo in his mouth while he unstrapped his guitar and handed both to the guard to give the man. Again, he never missed a beat. At the end of the song, I saw him bow his head for a moment, taking in the emotion. It was one of the magical moments you expect, the things that make an entertainer a superstar.

And, above all, Garth Brooks is an entertainer. I have never seen anyone who absolutely soaks up the love from the audience and sends it right back to them the way he does. There is nothing fake about it as you watch him. He absolutely revels in it.

I love his music, his energy, and his devotion to his fans. When the cell phones lit up as he sang “The River,” he asked for more as the arena turned into an ethereal place.

If you get a chance, go see him. Even if you don’t like his music, he’s a phenomenon, a force. And a heck of a lot of fun!

Tags concert, Garth Brooks

Categories Uncategorized

Losing a Child…Year Four

January 10, 2015 //

Once again, the date rolls around, the day I woke up four years ago to find my son had died. I didn’t wake up today and think about the date. I was reminded by a couple of people letting me know they were thinking of my daughter-in-law and me. I just read back over my blogs from this date the last two years to see what I was thinking then and they were good ones. Nothing much has changed.

The difference, I think, is that I have missed him more this year, if that’s possible. I can feel him around me in so many ways, but I found myself missing him. A lot. I had lots of flashes when I’d glance up and see a young man who had some semblance of his face, his walk, his gestures. Then back to reality. Mostly just a deep sadness that he isn’t here.

The anniversary date is never the day that hurts. It’s the every day. It’s a tribute to people who have been deeply loved that they can never never be replaced. It’s the same with my memories of my husband. There may be other friends I love and care for, but that unique person will never die in my heart.

The last couple of days I’ve glanced out my window and a very bright cardinal has appeared. Once he sat and watched me for a long time. It’s been said poetically that a cardinal is a visit from a lost loved one. I don’t know which of my guys it was, but it makes me smile. Nothing more comforting than a bright red cardinal on a gray winter day.

Today, the sun is shining and it’s cold outside. I’m going to make it through another winter when the heavy thoughts hit me into the spring when all our hearts lift with the warmth and rebirth. I’m going to cherish all my living loving children and their spouses and my grandchildren and make beautiful memories that will tide us through the rough patches of life.

And…I’m going to remember with love the wonder of my son and his remarkable life. Damn it all that we lost him to horrible cancer, but loving that he was ours. I miss him…all his girls miss him!

Tags cardinal, Losing a child

Categories Uncategorized

Pity Party

January 7, 2015 //

The first months of the year are the ones that can drag me down. I love winter, but there are some sad memories that cold, dreary days tend to make resurface. A sadness can prevail, if I let it. My friend and I were discussing our pity parties this week. Pity parties are lonely and they tend to lose their grip when shared with a friend. Pity parties are usually the shortest term misery in which we wallow in this life of ours.

In the darkest of days, I’ve never focused very long on “Why Me?” It’s more like “Why Not Me?” I have family and friends and a nice home and resources. When things happen, as they do in life, I should be as equipped to handle them as well as anyone. Or not.

When I worked for the American Red Cross, I learned that every disaster is huge to the person involved, so a single family home fire is as devastating as a tornado that sweeps a city or an earthquake that destroys a region. If you’re the one in it, it couldn’t seem worse.

We all have our own disasters in life, real or emotional, I don’t care how fortunate you are. As you get older, you see the families or individuals you think have the easiest of lives and realize that they are facing challenges and tragedies just like the rest of us. It’s part of life – the good, the bad, and the ugly.

There are always people who have a worse disaster, it seems. I moan about my own loss or problem and then I see someone facing obstacles I can’t even fathom. To keep it all in perspective, I have one story that has stuck in my mind since I first saw the report, years ago. There was a major earthquake in Turkey, I believe, and a woman was sitting on the ground, looking as numb as I can ever imagine being. She had lost 18 members of her family, her home and business. She is my compass point when I feel down. I remember her and wonder what happened next. How did she pick herself up and go on? What thoughts does she fight in her mind? What resources does she draw upon to go from day to day?

