Six Months

 
 It's going on six months. Six months ago yesterday evening I lost my older brother. Six months ago tomorrow morning, my sister and I sang "Softly and Tenderly (Jesus is Calling) to my Dad, and ten minutes later he went to be with Jesus. It still hurts me to the point of tears whenever I think about how that all  came about. My brother had been on dialysis for months, had known two Christmases ago that he was going to need a kidney transplant to survive. He probably also knew that his time was ticking away and that he was not going to get on "The List" in time. He was getting weaker and weaker. He was angry with the specialist because he rescheduled his appointment, at least once, if not twice. (That part is kind of fuzzy in my mind.) And who could blame him for that?
   Dad was fine, as far as we knew, this time last year. We had gone down to celebrate my sister's August Birthday while my niece was home from Ireland. The day after that celebration, something wasn't right with Dad. That something wound up being diagnosed as cancer. Still, we hoped that it was treatable/curable.
Things went along in due course. He came through the surgery in January just fine. But something went terribly wrong during the course of his recovery. And, it's still a mystery to me, but both Larry and Dad wound up going to two separate hospitals on the same day, January 28, both via ambulance. And they both died within two days of each other, less than a week later. The rest of our family, my two younger brothers, my sister, my mom, and all of those whom belonged to each of us, were left reeling. My poor mom, they had been married 56 years. It would be like tearing half of your heart out and burying it in the grave. How do you "move on" after that? People expect you to, so you put on a brave front. But when nobody is there, you cry. You cry a lot.
   I am not ashamed that I still cry about this at least once a week. If I stop being "busy", I think about it. In unguarded moments, even sometimes with people all around, it just hits me. When I think about when we all first walked into that funeral parlor and were confronted with twin caskets, the shock of that...then the emotions take over.
   I know they are in a better place. There is a degree of peace that comes from that. Larry doesn't suffer anymore. Dad doesn't suffer any more. And there are people who have it a lot worse than we do. I think of the Ginthers, who lost three sons in one car accident. I think of the pastor of that church who lost his whole family, his wife and all of his kids in a senseless car accident.One of my Aunts lost her husband one year and then two daughters within five months of each other the next year. I guess we all have to deal with our own pain in life. And people would remind me that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, which I don't know if that is exactly true, because sometimes I feel like this is all making me a little crazy. Somehow, we have to hang on and learn whatever it is that we have to learn by going through this stuff. Maybe it is just so that we can comfort others when they are going through it. We know what others say and do that helps prop us up, so we can maybe help others.
    But maybe this is all just part of human existence. Maybe there are no lessons. Maybe we just go through this because the longer we live, the more likely we are to experience the pain of loved ones passing, one by one or in multiples (and God please forbid that we should lose multiples again). Maybe we are made more human because we have to face our own frailty. We have to admit that we can't control these things. I do have to think that if I was God, which I never will be, of course, I wouldn't have let this happen this way. I can't find the sense in it. Some of my friends don't believe that there even is a God, and I don't know how they deal with these times in their lives. But for me, I have decided that God is still mysterious. I haven't got Him all figured out. To me, He is in control and I am not. So, even though it doesn't make sense to me how or why these things happen, I am going to go on with life. I am hoping that some day I will have worked through all of this. But even if I never do, I know in my heart that God does not hold it against me that I am struggling with all of this right now. That is all.

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Moving...again

We have been living happily in Middlebury for the last thirteen years. For the last three years we have rented this house at 402 W. Berry Street. It has been a tough three years, but the highlight has been living here, so close to downtown that we can walk down two blocks to our bank, a restaurant, a hardware store, and a few other great places. We can walk a couple more blocks and be at one of the greatest parks in the area, Krider Gardens. We live only a block from a leg of the Pumpkin Vine Nature Trail. I have so loved living here, and I will miss it greatly.

Many of you know that Jay lost his Dad in October. We had just had lunch with him at Olive Garden for Jay's birthday the Saturday previous to the week that he died. It's still hard to believe that he went so fast. At any rate, Jay's Dad and his wife, Edna, were living in one of the duplexes that are now part of the estate that he left behind. Edna is moving out and we are moving in. We may have to rent it for the first couple of months, until the estate gets settled. But, when the estate gets settled, we will be living there for free. In our situation, free is good.

