Random Acts of "Kindness"

Posts tagged ‘GIFTS’

LIMBO

I have to admit that I KNOW that I am extremely BLESSED. I was reminded of that fact last weekend when the wife of a brother-in-law posted a note on Face Book on the anniversary of his passing. Since he passed on Leap Year, this was the first anniversary. Not only did she still miss him, but she wished he would stop by to say “hi.”

Thankfully since my father’s passing twenty five years ago, I’m aware of the “help” I receive from the other side on a regular basis. Since he hadn’t remembered me before he passed, he quickly sent me a sign that he was fine. I don’t access Face Book regularly. I have to admit that I haven’t been on Twitter or any of the others to date. Of course every day is a new day and who knows what tomorrow will bring.

This morning Face Book had a note on Alzheimer’s. I was reminded of my father’s journey and very grateful that in his slipping away he didn’t get stuck in the time of the fire. Thinking of him this morning and the sadness and loss he must have felt at the death of his wife and son, I’m so glad that he didn’t revisit those years. I’ve written about our journey in TO PAP, WITH LOVE. I’m SO GLAD that my husband was able to let me know that he was fine and continues to “help” me.

I have to admit that I’m having a hard time adjusting to my new life as a widow. I seem to have lost my purpose. Since I don’t give in easily I’m trying. Reality is that I can sit and watch the world go by and not feel bad about it. I NEVER spent much time during the day watching television. I can’t say the same now. I know that I have many things that I SHOULD DO — I just can’t motivate myself to do them.

I realized that the problems my body parts are giving me might be the cause of my lack of purpose. Because of our weather, my knees have become more of a problem as well as my right ankle. Dealing with the pain wears me out. It is easier to sit and not move.

I know that I need to lose weight, I just can’t inspire myself to do it. In my defense, I have committed to morning and evening exercise. Both are easy and don’t take long but I do them daily. I have committed to walking more than 3,000 steps a day. Most days I reach that number. Sometimes it is easy. I have committed to eating raw turmeric. It has been two weeks and I’m not sure if I notice a difference. I have committed to using Collagen daily. It has been a week and I’m not noticing an improvement but I’m not giving up yet.

Spring is coming. Maybe my energy will return.

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MISTY EYES

I don’t cry easily. I wish I was able too. I would have LOVED to dissolve in tears when my husband passed. I’m sure there have been other times in my life when I had the same desire. Probably with the same results. I know people that cry at the sadness of a good book or a movie. Some cry for happiness — at a wedding. My eyes tear up, become a bit moist, might even relinquish a tear, but not a deluge or even a sprinkle.

So why the title of this thought ramble? We have just celebrated my husband’s 81st birthday without his physical presence. Facebook gave me a picture from 2017 in which we celebrated his birthday with our grandchildren in “horse country.” I recognized the photo right away. I have part of the image on my laptop. Both of the kids are there with their ice cream. The only thing I can see of my husband is his arm. I didn’t remember when the photo was taken, or what he was doing. The photo showed me we were celebrating his birthday, and included his humor — he was saluting the camera. I think he was the one to post the photo on my laptop, which why his body and face were not included.

I shared the photo with my family and friends. My middle daughter had an image of wings. My grand daughter was flying back to Florida. She posted an image from the plane in flight, mentioning this was the closest she could get to him right now. Our youngest picture posted a lovely picture of herself getting a hug from her father. MY EYES MISTED, to be honest — they are misting as I write this.

I’ve acknowledged that I am EXTREMELY LUCKY. Not only to have had him for a husband but to have our four children and grandchildren that I am proud of, who also miss him very much — who feel free to share their feelings. Since my father passed 25 years ago and confirmed that there is life after death, I know my husband is free from pain and able to enjoy being of “help” to me and others.

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ANGEL TREE

It is the middle of February and our Christmas tree is still taking center stage. Well — not exactly our Christmas tree. Most of the lights and ornaments were retired at the end of January. I planned to take the whole tree down. But just as it often happens to my plans, things changed.

First I went shopping and met a woman who has kept her Christmas tree up, decorated for 10 years since her husband passed. First — she LOVES her tree. Second — she LOVES the ornaments that are on the tree. Third — her tree is twelve feet tall, and old and she is afraid that if they take it down they will NEVER be able to get it back up again.

