WHO'S the BOSS? (reminder #3)

I’m struggling to come to terms with some hard facts of life this week: 

1.  I can’t bar disappointment or suffering from visiting my loved ones. 

2.  I can’t face people’s demons for them, as much as I want to. 

3.  I can’t implant solutions into a problem when the problem is not mine to solve. 

4.  I can’t take a burden that is not assigned to me. 

5.  I can’t halt the aging process.

The bottom line - I cannot ensure anyone’s happiness or peace of mind. 

This is a painful reality to accept.  For years, as a parent, keeping a child safe and relatively happy is doable.  When kids are young, so much is in our control.  Once they are of age and interacting with the world on their own, we can only watch.

And help, if asked. 

At the other end, our own parents are capable and independent, and we don’t spend any time thinking that there will come a time when they will not be.

When that time comes, it’s surreal, because it’s never been like this before.  They resist help, and we don’t know what to do.

We realize they are people, and not simply our parents, and we have to carve out a new relationship of sorts.  Mainly, we just watch.

And help, if asked. 

Watching loved ones, young and seasoned, face challenges is difficult.

Which drives me to God, because I don’t know what else to do.

I would like to hop into the head of loved ones and rearrange the furniture, but God didn’t create that option.  So I just pray that I can be loving and wise, if I’m asked to help, which I’m not always. 

So while God works things out, I wait (impatiently) and watch (with ideas spinning around).  And try not to get in the way - which (surprise, surprise) is a challenge for me.

I tend to think I know what loved ones should do, but then God reminds me of number 3 above.  And I have to shut up.

I’m not very good at this, but I’m always working on it.   I suspect I’ll be working on it until I draw my last breath.

So, today, I’m reminding myself (again) that God is in charge.

He alone knows the hearts of my loved ones.

He alone can guide them and bring them peace of mind.

He doesn't need my help. 

I don’t know why it’s so easy to forget this.

SECONDARY WINS

I received something from Dr. Oz recently.   Here it is, exactly how it arrived in the mail....

I was one of the first 1,000 entries received.   Which is pretty amazing, considering Dr. Oz has a gazillion viewers.  

The first 1,000 entries got a sixty-day supply of fast absorption, omega-3 krill oil for cardiovascular health that contains powerful antioxidants and no fishy odor.  Or, so I read.

I need fish oil, because, despite having given up tasty animal fat, I still have cholesterol issues.  That got me thinking....

I've not won many things in my life - and never first place - but the few prizes that have come my way have actually been beneficial, or just been divinely timed.  

My first "win" was in eighth grade.  I was one of fifty runners-up in a radio station poetry contest.  I won a six-pack of 7-Up.   My poem started like this.

Life is a field of flowers...

I don't remember the rest of it.  It was flaky, I'm sure.  It was the 70's.

As a rule, I don't appreciate poetry (except for Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss), so why I was motivated to enter this contest, I don't know.  

But, being one in fifty to "win" was a real boost to my gawky, young self.  I began to write other things, and in ninth grade, my English teacher took me aside and told me I was a good writer.  She urged me to stick with it.  

As an adult, writing spawned a career for me in non-profit work that lasted twelve years.  It's also granted me a few honorable mentions in Florida State competitions.  To this day, when I get writer's block, I look at a few dingy awards in my scrapbook and say to myself, "I know I can, I know I can."

My next (second-place) win, probably fifteen years later, was a quilt.  A woman's group I belonged to had a raffle, and I had a lucky ticket.  I was excited to receive a hand-made quilt, but found the colors a bit loud for my eyeballs.  

I "gifted" the quilt to my sister-in-law.  She must have found it loud too, because it's hanging in her basement, which she calls "the dungeon." 

Don't you just want to put on sunglasses?  

Anyhoo...it was this blanket that originally piqued my interest in quilting.  (I would make a normal quilt.) 

A decade later, I took a quilting class and sewed my little heart out for several years.  That hobby took my mind off missing my daughter, who had just left for college, and provided many gifts for loved ones. (I suppose it's possible some of those quilts are hanging in their basements.) 

Two years ago, I won $1,000 in a church raffle (first place was $5,000.)  That was a thrill.  My husband and I had participated in this particular raffle for seventeen years, accumulating an output of $425.  Subtracting our long-term investment, the prize was $575. 

That win was a timely blessing, because our son was getting married in four months.  That money covered the macaroni & cheese, Caesar salad, and dessert tarts at the rehearsal dinner. 

Even though I've never hit a home run, these non-first prizes have very much enriched my life.  They've encouraged me to hone some strengths, discover some new ones, boost my health, and enabled us to celebrate more freely. 

I've often thought how awesome it would be to win the Florida lottery.  We buy tickets when the cookie jar gets up past 10 million.  

I've repeatedly assured God I would be a trustworthy steward of such a gift.  I would share with family members and donate to charity.  I would be very generous after I paid off my mortgage, student loan, and Visa card. 

I've never won the lottery, so I guess God sees it differently.  Maybe He suspects that with 10 million, I'd turn into a crazy person.  

He's smarter than me, so He might be right. 

For now, it's fish oil.  Which is OK, because I need it.

So, I've decided you don't have to hit a home run to win. 

HOSPITAL RERUN (#3)

Another four-day stint in the hospital this week. 

On Saturday, Dad woke up feeling weak, had some chest pain, and his blood pressure was high.  Even after his morning meds, the pressure remained high.

The EMTs took him to the ER, where his blood pressure stabilized shortly thereafter.  The chest pain did not return, but Dad just didn't feel well.

So he received a plastic bracelet, a backless gown, and a pair of fuzzy, non-slip socks.  And some nurses to dote on him for a few days.

Luckily, all tests were normal, and after four days, Dad was released with two medication adjustments.

Here he is, back at the ranch, with his bride of 61 years.

Hospital stays wear him out, because he doesn't sleep well there, and the muscles become lazy, so he came home in a four-wheeled chariot.   

He's not up to mowing the back 40, but with PT should return to his bingo activities soon.

He departed for the hospital on Mom's 91st birthday.  "Happy birthday, Janey," he said as they rolled him away.

Mom got along fine on her own and enjoyed watching her roses from Dad open while he was gone.

She is doing well working that unhumorous humerus in OT, and is now using her walker to get to the dining room. 

That's a good thing, because with two wheelchairs and two walkers in the room, we have traffic jams now and then. 

I'm going to give them both a buck and a smooch if we can get through July with no more mishaps.