Another advantage to this move is that it will be closer for me to get to work. I will be able to go home over lunch. I'm excited about that. I'm also happy about the idea of having Krull Cabinets again. My husband built all the cabinetry in the duplexes. I have missed having Krull Cabinets while I have been in Middlebury, though we had them briefly in the basement kitchen in the house on County Road 35.

I know that the move will bring some welcome changes to our situation, financially and otherwise. But, oh, how I will miss my dear Middlebury! I will miss being so close and in such a safe environment that I can get up in the morning while it is still dark and walk for an hour, and never feel threatened. We will live close to a number of shopping areas in Elkhart's north side, but I will not feel safe to walk to these areas due to the traffic count and just the general crime rate in Elkhart. I will find a place to walk, but it may be an indoor spot.

This is Andy and Tricia surprising Grandpa at what will soon be our front door.

Anyway, moving is always an adventure. I have to find homes for a lot of items I can no longer keep because of space considerations. It's a good thing we downsized when we moved here, but we need to super downsize now!

Baking Goodies

It doesn't surprise anybody who knows me, but I love to cook. I also love to bake. It's a good thing that I have a job and can't devote more time to these two hobbies, because I also like to eat the things I cook and bake. I would be "roughly the size of a barge." As soon as it turns cold outside here in northern Indiana, my oven gets a workout. There are apple pies made from fresh picked, locally grown apples. There is pumpkin pie, sometimes made from pumpkins from my own garden, but not recently. There are dozens and dozens of cookies. There are cakes and brownies.  I think my favorite thing to make and eat around the holidays are my homemade crescent rolls. They have a ton of butter in them, so no wonder they melt in your mouth. I got the recipe from a cookbook my mother-in-law gave to me a long time ago called "Nutbread and Nostalgia" which was put together by the Junior League in South Bend.  You have to use real butter in the rolls, not margarine. I suppose they are mostly bad for your health, but they are oh so good in your mouth!

Another thing that I really love this time of year is home made beef stew. I think if I were going to overeat, I would rather overeat savory foods rather than sweet ones. I usually fill up on a meal and don't have room for dessert. Beef stew is like the ultimate comfort food for me. For some reason, it always reminds me of my mother. She is the one who taught me how to make it. I don't have a recipe. It turns out a little different every time, yet consistenly yummy! When it is cold outside, there is nothing as wonderful as coming into the house and having the savory fragrance of beef stew greeting me from atop the stove or in the crockpot. It's still good a week later. (Insert words of nursery rhyme here..some like it hot, some like it cold, some like it in the pot nine days old!) I am hungry now, and it's only 9:00 a.m.!
At any rate, this is the time of year that I kick the baking into high gear. There has to be a turkey, at least that is what I think there has to be. Sometime during the season, even if I am not hosting the gathering, I have to roast a turkey. There have to be the crescent rolls. I have made two batches already this season. We need at least three kinds of cookies. There are the chocolate chips, the peanut butter with chocolate kisses, and there should be cookie cutter cookies decorated with colored frostings. Tricia will want my pumpkin swirl cheesecake with the ginger snap cookie crust. I want pumpkin pies and almost always, pecan pie. Those are just the basics for the season. I somehow find time to do all of this from the end of November to the beginning of December. Well, I feel I have to do this. IT MUST BE DONE!

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Summer on the Flip Side

Our county fair is almost over, and so is July. Face it, folks, we are on the back side of summer. There is still plenty of time to enjoy it, I hope! I just wanted to call your attention to the fact that we are on the slippery slope into fall. None of us would mind fall so much if it weren't followed by winter. I always start thinking about that this time of year, maybe because of my melancholy trend.

It's all good, though. I love every season, for some reason. I love summer because we get to run around with no clothes on...I mean, barely! At least we get to fore go the coats and hats and scarves and sweaters and even stockings! I love the fresh vegetables and watermelon and strawberries. I love family reunions, county and state fairs. I love, love, LOVE Indiana tomatoes! I love fall because of the rustic colors in the woods and the fields. I love the cooler days and even cooler nights. I love seeing the farmers in the fields, harvesting. I love the fall parties. I love winter because I have always enjoyed snow, and I enjoy it even more when I can go ski on it. And cold, if you are dressed for it, can be enjoyable, believe it or not. (Just not extreme cold, with blowing, drifting snow. But we won't think about that right now.) And I love spring for the fresh air and increased sunshine, flowers, and just the end of winter/beginning of summer.

