Memorial Day 2012

Honoring those who served, telling the stories of their
lives and sacrifice, planting the seeds of gratitude in
hearts yet too young to understand their meaning.
Praying for families who's loved ones still serve.

Our Ancestors were "Mom Enough"

In the very unlikely event that you missed the Time magazine cover with the title, "Are You Mom Enough?" I'll just ask you to google it.  The link to the cover itself, will be at the top, followed by Lord knows how many pages of commentary about the controversy it stirred.

Never one to miss a party, I'll throw my comments into the pot, for your stirring pleasure!

I nursed my kids for 3.5 years each. That's right. Well past the "asking for it" stage.

Our pediatrician told me to start on cow milk at 1 year, and it made my baby get hives all over his face and tummy, (anywhere the cow milk had touched his skin), and I was terrified of what it was doing to his insides! We wouldn't be trying that again!

  I learned about extended nursing, which I now call "full term nursing" online from a breastfeeding support board, and found Katherine Dettwyler's study, The Natural Age of Weaning.

That study convinced me that it was not only "okay" to nurse a long time, but that it was the more natural thing to do.

Both my kids have tested "gifted" so I guess  the "promotes brain development" thing, worked out well.  Wait. Doesn't that actually mean,  instead of my kids being "special" that if all kids were being breast fed full term (years) that all kids might be that smart? Perhaps all kids are "gifted" and society just got brainwashed into thinking they didn't need that gift, and formula was fine.

 Furthermore, I can attest to the fact, that breastfeeding continued to support their immunity, because both my kids get over any bug faster than anyone else I know.

Once, when my son was 3 years old, there was a particularly nasty virus going around, that was putting quite a few kids in the hospital with dehydration. My poor baby spiked a scarily high fever, and began throwing up repeatedly for hours. I called the after hours emergency number that our pediatrician used.

The nurse told me not to let him have anything by mouth, not even water, until we could get the vomiting stopped. When I asked if he could still nurse, she was delighted!

She said that breast milk was actually easier to digest than water, and it was the very best thing for him. He kept the breast milk down and did not have to go to the hospital. In fact, he got over it faster than most.

It's also really cool that both my kids remember nursing, because now they talk about the day when their children will get to nurse. This is exactly the way it should be. Breasts, to them, are about nurturing a baby. They won't escape the media, so they'll learn otherwise, but nothing can take this early association away from them.

I think another reason I was so easily convinced to nurse full term, is that when I was in the 5th grade, I attended a wonderful Montessori school. My Spanish teacher nursed her 2.5 year old in class, while she was teaching.  I'd never seen nursing before, so of course I was curious.

She answered my questions in a matter-of-fact way and everyone there treated it as completely normal. This exposure was one of the few times I ever saw nursing, yet it profoundly influenced my parenting choices, some 30 years later.

I think people's discomfort in seeing a child breastfeeding, stems from the fact, that in this society, breast have only been seen in the context of sexualized ads or porn. Then, when they see something as pure and innocent as a child, placed into that perceived "sexual" context, they feel repulsed, and alarmed.

They mistakenly believe that the nursing is perverted, when in fact, it is their own associations and feelings that have been perverted, by a culture that has only recently, (in terms of human history), abandoned the natural method of nourishing and nurturing their young.

Gifts from the Heart

Mother's Day!

My first gift for Mother's Day, was being allowed
to sleep in.

 Then my husband made a lovely breakfast, while my
daughter presented me with all the lovely cards and
 pictures she had made for me, both in school, and at
home. She's a crafty girl!

Later, my son woke up and informed me, that my gift
from him, was his promise to try and not argue with
his sister for one week. (Hey, at least he thought of
something!)

"Not, for the rest of your life?", I asked.
"Don't push it, Mom.", he said.

Happy Mother's Day!

My Step Dad Super Hero

This is my Step Dad.

He has always been such an awesome
Grandfather to my children. He shows up for them, emotionally
in ways my own father wasn't able to, for a long time,
because of living so far away.

My Step Dad and my Mom hadn't been married long, when
he offered to let my husband and I, move in with them, so
I could stay off my feet for the last three months of my
pregnancy. I'd had multiple miscarriages by that time,
and the doctor wanted me on bed rest. We had a son,
and he had his first Grandson.

The arrangement was supposed to be temporary, but it
turned out that we all got along really well together. So,
we all decided to just kept living together, nearly four
more years, until I got pregnant with my daughter.

