Random Acts of "Kindness"

Posts tagged ‘writing’

CHRISTMAS CARDS

My husband told me that I look at the world through innocent eyes. I guess that he is right. I prefer to look at the good in a situation instead of the evil. There is enough sadness and evil in the world to focus on it.

In my neighborhood, the mailboxes have gone into hiding. Three boxes that were on the corners near my house have disappeared. Talking to some of the residents in our neighborhood, I’ve learned that they aren’t the only ones. More have disappeared, whether it is cost cutting by the post office or plans to repair them remain to be seen. It is no longer easy to mail a letter. I’m sure I could give our letters to the mailman, but I never know who he or she will be or when they are coming. I dislike leaving checks out in our mailbox, hoping they won’t land in the wrong hands. Therefore I go for a longer walk. Thankfully I’m usually able to do so. I hate to think of a world without mail delivery. I don’t want everything to rely on the computer. I LIKE hard copies of our checking account, and bills. I still miss information, but on line, I would miss even more.

I know that some of the problems the post office is experiencing stems from the use of the internet. To date, I don’t pay our bills on line or do our banking. I know that many banks are safe, but I have heard of too many instances when accounts have been hacked. So, not only do I have innocent eyes but I guess I’m old fashioned too.

I like to read real books. To turn the pages, and (Don’t tell Sister) sometimes underline or make notes on the page.  I like to send and receive Christmas cards. A couple of years ago, I sent out a Christmas letter with the card. One year, the cards went out without the letter. I heard from many of our friends and relatives that they missed the letter. This year a letter was enclosed. Just a short note of the joys and trials of the year. Hopefully more joys than sorrows. This year’s letter announced my BLOG.

I like the internett cards. They usually are animated and are fun to watch. But I can’t keep them or hang them on the wall. I like receiving real cards in return. Sometimes they contain a short note telling me how things are going.  Some years I hang them on the arches. Some years, life is too busy. I like the pictures of the growing kids. I always keep the cards for at least a year. Many times the person who sent it goes home before the next Christmas. Then the card goes into my keep pile. Not only do I have their name, but a sample of their writing and perhaps a short note. Of course, the subject of the card, reflects the person too. Sadly, my keep stack gets bigger each year.

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IS THE MESSAGE GETTING THROUGH?

When I was writing To Pap, With Love, I had trouble sleeping past 4:oo AM. My father thought his brain worked better at that hour of the morning, and even though he was retired, he set his alarm clock to wake up. My aunt Connie agreed. She liked to be up that early. I DON’T AGREE! I think I need more sleep. To respond to this early morning wake up call, I wrote VOICES. A thought ramble in which “my friends” discussed waking me up, and keeping me up.

This morning, this idea popped into my head. I have discovered that if I verbally acknowledge that I have gotten the message, we can proceed onto other challenges.

Imagine if you will — a group of family members and friends on the other side, gathered for a morning meeting. I seem to be their favorite topic. Let’s listen in as I imagine their conversation.  Many voices are heard.

“Well, do you think she is paying attention?”
“I could hit here on the head! She would notice!”
“No! Give her a chance; she has been traveling so much she is tired.”
“She should be rested by now. She has been home for three weeks.”
“It took us two weeks to get her writing, posting things on her blog.”
“She only wrote because you had Bob (at restaurant, man carrying for mother with Alzheimer’s) remind her of how important it was to share her stories. She didn’t know we were behind the message.”
“But she started writing again. Mission accomplished!”
“I could bop her on the head!”
“I helped; I caused the books on the bookshelf to cascade.”
“So, she just straightened them out, removing a couple, making it harder to fall.”
“But she looked at the notebook. She was reminded of the website for purchasing pet angel ornaments.”
“It didn’t penetrate.”
“I could hit her on the head!”
“Is that your only idea?”
“It WORKS! She tries to think of what she is missing.”
“She posted THE CHRISTMAS TREE on the blog from last year. She read it first. She remembered Tidbit when she walked to the post office. I’m sure she will look for a new angel for the tree.”
“She isn’t exercising, losing weight!”
“I reminded her of her cookbooks, all the low fat recipes to try!”
“I guess we still have a job to do! At least she is aware of some of the messages we were trying to get through.”
“She has to KEEP WRITING. Tell her new stories. We can help!”
“We just have to keep trying.”
“She REALLY NEEDS our help!”
“I can always bop her on the head!”