I won’t negate the power of depression, the debilitating weight of it. There are ways out of it with help from ourselves, professionals, friends and family. Whatever works for you – do it! And reach out to those you know who might need a friendly hand to lift the weight in their life.

Today, I’m remembering my lady in Turkey, much like the lady in this photo. And finding joy in the world around me, bitter cold and gray as it is. I wonder how she is?

Categories Uncategorized

New Year…

January 1, 2015 //

New Year’s Eve used to mean getting together with friends to toast in the next year together, complete with hats and horns. Those days gave way to staying home with the kids and banging pots and pans while listening to the sounds of the celebrators in the distance. And then it became a day to end the old and bring in the new, whatever it was bringing with it.

I’m trying to remember all my New Year’s Eves, especially the ones that came with promises of lives changed. There was the year right after my father died, helping my mother get through it.

There was the year my husband had cancer. We went to a Bowl Game with the strength he found somewhere and flew home while my mother was having quadruple bypass surgery. That was a year that started off with us knowing there would be changes.

The millennium 2000 celebration was hard because I’d always pictured it coming in while I stood by my husband’s side. Who knew he wouldn’t be there with me?

I don’t know. New Years are always full of hope and promise. This year I’m thinking of turning the calendar differently. We’re all older, which goes without saying. We’re celebrating the fact that we’re here, kind of like we celebrate our birthdays.

This year, I’m going to celebrate that it’s 2015 and not 1915 or 1815 or before. This is a great time to be alive, a time when we have possibilities not even imagined earlier. There are more chances for learning, for exploring, for creating than ever before. If we want to change our lives, there are resources available. If we are sick or injured, there are more medical options than at any time in man’s history. If we want to play, there are more exciting places to do so.

I’m going to take this year to be grateful for all I’ve been able to see and do and all the wonderful people I have met. I don’t know how this year will stack up with the others I’ve known, but it doesn’t matter. It’s all a journey where some years are smooth, some are rough, and some are thankfully boring, but all are steps forward to being who we are.

My husband told me once that we always pray for strength. I was taken with the surety in his voice when he said it, so I’ll follow his words. We pray for the strength to face what the year brings us as we rejoice in the fact that we’re here to face the future. May I see you here next year, facing the next year and then the next and then the next…

Happy New Year!

Tags Happy New Year

Categories Family, Holidays, Reflections

‘Tis the Season

December 27, 2014 //

Looking back over the holiday season, starting with Halloween, it’s been a different one. For sure. Nothing was the way it usually is in my life up until Christmas Day, which was its typical madhouse of family and fun. Thank goodness for that.

Maybe I’m more aware these days, now that I’m not caught up in all the things I did in my past lives, things like racing four children around to Christmas programs and parties, cooking madly every day, sending out Christmas cards, running a retail store during the holidays, preparing for a Christmas fundraiser (several times at various stages of my life), or wrapping a million presents. I still do cook and shop and wrap presents, although I don’t have to run around town or the whole state looking for a rare Star Wars character or a special purse or all the “had to have” gifts for my kids that we had to physically look for in the olden days. I shop both local and online, so I can find what I want pretty quickly, unless I don’t have a clue what to get. Still a problem.

Thanks to Facebook, I traveled the holidays with friends far and near, watching the preparations of the younger families, sharing memories with my older friends, delighting in masses of photos of how the kids and grandkids are growing. It’s a gift that keeps on giving, this sharing of lives. Thanks for Mark Zuckerberg and whoever invented Instagram for that and don’t let me hear your gripes. It is what it is and you don’t have to be a part of it if it’s not your cup of tea.