I shared the idea with my children. THEY WERE NOT IMPRESSED! But one of my daughters suggested I make it into a Valentine tree. Of course, she was only joking. BUT the longer I thought about the idea, the more I thought about turning the tree into an angel tree. My husband’s birthday is in February. The anniversary of my father’s passing is an February AND my father’s birthday is also in February.

Over the years I have been given many angels. Soon after I wrote TO PAP WITH LOVE, I had a dream in which I was a pilot on a Blue Angel plane. I didn’t tell any of my children about the dream but that Christmas I received three sets of angels. One set of three are about 4″ angels playing a long flute. The second set of three look like icicles playing instruments. The third set is angel wings.

When I was young I bought a small set of six angels playing instruments. The year after I received the three sets of angels there is what I refer to as an angel skirmish. When I placed an angel on the tree they fell off. Over and over again. I’ve was NOT HONORING my older angels. Placing the new ones on first. I’ve learned my lesson, THAT NO LONGER HAPPENS.

Over the years I have added to my angel collection — four dogs and one cat. I have not gone back in time to add angels for all of our pets that have passed. At times I have added an angel to remember a friend that passed. I bought a motorcycle for my husband this year.

I won’t bore you with a list of all the angels that are on our tree. I don’t know if I found them all but I just counted 16 more. We added red and white miniature lights. Seven red roses are spaced in various places.

A friend suggested I do a tree with masks for the celebration in New Orleans. Leprechauns for St Patrick’s day. Eggs for Easter. Firecrackers and flags for Independence day. All great ideas but I think the tree will come down after my father’s birthday.

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LITTLE BY LITTLE

Celebrating the first holidays without the man of the house has been difficult. I will acknowledge that I am extremely LUCKY. I know I have “friends in high places” that “help” me with my life. I also know that my husband has joined the team. He “helped” me with my Christmas shopping. The present I found for my son was right on target. My son was VERY HAPPY when he saw the charger that works not only with electronic equipment, it also starts a car.

Before Christmas I traveled to our daughter’s house in Central Illinois. I took Robin with me. She cried when we stopped at the first rest stop. It was finally open after being closed for over a year for remodeling. I don’t know if she was tired of riding in the car, really had to go or hoping we would find “her man.” I stopped in to use the facilities and talked to the woman in charge. She had a major problem and I didn’t know how to help her. Her sister had lived with her for many years and recently passed. She had a blood clot in her lungs and was on a high rate of oxygen. She died without a will, insurance or having added her sister to her bank account. Her sister was responsible for paying the bills without the resources to do so. I suggested she try to get help from the minister at her church or the elected officials in her town. I was EXTREMELY glad that I wasn’t in her shoes.

As is my practice I stopped at Wal-Mart . While I was waiting in line to pay for my purchases, a veteran wearing a Desert Storm hat got behind me. As is also my practice — I started talking to him — I thanked him for his service and must have mentioned that my husband had recently passed over. He shared that he lost his wife eight years ago. “You know she is with you”, I replied. “Yes”, he replied. “She turns off the television regularly on me”. I really hoped “my team” hadn’t overheard that. When we returned home, I was watching the public station in Indiana. John Legend was soon talking on the program (??) Without my help the television changed to a regular channel, a program awarding individuals for their world wide service. I told the story to a friend of mine and she replied “You know who was ALWAYS changing the channels for you.” And she was right. My husband often watched more than one program at a time. “Thanks, honey.”

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STILL HONORING THE MAN

I knew my husband was a man of honor. This morning I opened the bible to Job 30. Normally I DON’T LIKE to open to Job. It usually alerts me to rough water. Today was different. “I wore my honesty like a garment.” Christian song early morning reminded me that I am loved. I am extremely fortunate in many ways. Our son moved home more than eight years ago to help his parents. I am not alone in the house. Yesterday it SNOWED. More than 3″. He took care of the steps and the sidewalk. I had started on the steps with a broom — only to quickly discover that there was too much snow on the steps already. I had planned to go to a Veteran ceremony but the snow changed my plans.

My husband enjoyed helping others. He was quick to give away stuff he was no longer using. I’m sure he is happy that the insulin he no longer needed has been given to a couple of people whose finances made getting insulin difficult. His clothes are also going to a couple of out reach places.

