A Little Bit.

Sometimes even the things that we love can hurt us. And so we are left with choices. Choices to stay, to go, to pretend all is okay, to work through things, or to give them wings and wish them happiness, but knowing we can't provide it for one reason or another.

I've had to make a lot of choices this year. Ones I never anticipated making. Ever. And none of them were easy. In fact, I would say all of them hurt to varying degrees and all of them have left scars.

Dreams were dashed, because of choices made by others and hope was rekindled at the same time.

A friend told me to hold on to every moment, because life changes rapidly. It does. Especially when you have different plans or ideas about what will happen than what comes to fruition. Sometimes happiness means just simply accepting what your life is and enjoying THOSE moments instead of looking for more. Because odds are it's the "more" that changes more frequently than anything else and breaks your heart.

Getting grounded again. Breathing on my own. Standing on my own two feet. That's where I'm at. A little bit stronger for sticking up for myself. A little bit.

A Gift.

I've been thinking a lot about connections again today. The abstract connections of strangers. The timid connections of repairing relationships. The jubilant connections of those who simply feel at peace in their bond. Some days, the connection we have with others shifts.

I was honored to see a beautiful connection between two people today. It was filled with a fragile attempt to connect, a timid bond, a place of shared memories and, most importantly, with love. Sometimes, all it takes is that first move. That swallowing of pride, that deep breath of uncertainty and the scary place of vulnerability can all make for a beautiful connection. This time it did. It was. And to see it, to be a part of it in even a small way....it's indescribable.

Love, truly is, the greatest gift of all.

The Moments.

Today was filled with a lot of good moments despite the fact that two out of three kids are sick and I didn't get to bed until 2am last night (or this morning, as the case may be). Nonetheless, good things happened that weren't all that big, but they were the type of moments that fill your soul. Moments of blessing.

The first part of the story began on Wednesday, really. We had just come home from a day out and two kids were riding by on a bike on their way to the P.A.L. Center. We live directly across the street from the center, so we have kids coming and going all day long throughout the summer. There's actually a Memorial Park with a real tank and other war memorabilia between the center and our street, but it's as close to across the street as you can get.

One of them stopped and asked if he could hide his bike in and behind our evergreen. Now, we find A LOT of bikes hidden in our trees and shrubs and for a long time thought that people were stealing them and putting them back there. Turns out that the P.A.L. Center kids have been trying to hide them so that they DON'T get stolen. You would think that if you leave your bike at the POLICE Athletic League Center that it would be relatively safe. Apparently, that is not the case.

So, I told him to go ahead and hide the bike but to come and see me the next day and I'd have a lock for him for the bike. I actually got 4 locks, one for him that I kept back and 3 extras that we dropped off at the center in case others needed them. Yesterday came and went and no one stopped by. Well, around dinner time tonight the front door bell rang and there he was standing on my front steps looking completely unsure. Three of his friends were on their bikes on the sidewalk looking equally as nervous.

But I was thrilled to see him and greeted him with an excited, "I have something for you!" The look on his face, on the faces of his friends, was priceless. He thanked me and walked down the steps in shock that I had actually gotten him a bike lock. The others just stared and he said, "Don't worry, we can use this to lock up all of our bikes."

Which made me just stare. And blurt out, "Come back tomorrow. I'll have locks for all of you."

Their wide eyes and slightly disbelieving stares flipped my heart. "You're a real nice lady," one of them said softly. It doesn't matter to them that their bikes are old and beat up with cushioning coming out of the seats....they're their bikes and the only way they've been able to hang on to them is to hide them in my trees and shrubs. And that's incredibly sad.

So, Aidan and I went out and bought 6 new bike locks and I have a feeling they'll be back tomorrow. And I wouldn't be surprised if others came along.

After the kids were in bed I headed over to see Chester at the nursing home. He and Frances were the residents I adopted without really telling them. I promised him last week that I'd come by today, but with two sick kids I couldn't go until Dan got home.

He greeted me with a, "Well, hello stranger!" and a smile that brightened my heart. We talked for an hour and a half, and for a man who doesn't like to talk much, that was A LOT for him! I got him talking about his wife, Annie, and his mom and sister. He told me about being drafted and how he was worried about his mom since he was the sole caretaker of the house after his dad died. He said he tried to get Annie to wait to marry him until after he was out of the service, because he didn't want her to be burdened with caring for him if he was injured or disabled. Annie refused and told him she didn't care, she was going to marry him before he went. Good for Annie, I said. His eyes twinkled and he chuckled with remembering. They got married in August at Mt. Carmel Church in Bridgeport and had a blind accordian player as the reception entertainment. He went on with good, happy memories for a long time.