After I wrote this thought ramble, I went to Joann Fabrics after some material. When I picked up the bolt of fabric, it bopped me on the nose. I laughed. Was someone listening? Did they like it?

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INTERESTING QUESTION

My husband and I stopped at a favorite restaurant for breakfast. It was Friday morning, we usually stopped on Saturday. We didn’t sit in our favorite spot, nor did we have our favorite waitress. In fact, the woman who served us was extremely busy with a party and we had extra time to enjoy our morning coffee.

A heavy-set gentleman, wearing dark glasses, walking with a cane, eased into the booth across from us. As my coffee cup emptied and we still hadn’t placed our order, I became a little impatient. I have been gifted with a loud voice that carries. Even when I try to speak softly, my voice still carries. One comment led to another, soon the gentleman across from us joined in the conversation. I think his name was Bob. He had taken disability pay a few years ago which enabled him to take care of his aging parents. His father had cancer and his mother had Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. I knew why we had met.

His father hadn’t lingered, passing away soon after being diagnosed with  cancer, his mother passed away in September, on the same day, four years later. His mother had been a handful and he missed her.

When I mentioned that my dad had Alzheimer’s, he asked me if I missed him. How did I handle the day-to-day when my life had been so involved in my father’s care? It was a question that made me pause. Dad has been gone over seventeen years, but he is still very active in my life. He let me know within three days that he was just fine on the other side. Although I didn’t see him or hear his voice, I was very aware that he was often present. It helped with my grieving.  In fact, because of Alzheimer’s declining stages, he was more present than when he was alive. It also helped that our youngest daughter suggested I write our story of living with my father as his health declined. My first book, To Pap, With Love, gradually was born, with the help of “my friends.”

Bob, who was a veteran from Vietnam told me that it helped him to share his experiences with others, and to hear their stories in return.  Confirmed — another reason for me to not only write but to share my life with others.

I don’t know why I have been gifted by help from the other side. Do I have a special job to do? When that thought crosses my mind, I could panic. But I believe that God is in charge. I have always gone to the president of the company when I was working. So I let the day-to-day in His hands and try not to worry about tomorrow.

We all have people and pets on the other side. If you are not aware of their presence, there can be many reasons why they are not active in your life. Or maybe they are and like my mother who was involved in mine undiscovered for more than 45 years, they might be so good at what they are doing, that you don’t notice. Maybe you are doing exactly what you need to and their direction isn’t needed.

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MESSAGES

I love music — all kinds — and plays — especially musicals. Monday morning I was alerted to a live performance in the Loop by Broadway in Chicago which was free. The main attraction was to be a puppet, the horse from War Horse.

Monday was a beautiful day. After too many days in the 90’s, temperature was forecast to be in the low 80’s. My husband and I took advantage of the cooler weather and toured Botanical gardens. The last time I was in the Garden was May — life and the hot summer intervened.  A family of swans traveled the lagoon. One parent in front, the other at the end, with three youngsters in the middle.

I’m sure it comes as no surprise when I mention that I talk to all animals, domestic and wild, including birds, butterflies and fish. I saw a single swan resting on a rock. Every few minutes, he needed to groom himself. I wanted a more dignified picture. I have to admit that I encouraged him to pose for a picture and he did.

Wandering on, I wanted to tour two more gardens. They both showed the effects of a hot summer. A woman shared that the garden looked much better that day, a month ago it was worse. A group of people with cameras caught my attention. I wondered what they were taking pictures of. I soon learned. A red tailed hawk rested on a branch of a tree, enjoying a snack. Did I talk to the hawk? Silly question, of course I did.

That evening, I journeyed downtown for the music. I was amazed at the realism of the horse puppet. Not only did it sound like a real horse, it moved like one. The music was good too.