I have over 30 photo albums and piles of photos that never made it into an album. I found an album that I had put together using a photo service. I planned to send it to one of my husband’s sisters until I looked at it closely. I made the album when my husband and I returned from a trip back to his home in Maryland. We visited with three of his sisters, enjoyed a visit with his childhood friend and experienced more than a foot of snow arriving on the day we were scheduled to come back home. The pages are full of my memories of the trip. Since it was one of our last trips together, going through the pages with my notes — “A fellow at breakfast told stories of bear hunting. I was concerned that we would be in that area. The fellow told me not to worry. A note on one of the pages not only told the short story, but mentioned the bear hunting checkpoint sign.”

I’ve mentioned that I’m aware that I walk to a different drummer. I’m aware that I receive “help” from my “friends in high places.” I was wondering why I hadn’t noticed “help” from my husband. Sorrow does strange things. This morning I not only remembered my daughter needing a new battery in her car before she returned home. She had used her car with NO PROBLEMS taking her father back and forth to the doctors. She had moved her car in front of the house to make packing easier. She learned a new battery was needed when she planned to leave.

I’m an early riser, soon after my husband passed, I took my pens and books and calendars into the kitchen closing the door to not wake those who were sleeping downstairs. When I went to retrieve my pens they were gone. I remembered I had pens in a valentine box given to me by a dear friend. Opening the box, I found a red silk pouch containing a message. “This represents a: Life, b: Endurance, c: Hope, d: and Change.” It had a drawing of a butterfly and a personal note that I’ll keep private. It accompanied a butterfly magnetic pin. Last present and note I received from a special man.

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HONORING THE MAN

It is with great sadness that I share the news that my husband of more than 55 years has passed over to the other side. We learned in September that he had pneumonia, then the mass in his lung was small cell cancer. He survived time in the hospital, kept his humor and quality of life. Chemo and having to wear oxygen began to take its toll. He did not like to wear the oxygen. He did not want to be a burden on me. He did not like the sore throat. He did not like that it hurt to eat. His favorite food became oatmeal with lots of butter, potato soup with lots of butter and chicken noodle soup with LOTS OF BUTTER A friend shared that her sister with cancer liked POTATO SOUP WITH LOTS OF BUTTER.

We applied for and received a handicapped parking placard. We submitted a form for handicapped parking. HE DID NOT NEED EITHER.

Although his body was responding to the chemo, masses were shrinking in his lungs, other parts of his body said this is enough. He passed over in the hospital at 1:18 in the morning. Both my son and daughter were there. They are having trouble sleeping in the one o’clock hour. Nights can be difficult. It depends on the track m y mind wants to take.

At first I was ANGRY. “Why did you leave me?” Then I realized I was being selfish. He DID NOT WANT to be handicapped. HE DID NOT WANT to be a burden on me. HE DID NOT WANT TO have to wear oxygen.

These thoughts and more in the same vein have helped during this time of “PROCESS.” Many things have been delayed. I’m not going to list them. I have been aware of “help” from the other side for many years. Now my husband has joined the team. Is he adding to the merriment. It is hard to tell. The Saturday when our daughter was heading back home, her car wouldn’t start. Although she used her car for trips to the hospital with out any troubles, she NEEDED A NEW BATTERY.

Cell phones and computers have a life of their own. Slowly, very slowly, I’m taking care of business. I’m dotting the i’s and crossing the “t’s”. And tomorrow will be another day.

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LOVE THE TIMING

My father passed over more than 25 years ago. He is still very active in my life. My mother passed over when I was four, she still helps me. I wasn’t aware of her help until my father let the cat out of the bag. I think the story is in Journey With Me. Until my father was afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease, I thought I led a normal life. Since I have experienced their “help” on many occasions, I’m more aware.

Last Monday the large locust tree was removed from our back yard. The roots were strangling it and part of the tree had died. The loss of the tree meant that our west facing windows would be exposed to the sunshine ALL afternoon. In the summer those rooms would get very hot.

I like to shop at Aldi’s. I pick up the sales sheet for the next week when I’m in the store. I was very happy when I saw the announcement of energy saving curtains. Since we have an older home, our windows are LARGE. No matter the size of the curtains, I’m confident we can make them work. It will help keeping out the winter cold as well as the summer heat.