Mostly, I’m taken with the people I know who have suffered through the holidays, suffered with loneliness, depression, health issues, grief, anger and bitterness, debilitating illness. There are a lot of people battling demons during the season in which we are supposed to be jolly. There were political issues and divides and scary world threats and all kinds of things that should have made the season not so great. No matter how hard we try, we can’t make the world perfect even for a few days to celebrate the rituals of our faith or the beginning of a new year that we hope will be more perfect.

But, we keep trying. I watched as people I love reached for the joy of the season to stave off the realities of the days that will follow, days of realization that a loved one is gone, days of facing new situations in life due to job loss or illness or more days of loneliness ahead. Some are beaten too far down to lift up for the holidays at all. They suffer through, waiting for it to all be over. Our hearts are touched, even in our own days of celebration.

So, we’re mostly past the season of being jolly, just waiting for the end of this year, waiting for the new year that will bring us…well, we really don’t know what it will bring us, do we? So the message is to celebrate each day we are here, celebrate the good things in our lives, reach out to those who need us to be there for them. There are no guarantees in this life and we really have no idea what lies ahead, no matter how much in control we think we are. The best we can do is to love – love life, love nature, love others, love ourselves. The love of this season and every season and every day is the message.

I hope your 2014 was good and that your 2015 is the best!

Tags Facebook, holidays, seasons

Categories Family, Friends, Holidays, Memories, Reflections

Santa years

December 19, 2014 //

There are so many ways to mark the history of a family. Birthdays, holidays, seasons, vacations, school events and every day activities are signs of passing years. Before photography…well, I can’t even imagine what they did. There weren’t that many paintings or drawings per family that I’ve ever seen.

I don’t know when the first pictures with Santa started, but they were probably with department store Santas as a way to get customers in the door. I know there were visits with Santa before that, but the photos were a commercial addition to our holidays. When I was little, we didn’t seem to do it every year. In fact, I only have one. Here is me with my brother and another one of my husband, both photos taken in 1950 when my husband and I were both 5. By the time my children were born, it became an annual event, part of the traditions of the holidays. I took them to shopping centers and later to Santa House, a non-profit fundraiser which I worked on for years. Here is one taken in 1975 with me as the elf, weeks after giving birth to my son. The matching dresses were made by my mother-in-law. Don’t ask my youngest daughter about having to wear those hand-me-downs for years. I was President of the group that year…with four children. To be that young and energetic again…Here they are a few years later, towards the end of our Santa picture years. How in the world did I ever get the four of them that scrubbed up for a picture? So the years went by and those children grew up and started families of their own. Our first three grandsons were born the same year, all within 8 months. This was in 1997… And those little families grew and had Santa pictures of their own…And these children grew older and then their cousin came along…And she is the last of this generation to visit Santa.

We measure our lives in so many ways, counting the years through as many memories as we can. Photos like this are a mirror of the years, the generations, and the commitment to making more memories for those we love. No matter what your beliefs, I’m sure there are special events to record. It’s nice to be able to look back and take it all in, put it in the perspective of Santa visits for this particular memory thread in the ever-weaving pattern of my life.

Cheers to more generations to come, adding their own memories and love.

Tags Santa visits

Categories Family, Holidays, Memories, Photography, Reflections

Skipping…

December 16, 2014 //

As we get older, we forget about skipping. My youngest granddaughter has learned how and tends to skip rather than run these days. At five, it’s a relief to her much slower grandmother because she doesn’t get so far away from me. I still tend to be behind her, watching her move. Here’s her ballet class, skipping across the room. I’m not sure little boys skip, but little girls sure do. There’s something so fun about it. Also, I hear her humming while she skips. A friend told me I hum when I’m happy, although I’m not aware of it.

A friend of mine married late and has younger children than most people his age. He was in his 50s when his daughter was about 7 or 8. One day he stopped by my house to help with something and brought his daughter. I looked out the window and saw him skipping with his little girl. I never said anything to him but I think I told his wife. It was so very precious and I hope his daughter remembers that moment forever.