Then, he let my Mom and I pick out a new, bigger house,
while he was away working on a contract job, out of
state!    Yeah. He's a freakin' Saint!

I'm an artist, but I've never had a dedicated painting
studio of my own.  (Picture just getting going on a
project, then having to clean up quick, because the
family has to eat dinner at this table in 10 minutes.)

Just last month, my Super Hero Step Dad, had a
man come install glass across our back porch, and a
sliding glass door, to make the dream of having my
own art studio, a reality for me.

Then he went out there for days on a ladder, smoothing
 out the ceiling texture, and painting the walls and trim.
Then he painted the trim on the whole house and the
front door, as well!     Yeah. He's a keeper!

He's also five years past his prostate cancer treatment,
with a clean bill of health, and remains active in support
groups for survivors.

I'm super proud of him as well, for losing an incredible
35 pounds in only 3 months! He drank Boresha fat burning coffee
each  morning, which gave him lots of energy to go out walking,
 morning, go off to work, and then walk again in the  evening,
sometimes four and a half miles per day!

Here's his Before & After shots.

Swimming in Pudding

My Dad passed away on March 8th. We had the miracle of getting to be with him for 7 months, instead of the 3 months the doctors had predicted. There was time to say the things that needed saying to all his living brothers and sisters, grandkids, nieces, nephews, cousins, students and friends.

There was one last good Christmas together. Even in December he was healthy enough to still be walking 3 miles a day. He was making plans to go on a trip in March, but sadly, he took a turn for the worse after Christmas.

Thanks to his dear brother, wonderful wife, friends, and hospice nurses, he was able to be at home most of that time. In his last week, he had to be transferred to the VA Hospice wing. They took wonderful care of him there, and he had family and friends around him every day.

Two of his sisters and his wife, were with him praying over him, when he took his last breath and went out of this world to meet his Savior.

Since then, I have cried so many times. I've also thrown myself into massive home improvement projects. Clearly I am out of my mind to tackle such a thing at this time, but there you go. Everyone grieves in their own way. I renovate.

Honestly, it feels like self care. I have been raising kids and taking care of my aunt, and then my Dad during his illness, and I'm worn out. But these are things that I've put off for so long, because there's never enough time and every other need always trumps my needs. Right now, I'm just saying yes to all those projects I put on the back burner for so many years.

I'm sure I'm pushing my feelings aside some as I do this, but not altogether. I cry in small doses, because I couldn't handle more than that at a time. I'm doing this so I don't get depressed. When I see the improvements, it lifts my spirits, and gives me hope for a new life. I need that, because picturing a life without my Dad seems impossible right now. Yet, here it is, another day that calls to me to live it fully, and without regrets.

Dad's untimely death from brain cancer, gave me the message loud and clear. "Death will come. You do not have forever to put things off! Do what you must do, now! Cast off the frivolous and mundane! There's no time for that!"

So, the whole house is getting an overhaul. I'm finally getting that painting studio I've always wanted. We put a wall of glass across the back porch. I can go paint anytime I get the urge, and I don't have to clean it up, if I'm not done yet.

I got a new bed. (We spend a lot of life on our beds.) I'm cleaning and throwing out loads of junk. I refuse to be buried under the weight of stuff I don't have time to deal with, nor do I want to burden some other poor soul with throwing out my junk after I die.

My father, (bless him), knew how to cast off the superfluous, each day. So, I have next to nothing of stuff, that he hadn't already offered to me as gifts. I treasure his paintings the most. They hang all over my house. I already had his medals, (a silver star and purple heart), because he thought my son might want them one day.

Today, I was feeling particularly down. I was making my bed, and every movement took so much effort, it felt like I was swimming through pudding. I thought, "The world keeps moving at it's normal speed, but I'm stuck in slow motion." I know it's grief and that it takes time, but it's lonely.

Just then, a woman called, whom I've never met, but is distantly related to me through my great aunt. Her name is Susan Lana Hafner. She was letting me know that my aunt had made a donation in my father's name to send a prayer pillow to a soldier. They are prayed over, like prayer cloths and are intended to be used for private prayer time with God.

She also told me that she and her husband wanted to send each of my children a prayer pillow in their grandfather's memory. I was so touched! I'd never even spoken to this woman before, but I ended up bawling like a baby and telling her all about my Dad. She was so kind, and her timing was so perfect. It felt like God was telling me that He knows what I'm going through, and didn't want me to feel lonely.