Also on the Aldi’s sale sheet was a pressure cooker. I have one at home and find it helpful. Having one at the camper would come in handy when the temperature climbs. Most of my cookbooks are at home. Thankfully I had just purchased a new one — Lose Weight — when we were home. I didn’t have time to investigate so it accompanied us to the camper. I have found a few recipes that I want to try.

Our oldest grandson, with his wife stopped by at the camper on their way to Colorado. They were able to spend a few relaxing days with us until they continued their trip. My radar must have been working. I spotted them fishing at the lake when I returned from town. His wife had caught 4 fish, he had caught 14. Thankfully they had returned the fish to the water so I didn’t have to clean them. Neither of them had the experience cleaning fish.

There is a new buffet out in the country — Pizza Ranch. I LOVE pizza, my husband DOES NOT! Plans were made with our youngest daughter’s family to try the ranch. I severely limited sodium that day to partake in PIZZA. Stopping in the bathroom, I was able to lend an arm to an elderly woman who was having trouble walking. I took her purse and lent her an arm until we reached her male companion.

I have said “Thank You” many times during the past few days.

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LOST GIRL

Don’t be alarmed. This thought ramble is not about a person who is actually missing. It is about me. I wonder who I was in the seventies.

What brought this up? You might ask. The answer is very simple. While our son was on a cruise with his sister and niece, I took advantage of the time and cleaned out the space under the stairs going to the attic. I found MANY TREASURES. So many in fact we scheduled a run to the Salvation Army store. Our trunk was completely FILLED. And now there is more stuff ready to go.

It must have been in the seventies. My father was attending a weekly auction. He also had rented a space at the flea market. He picked up stuff to sell. He stored the stuff under the stairs going to the attic. I just FOUND 3 lamps. I also found a bag of wrapped beverage glasses. The glasses are fine, the bag ripped when I picked it up. They are now waiting in a box to go to a new home.

I found a football. I found a basket ball. I found 5 rolling suitcases and a suit bag. Some stuff left. Some stuff remained. When we were in square dancing, I made many of our outfits. I found bags upon bags of material. A woman of many talents I found zodiac signs embroidered in yarn — not a complete set — 5 or 6 finished. I have NO IDEA what plans I had for them.

I also found bags upon bags of yarn. Some contained projects that were in the works but not finished — a western vest? Lovely wool! A cobalt blue sweater, with huge needles, not finished. The magazines for both projects packed with the yarn.

I also found an interesting dazzle yarn coat — fringe — tied in the webbing. The colors are BRIGHT — hot pink, orange, golden yellow, avocado green made to fit a much smaller person than I am now. I couldn’t get rid of it then, I can’t get rid of it now. I have NO IDEA what possessed me to make it. The coat is FINISHED. Like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon — I have changed. I used to be very shy, not going out of my way to speak to people. I’m definitely NOT that person now. I can’t imagine myself, in the 70’s wearing that coat. If it fit, I don’t know if I would have the courage to wear that coat now!

In the 70’s, I wasn’t aware of the extra gifts I possessed. My father was alive and healthy. We had four children. I was working, adding to household money. We had a camper, escaping to the country on weekends. Recently my husband realized that I have been a caretaker all my life. And he is absolutely right! My mother, brother and others were probably busy helping behind the scenes but I was unaware of their presence.

On a beautiful Saturday, I took a walk to our park. I’m still trying to increase the number of steps to be ready for Hawaii. I heard music on the air and searched for the source. A retired gentleman was playing an alto sax. A woman was standing near by when I approached and told her I was going to interrupt his playing. I wanted to tell him how much I enjoyed it.

He has only been playing for 6 years. It was one of the things he wanted to learn to do when he retire. He also thought about writing. I mentioned that I was a writer, by this time the woman had joined us. She was a professional writer, writing for magazines and a newspaper. When I mentioned my crazy coat, she remembered that fringed yarn was all the rage in the 70’s. Answer — I guess that is why I made the coat?

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AFRICAN VIOLET UPDATED

AFRICAN VIOLET UPDATED

This thought ramble was written and published before. Of course, I had forgotten I wrote it and was surprised when I saw the title, already used. Since I like what I had written. I decided that updating was an option.