No matter what time of year it is, I think we should all always observe it to the best of our ability. Too many times, we get wrapped up with work or business and we forget to pay attention to the day. Me! I am so guilty of this. I dread something that is going to happen tomorrow, and I forget to enjoy today! I forget to tell the people I love that I love them. Intensely! I forget to make my surroundings beautiful. I forget to make my co-workers feel brighter. You know, sometimes we are the sunshine, and we forget to turn on our rays! SHINE PEOPLE! Let's shine!

So, here we are on the flip side of summer, and I just wanted to remind you, again, to make every day count!

Newsies

Every morning since about the middle of May, I have been getting up around 3:15 a.m. For two hours, it was more in the beginning and always more on Sundays, I am on a race against the clock to get my newspaper route delivered. I roll out of bed, take care of bathroom duties, take my thyroid pill, pull on some underclothes, pants and a shirt, and I leave to go down to Harding's Friendly Market to sit in the car and wait for my papers to arrive. When they get there, I thank the driver and wish him a good day, take my papers to my car and bag them and put them in a box. I deliver some South Bend Tribunes, but mostly, The Elkhart Truth.

Most days, out on that route so early in the morning, I feel like some sort of sub-human. My husband thinks I have the anointing to do this job. But, honestly, it's just a job. I'm only doing it for the money. And it isn't much money, either. It really isn't much once you deduct the gas mileage and wear and tear on the car. BUT, it is extra money. It's money we would not have if I didn't get up in the morning and go do this. (Sometimes I think I must just be crazy to keep doing this.) I don't really like getting up so early in the morning, but it beats staying up at night working at Meijer's or waitressing after I leave from my other day job.

You do not meet many new people when you are doing a paper route. You hardly have any human interaction whatsoever. If you do, it isn't likely to be pleasant. Earlier on when I was still learning the route, I met Mr. Grumpy Pants. He was waiting, barefoot, by his mailbox in one of the subdivisions where he lives and I deliver.  I smiled and handed him his paper and said, "Good morning!" He just scowled and said, "You sure are late with your papers." I apologized, "I'm sorry. We received them an hour and 15 minutes late today." He didn't say anything else, he had already turned to go back to his nice, comfortable chair to read his newspaper, I guess, before I could even finish my apology. His real name is...oh, it doesn't matter; he will forever be Mr. Grumpy Pants to me.

I did meet one very nice lady while delivering papers. Her name is Lucille. One morning, while I was out delivering the papers to the retirement center where she lives, she was waiting for me. By the time I get there, it is usually 5:15 to 5:30 a.m. She was waiting because she wanted to correct me. I had been told early on in the delivery process, to just leave the papers for the retirement center at the front desk and leave. Lucille explained to me that not every resident that was receiving papers there was a spry as she was. (Lucille walks with a cane. She told me she can "race right along.") Many of the residents are quite handicapped. If I leave the papers at the desk, she told me everyone else helps themselves to the paper, whether they subscribe or not. Sometimes the true subscribers never even see their papers. She insisted that I must walk them around to every room. She walked me around and showed me what rooms all the six newspapers were to be delivered to. She was there every morning after that for a few weeks. She would smile when I came in and tell me "Good Morning." I would smile back and say, "Good morning, Lucille." That was so nice, I felt a little more human, then. But I felt sorry for her, getting up so early every morning and waiting for me to get there. I told her one morning that she didn't have to do it. She said she didn't mind, but one day soon after that, she wasn't there anymore.

Anyway, I am going to try to keep this up for a year. Some days I get quite tired of it all. If someone complains because I am late with the papers, I lose $2.00. I only get 16 cents to deliver each paper, every single day. I try not to give anyone reason to complain. But I don't control when the papers get there, I can't deliver them until they are delivered to me. And sometimes they are delivered to me quite late! Jay helps me on Sundays. Until recently, though, he has had a job that he had to leave for before I would get done with my route on the weekdays. I learned to do it by myself and have gotten pretty quick at it. So, I'm a "Newsie", for now. Think of me, if you are ever awake at 3:15 a.m., and you get to roll over and go back to sleep for a few more hours!