This is their website: http://www.onetouchawakening.org/susan_lana.html

I feel lighter now, at least lighter that when I was barely keeping my head above pudding.

What a Roller Coaster! Wheeeeee!

Yesterday, I had this gut wrenching experience with my father at death's door, (see previous post). Definitely a low point.

Then today, I go over to his house, walk into the front room, and he's sitting up, speaking with a very strong voice, and gesturing, while participating in an online study group. I look down and see that his feet and ankles, which have been elephant sized for the past couple of months, (a crippling side effect of the steroids they give him to keep the tumor in check), are now skinny!

He hasn't been able to wear shoes, or even walk for more than a numb shuffle about the house, for ages. But now, his shoes are actually loose on his feet! He felt so good, he came out to lunch with us, leaving his wheelchair and walker behind, using only a cane.

While we sat eating, he actually started talking about ideas and dreams that he and his wife had, before he got sick. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up too high, but there's no denying a marked and rapid improvement in his condition and demeanor.

What or Whom do we have to thank for this miracle? I'm going to play it safe, and thank God!

His sister, who just came into town, is an Episcopal chaplain, and carries holy oil. She had blessed him with it last night, and prayed for his healing.

He's also taking at least two supplements, that are supposed to be mighty good stuff for immune function. The doctors are tweaking his medications, lowering the steroid dose, adding lasix. And then there are the dreams. He dreamed he died and was saying goodbye to us all. Then he woke up, and wondered what it meant, if perhaps he was "done dying now".

I certainly hope so.

What If This Was Your Last Goodbye?

Seriously. What would you say to someone you love?

Well, that you love them, of course. But, sometimes there are other important things that need saying.

My father has a brain tumor. He's been in various stages of getting ill and getting better. But this week was really difficult. He became convinced that he'd be leaving us soon. So, he called his brothers and sisters, and me, (his only child), to try to "get complete".

I don't have to tell you what a hard phone call that was! And, of course, I went over there as fast as I could. Because, whether or not his hunch is accurate, he was experiencing this, as if it were true, and that's big stuff. We cried with each other, talked a while, and hugged. But I left there feeling incomplete.

We are a pretty expressive family. So, I don't think anyone ever, truly, walks around feeling unloved. But somehow, when faced with the possibility of not getting another chance, to say what needs said, I found myself in some serious turmoil about it. I lost lots of sleep over it.

Then today, it was planned, that my step mom and I, (who share October birthdays), had a joint birthday celebration at their house. We planned it to coincide with a visit from two of my Dad's sisters.

My Step-mom cooked lunch, and my Mom bought us both cakes (Yeah, we all get along great.), and I had done all the gift shopping. I know my Step-mom's tastes fairly well, and made choices I thought my Dad would have made for her. He seemed pleased with the choices yesterday, but today he seemed to have forgotten that he'd ever seen them before. He still liked them.

It was a great party. Dad held up great. He enjoyed it more than he thought he would, and said he could even taste the food. Yay!

When I was going to say goodbye, he got teary again, and told me that he couldn't have asked for a better daughter, and that he was proud of me, and what a great job I'd done of parenting my kids.

He tried to say it was all my Mom's credit, that I learned it all from her. But I told him, no, that I had learned a whole lot from him. Just being the kind of person that he is, was such an incredible example to follow, because he was so noble. His honesty, and integrity where always so evident, in all his interactions with others. Even when he made mistakes, it was so clear, that he was trying very hard to do the right thing.

I told him that his being that kind of person, made navigating my life a lot easier. Because, it made bad choices unthinkable, and made my mistakes easier to admit. My Dad was always a really good man.

Even now, as he faces the possibility of death, he does it so unselfishly. He's trying so hard to learn whatever lessons are to be learned from it, and to do whatever he can for all those around him.

It was a very good, and tearful conversation. He said he would sleep well tonight, because of what I had told him. (I was crying pretty hard at this point.) Then, there was the chaos of my kids, my Mom, my husband, my aunts, all hugging and gathering all our stuff, and putting it in the car to leave.

It was hard to say goodbye. But as I was leaving, I realized that I really did feel complete. I guess we figured it out, (at least for the two of us), what needed to be said.

I don't want that to be my last goodbye. But, if it is, it was a really good one.