SPRING is poking its head around the corner. The winter of 2019 has been LONG, COLD, ICY! I have been restricted to the house because of the ice. FINALLY the ice path in our back yard has MELTED. Remembering to water the African violet I was surprised to see flowers. In the past, I think it has waited until June to bloom. It is still March. Usually it might have one blossom, at the most two. This year it has SIX. Thank You Muscles. (Now you know why an addition was called for.)

My father’s mother used to grow beautiful African violets. I didn’t pay attention to the care she gave them, I just liked the flowers — purple, white, doubles, pink. I bought an African violet when we first moved into our house and it promptly died. Not giving up easily — I bought another. Then another — and so on and so on. It didn’t take many plants before I learned that I didn’t have a green thumb. I didn’t know if I watered them too much or not enough. I learned that they needed to be watered from the roots — which I did. They had access to light, not bright sunshine but filtered light. Didn’t matter — they picked up their leaves and left.

Since I have had so much success with African violets, I am AMAZED that a plant that was given to me more than twenty years ago is still not only alive but thriving. I DON’T FERTILIZE IT, weeks go by when I forget to water it. It still blooms every spring. Sometimes it overgrows its pot, a portion of it wilts and the rest recovers.

This plant was given to me by MUSCLES. I think I have written at least one thought ramble about him, and referred to him in others. Muscles was a VERY DARK, elderly African American man. He adopted our family when our children were small. He took them to many Cub games and planted a garden in our back yard. His tomato plants were taller than our garage. Our back yard didn’t get much sun, so we didn’t get many tomatoes. He planted two apple trees and a lilac bush at our camper. Sadly because of the tornado, only the lilac bush is surviving and blooming.

So why do I mention this now. Because I remembered to water the plant today and it looks fantastic. More often than not I forget to water it and NEVER feed it. The only reason it is surviving is that thankfully someone unseen is taking care of it. I’ll admit that when I see the plant, I think of Muscles and the difference he made in our lives.

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GIFTS ACKNOWLEDGED

Naming a thought ramble is becoming harder and harder. I even contemplated numbering them starting with the new year. Then my daughter mentioned it would be harder to find once they were written and not having a title — possibly generating less interest. A gift — constructive help in making a decision. Didn’t help with the title though. Often I receive feedback or information that helps with a decision. Often it is a gift that I don’t acknowledge.

It is easy to recognize gifts that come wrapped in paper — harder to recognize gifts that arrive on the wind or unwrapped. We received an unexpected Christmas card from a friend. Seeing the card, seeing her name brought a smile to my face. Her husband passed a few years ago, they had moved out of our neighborhood and I lost track of them. I still had to write our Christmas letter. A gentle reminder that time is passing.

Often I recognize gifts that are found in the stores — I’m reminded of product I need to buy when I see it in another cart. If the item is on sale, I’m happy. I acquired an instant pot unexpectedly when I found it on sale at Aldi’s. We returned from out of town and we stopped to pick up milk, salad and bread. I noticed the item on their sales sheet. Lovely surprise.

Often I read something that is of benefit to me. Or I hear it on the radio or television. Maybe I meet someone walking down the street or in a store whom I hadn’t seen in a while. All of these are gifts. They bring a smile to my face or laughter.

Filling the car with Gas at Costco has been a challenge the past couple of weeks. The number of cars waiting overflow the lot and wind down the street. When I inquired as to the best time to fill up, I was told before 10:00 or after 6:00. They were getting three truckloads of gas a day. My husband dropped me at the store, and joined the crowd waiting to fill up. Finished shopping, I sat at a table while I waited. A young boy was enjoying his hot dog and we talked about Santa. They left and I invited an older oriental woman to join me. I must have commented on her age and learned we were the same age. I shook her hand and she replied “you look so young.” What a gift. I wasn’t feeling very young when she said that on a cold, dreary winter day. It brought a smile to my face. A gift — forgotten except I wrote myself a note.

Maybe that is the key — write down the unexpected gifts that arrive — beautiful weather or just sunshine after a dreary day, a birds song, a phone call, or meeting on the street, a sale, a compliment — the list goes on and on.

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