There’s a new movement to add skipping to exercise programs. Why not? It certainly gets the old body moving and lifting off the ground and the heart pumping. There’s a youthfulness to the movement, described by one on-line dictionary as a hippity-hopping movement. Cute.

Just think back to a time in your life when you skipped. It had to be a happy memory, didn’t it? I can’t imagine anyone skipping sadly. And you do tend to want to hum something catchy.

Skipping through life doesn’t sound bad at all. I’m going to try it while I still can!

Tags Skipping

Categories Reflections

Return to the Library

December 12, 2014 //

I had some time to kill at Oklahoma State University yesterday and there was a subject I wanted to research, one that OSU has in their archives. I’d walked past the library earlier in the day, always a beautiful sight, admiring the Christmas wreath and garlands. I’d been actually dreading going into this beautiful building because I have such warm memories of spending hours with the card catalogue, digging through shelves of periodicals for an article I needed for a research paper, copying notes onto index cards. There were no copy machines or computers in those days. You either checked out the book or did the research on site. There was comfort in the shelves of books and periodicals, the dark wood tables and chairs. I grew to love the search and the activity it took to find the information I needed to support my thoughts.

I knew it would be different – I’ve been in local libraries after all. I understand the computers and having everything online and that the experience has changed. I’m not against it, but I wasn’t quite ready to really see it in person in this building.

Approaching the building, the incredible chimes were playing the OSU alma mater, which was comforting. I walked in the front doors… …loving the brass doors. I went through the security scanners and up the stairs with the beautiful brass handrails. Reaching the next floor was like coming into a new century, to say the least. There were tables and chairs and couches and lots of students with laptops. I didn’t see any books at all. There were some offices and a wonderful room decorated old style where students lounged and studied for finals.

I wandered around, wondering how you find anything and went back down the stairs to the lower level where there was an information desk and lots of tables with computers. There was a space in the back of one corner where there were shelves of periodicals. Yay! Something familiar. I realized I was supposed to find a computer, but wasn’t really sure about how this worked, so I approached the desk.

Me: “Hi. I haven’t been here since 1969.”

Student: “Well, welcome back!”

She was great, turning her computer to show me the website. I told her I had a log-in and could take it from there, so I found an empty computer and logged in. I maneuvered around and found the information I was looking for, which I also accessed from home. I was looking for more, but there it was.

I finished up and left. What can you say? I hadn’t wandered down a row of shelves or handled a book. That was weird, at least for me. It’s the library and I’m happy that students are in there, soaking up the information. As I walked away, the chimes were playing “Frosty the Snowman,” which rang across campus and I passed three girls smiling with their arms around each other, singing to the music. Their finals were over and they were probably heading home for the holidays.

It’s all good. We’re moving ahead in our technical world. But my memories of those long ago days in the quiet rooms of dark wood and shelves of books is still sweet. Sigh.

Tags Oklahoma State University library

Categories Books, Memories, Places, Reflections, Uncategorized

In the Name of God

December 7, 2014 //

I do believe in God.

What I don’t believe is that there is a God in human form watching us in order to decide whose side He/She is on. That’s a bit hard to reconcile with a God that is loving, at least for me. To me, we all want to complicate it.

The worst things ever done by man/woman to the each other, to other living things, to the planet are often done in the name of God. I cannot believe that God, whatever name you use, is on any side in wars, causes diseases, wins sporting games, blesses or damns any individual among us for being gay, or of any race or religious preference.

From what I’ve read, most religions share some common beliefs, usually along the lines of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you, in various languages and traditions. Most people want the same things for their country, for their families.

We are our own worst enemies, all of us. We, and I use that term to cover all humans, use the Bible, or whatever your religion uses, to justify all the worst fears, all the worst feelings we’re capable of having.

During this season of celebration for many religions, let’s remember the basics, the words that teach us to love one another. In the beginning, there was…something. And the beauty is all around us.

Peace and Love to all.

Tags God, religion

Categories Reflections, Uncategorized

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