And when it was time for me to go, I told him I'd be back next Friday morning with the kids and Suzy E Jo donuts. He said I didn't have to, that he knows I'm busy. I said I wanted to, that coming to see him makes me happy, because I love him. Well, his eyes filled up with tears and he waved me away as I kissed his cheek. "Get over it, Chester," I said. "I love you and am going to keep coming to see you." He laughed and said, "I know that even if I said don't come, you'd be here anyway to make me laugh." And I would, he's right.

Because those are the moments that fill my soul to overflowing. Kindness and love and connections....the best things ever.

Strength.

Doing good for the right reasons isn't always a popular choice. You'd think it would be. But it's not always recognized for what it is. And that's a shame. What's sadder is when doing good, with kindness and compassion, is seen as weakness.

It's not.

Being kind, even when it's difficult, takes more strength of character than not. Kindness and compassion are never weaknesses. Afterall, that's what God tells us to do.

Kindness, love, compassion and understanding - these are the strengths of character that few possess. And it is an honor and blessing to have people like that in my life.

Let.

I like to be in control of things. It's true, and probably not much of a shocker to those of you who have known me for longer than 5 minutes. I like to plan and strategize and accomplish. That's not bad, but I often forget to just LET God use me.

Today's sermon really hit home. We talked about how we're always rushing and planning to do things FOR God, like Martha did when Jesus was visiting her and Mary. She was so busy trying to make dinner that she got annoyed that Mary was just sitting and listening and not helping her. When she asked Jesus to tell Mary to help her, he said that Mary was making the better choice. Martha was being practical. After all, they had to eat, but being practical cost her the wiser path.

I'm pretty certain that Jesus would have fed everyone dinner Himself if Martha had chosen to just sit and be with Him. After 5000, this small dinner party would have been a breeze.

If Martha would have LET Him take care of her, He would have. The Bible tells us that over and over again. If we LET God in and LET Him use us to accomplish His work, life is simple. Uncomplicated. Far from anxious....

But LETTING God be in control is difficult. At least for me - most of the time. It goes against the practical side of my nature. But, I think I need to be less like Martha and more like Mary.

I downloaded an app for my iPhone - BridgeFM - it's a Christian music station. I heard the song "God is in Control" today and it made me pause. Because while I firmly believe that God can and wants to use my life, I do NOT believe that He controls this world. The Bible tells us that Satan does. So, to send the message that God controls everything we do and our paths are predestined, is just not Biblically accurate. Nor does it make sense.

What's one of the first things we learn as young children in the church? That God is love, right? Love does not cause disease and heartache and tragedy. Love heals those things. God is in those moments when you're at your weakest, but He doesn't cause them. He doesn't put you through misery to "learn a lesson." But He's there with you, fighting for you, when those times come. It's a powerful distinction.

So, you have a choice, I have a choice. Do you let God use you where you are and accomplish His work with a joyful heart? Or do you rebel against it? Should you try new opportunities or go after positions as they come up? I believe so, but I think it's also important to remember that it's not whether or not those things come to pass that matters. What matters is that you tackle them for the right reasons and LET His grace fill you no matter how things turn out.

Until We Meet Again.

Frances passed away this morning at 3:30am. God bless her.

Remember Me.

Going back to the nursing home these last few days has been eye opening in a lot of ways. I knew I adored the residents, but I didn't quite know what my impact on them was. The thing with Alzheimer's and dementia is that, for the most part, the person is still there. They just can't remember. They've lost bits and pieces, and over time those small parts become chunks and entire memories. So, I wasn't surprised, or hurt in even the smallest bit, when those who I used to have long conversations with didn't know me this week.

They may not know me, but I know them. And I can tell their stories for them and remember. And I've found that sometimes, when I talk with them about what I know about their lives, they look at me differently and there's a spark of memory. Whether it's a memory of me or a memory of their past doesn't really matter. Because, for that moment, they have another piece of the puzzle. That's the good stuff.

Of course, there are also those who do remember and beg me every single time they see me to come back to work there. And I would. For them. Because while I may bring them joy, they give it back to me a hundred times over. It's an honor to be loved by them.

There are those crazy, poignant, funny moments too...

Mr. P: "Well, hello there! I saw you were giving out kisses, did you happen to save one for me?"
Me: "Of course, but what will your wife say?"
Mr. P...with a wink: "I won't tell if you won't!"


