Ashes to Ashes

The research hospital called to say that they were done
 with my father's body, and his ashes were ready
for us to pick up. I was surprised it was so quick,
 (only 2 months), because they had said it could be
 up to 18 months. My step Mom picked them up
 and I got them from her yesterday.

She said the lady there told her that my Dad's body
 was used in research, not an actual transplant,
but study about face transplantation.

I recalled in the news recently, there had been a story
about a man who had been electrocuted and had lost
his face to burns. He had a face transplant, (one of the
first successful ones), and was then able to feel his
daughter kiss him on the cheek.

When I first heard about it on the news, I had thought
the idea "creepy", but when I heard the part about the
kiss, my heart melted. Then it sounded more like a "miracle."

 I remember so clearly how it felt to kiss my Dad's cheek...

Tears still come so easily....

He was in the VA Hospice. We kept him home as long as
possible, but finally he needed round the clock nursing.

We had been making sure someone from our family was
with him round the clock, except in the deep night. His
bed was on an alarm, so a nurse would come to his side if
needed it.

Even my Mom, (his ex-wife) was part of the team,
because they had always remained friends, even after they
divorced, when I was 10 years old.

They met teaching Bible school, their mutual
love of God, and me (their only daughter), and their
deep respect for each other, kept them from ever becoming
petty, or hateful toward each other.

This last day, I had been supposed to stay home, because his
two sisters were in town, giving us a break. But that day, I
couldn't stay away. I felt a really strong pull to be at his side,
so I grabbed some food to eat on the road, and went to him.

Since I told them I was coming, his sisters and my step-mom,
decided to go out to lunch together. So, when I arrived, we
were alone,  just the two of us, next to his sunny window.

He was already non-communicative, but the nurses told us
that he may still be able to understand us. So, we kept talking
to him. His eyes shut, the only sound he made was raspy,
heavy breathing.

I told him what was going on with the kids, and then
for some reason, (probably because we were alone),
I sang out loud, the song that popped into my head.

"You take the high road,
and I'll take the low road,
and I'll be in Scotland before you.
For I and my true love
will never meet again,
on the bonnie, bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond."

(Later, that song would prove prophetic, since I did not
ever see him again.)

I noticed that shiny grey stubble had grown out on his chin,
so I got out the razor and cream, and shaved him, telling
him I was making his face smooth for when his wife
would be back soon to give him a kiss.
When I was done, I kissed him, and pronounced it smooth.

Later, when they were back, I kissed him again.
My last kiss, my last contact, that I will never forget.

When I learned about the research they did, I thought of
that kiss, and how I made his cheeks smooth, and of the
other kiss, that the other father was now able to feel. It all
feels so meant-to-be.

 It's, just another wonderful way
that he was heroic, and a blessing to his fellow man,
even after his death, but in such a personal way, that
really has meaning for me.

I will keep his ashes until we can go to the Veteran's Memorial
for internment. He was a hero, not just to me, but during the
Vietnam war. I have his silver star and purple heart, and the
flag they gave my Step Mom at the hospital after they took
his body away.

Those things will have sentimental value, but it's the kiss
that lives in my heart, that really means the most.

Willed Body Donation

Sent to UT Southwestern Medical Center
Willed Body Donation Dept.
For my Dad

THE GIFT

Handle With Care!

This is the body 

that shielded

wounded soldiers

under fire.

These are the arms

that carried them 

through the jungle,

to safety.

These very arms 

held me warmly,

when I cried,

and worked to provide

food and shelter.

These are  hands 

that carved sculptures,
 painted

beautiful landscapes

and portraits.

These are the feet

I stood upon,

that taught me

how to dance.

This is the back 

I slept against,

in safety

from the storms.

These are the lips

that kissed my cheek,

sang songs,

and told  stories.

This is the heart

that beat for us,

with steady,

unwavering love.

These are the eyes

that saw the world

as it really was,

but reflected back

what it could be.

These are the eyes

that saw injustice,

and the mouth 

that spoke out

against it.

This is the head

that thought things through,

and guided so many

with wisdom.

This is the cancer

that took him from us.

Hate it

as we do,

and let that passion

fuel your work. 

Here is the body

he decided to donate

some thirty years ago,

and now we also

let go.

Draw knowledge from it.

Teach with it,

Gain skill from it.

But above all,

Respect it.

Make this gift

worth all that we still suffer

from the loss

of his warmth

in this world.

Peace for Everyone

It's a day past Memorial Day, but I just read something that has a lot of meaning for me, regarding war, and veterans.

My father was a veteran of Korea and Vietnam. He was awarded a silver star and a purple heart, and medical disability retirement after being wounded in Vietnam in 1965.

I'll tell more about that later, in another post, but for now, I will just say, that he worked for Peace for the entire rest of his life.

Robert Perry became one of his close friends, and it is his blog that I now refer you to. I think the idea expressed there, is one my father would like to have shared.

A Future Without War

http://www.semeionpress.com/signs/SignPosts/?p=683

Also want to add this wonderful TED talk:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04SEzifEsGg&feature=youtu.be

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.