Mrs. D: "So, are you coming back to work now? We need you, you know."
Me: "No, I'm so sorry. But I will keep coming back to visit!"
Mrs. D: "Well, you'd better not come visit me and get too close to my closet."
Me: "And why is that?"
Mrs. D: "Because if you do I'm going to stuff you in it so you'll have to stay."
(Keep in mind this woman weighs about 80 lbs soaking wet and is about 4'5".)

Mrs. H: "Do I know you?"
Me: "Oh yes, I used to help take care of you and we'd talk for a long time every night."
Mrs. H: "I'm sorry I don't remember you, you look like someone I'd like to talk with."


Mr. T: "Well, hot diggety dog! Look at you, pretty girl! Want to go get married?"
Me: "I think my husband might be a little upset if we did that."
Mr. T: "Husband-schmusband! You should have just waited to marry me!"


Laughter keeps them going. Love keeps them going. Connections to others keep them going. Somethings in life never change.

Frances.

I want to introduce you to someone. Her name is Frances. She is funny, intelligent and has a soul that's filled with live and laughter. She has been married twice and has buried both of her husbands much too young in life. But I'm getting ahead of myself....

She grew up in Illinois, one of many children. Her youngest brother died at the age of 7 after cutting his leg on a rusty spring. Medicine wasn't what it is today, and they couldn't cure the poison that seeped into his blood. Her mom never really recovered from that, but how could any mom, really?

Frances was a star student, and was much more progressive than most young women her age. She took care of her sisters and helped on her family farm as best as she could. She took a job as a secretary and was a whirlwind in the office. She jokes that she had them whipped into shape in no time.

After that she ended up in Washington, DC with a job in the CIA. That's where she met her first husband. He was brilliant, an aeronautical engineer who fell in love with her just as quickly as she fell in love with him. They had a son - born on her 40th birthday. Not too long after, her husband was killed in a helicopter crash near their home in Arizona.

So, she went back to school. She earned her degree in education so that she could teach while her son was in school and so she could get him free tuition in one of the most prestiges private schools in Arizona. She must have been a force to be reckoned with!

She met her second husband, a successful barber, and they married. Another marriage filled with love and companionship. But he died suddenly of a heart attack and she was once again alone.

Never one to feel sorry for herself, she busied herself with her community and neighbors.

I came to know Frances 3 years ago when I started working at the nursing home. She's spunky and fiery and the kindest woman you will ever meet. I've adopted her just as she's adopted me.

And so, today, I sit here at her bedside typing to you...telling you about this woman who is so dear to me....and she's laboring for breath, and close to returning home to God. Today, I am the family. Today, she is my loved one.

I'm reminded again of how important good work is. I'm reminded that kindness and love, no matter what the risks of loving may be, are truly what matters. Power, prestige, fancy houses, fancy cars, and all earthly things we work so hard to have play no part in our last moments on this earth.

And I'm reminded that love finds us in the strangest places and changes us forever. Love for friends, love for family, love for God. That's what matters.

Will Frances make it through the night? I don't know. But I will stay until I have to go and return in the morning. It's the least I can do. But it's an honor to do it.

UPDATE 7/30/10: Frances' health has declined even more today. I spent an hour with her this afternoon and she didn't stir even once. Please continue to keep her in your prayers.

Favorites.

I know I work in a nursing home and that every resident will inevitably pass away, but it doesn't make it any easier.

One of my favorite ladies is dying. I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but I can't help it. I love them all. Yes, I love every single resident there. No exceptions. But this lady...well, this lady looks like my great-grandma and she has my mother's name.

The first night that I was officially "on my own" getting residents ready for bed, I had her. I was so nervous. I'd just passed my licensing exam and was so scared I was going to do something wrong.

Well, I was helping her transfer from her wheelchair into her bed and somehow she ended up diagonally on her bed. I had a moment of panic and then she started to laugh. She was laughing so hard she had tears running down her cheeks. So, I started laughing too. We made it through the rest of the care and at the very end she called me back to her bedside.

"Come here," she said. "You did a great job. I'm so lucky to have had you taking care of me tonight. Now, give me a kiss and go home to your family."

I, of course, burst into tears, because I had been so anxious and now she was comforting me. It was such a moment of grace.

I told her how much that meant to me last night when I sat holding her hand at the end of my shift. She was slipping in and out of consciousness, her eyes closed, her mouth parted. But she was there. She squeezed my hand so tightly when I told her how much I love her and the corner of her mouth lifted when I told her how much she makes me laugh. She'll be going soon. I know that and I have no regrets about not saying what I wanted to say to her.

She is very loved and will be very missed. And she will always be one of my favorites.