That was going to be the end of this ramble. Until Friday. In the country, my husband and I wandered to a distant town for breakfast. We made it in time for the breakfast specials, biscuits and gravy for my husband. I don’t really like breakfast food. I chose a catfish fillet sandwich with clam chowder. I think I’ve mentioned that I’m sodium restricted. I knew that my choices were not the best, but thought the cooler temperature might let me fudge a bit. I only ate half of the clam chowder, then asked that it be removed.

My Floridian daughter phoned while I was waiting for my sandwich. When we were in Florida, she helped me watch my sodium intake. When I mentioned my food choice, she remarked that the breading had a lot of salt.  She was right. I had to remove at least half of the crunch. I mentioned her phone call to our waitress,
She said I must be on my daughter’s radar screen.

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TRANSLATION PLEASE

Just because I receive messages doesn’t mean that I understand their meaning. Case in point. Since I don’t have an intuition that speaks to me, I use many different tools to receive messages. One is a card deck titled THE ASCENDED MASTERS. Supposedly, they are all ascended beings of extreme talent that have passed over, that provide guidance to us still below. I’m often told to drink more water, or focus on my strengths. Four days in a row I drew the card that told me to GO NOW. Needless to say, I had no idea where I was supposed to go. No extra hints or messages were coming forth. I have drawn that card before when a trip was planned — either shopping, to the camper, or a trip of longer distance. I had plans to do neither. To say I was confused is an understatement.

This has been an extraordinary week. My youngest daughter’s mother-in-law is in the hospital for a pacemaker. My ex-son-in-law is in rehab for diabetes, tumor issues. My ex daughter-in-laws mother was in the hospital from issues stemming from diabetes. (She passed over on Sunday.) I just received word today that my middle daughter’s husband is in the hospital with chess pains. And my oldest daughter’s spouse is sick again. GO NOW!  Where exactly?

I became so frustrated, I shuffled the cards. I was advised to focus on my strengths. I  have been remiss on exercising.  My challenge is to heal the sore on my left leg, (still a painful issue, one step forward, two steps back,) and lose weight. Because of life, I haven’t been consist with exercise. Even though I eat healthy for the most part, sodium issues keep me honest, the pain adds an extra dimension to my life that I would happily discard.
I digress. The advise to GO NOW, became more understandable when my husband went to the camper without me on Sunday. Issues with Comcast, and an appointment, kept me in town.
While my husband was at the camper, the water heater connection over-heated, and melted. I’m not sure if that turned off the electric to our trailer or my husband’s desire to fix the problem caused the power outage. In either case, yesterday  he was able to connect the refrigerator to power and today, with the help of qualified service personnel the problem has been resolved.

Hopefully our Comcast problem has been fixed. More important, I’m trusting that all three of my son-in-laws, one an ex, will soon be recovered form their health problems. Enough friends in high places!
As for me, I will continue to do the best I can with each day. It might not be the best, but I’m trying!
When I mentioned the past couple of days to my oldest daughter, she advised me to write.  For a change, I listened.

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GIFTS

Do you think all gifts come in boxes or are wrapped with beautiful paper and tied with a bow?

Once upon a time, I might have thought that was how gifts were given. I have since learned that those types of gifts are only a very small part of the presents we receive. I have already mentioned the trouble I had printing a chapter from To Pap, With Love. I thought the problem was in the description of the party, it took a long time before I learned that we had received a present — the storm clouds moved on and we had a beautiful day.

Our grandchildren are visiting from Florida. Temperature in the city was forecast to reach 100 degrees — not the time to visit the zoo — air conditioned space was preferred. I have a senior membership at the Field Museum, but that would allow only two adults to enter. We received a gift that day, we had tickets available for Genghis Khan which enabled both of our grandchildren to enter. Our grandson had read about his life and was very interested in seeing the exhibit.

This is not the first time that our membership : aquarium, museum or zoo, has allowed our grandchildren to enter at no additional cost to us. I always say “Thank You!”

Talking about museums, my grandchildren mentioned they would like to visit the Museum of Science and Industry. I DON’T HAVE a membership there. I remembered that the Library has passes available for the various museums. Each time I have tried to borrow one, none has been available. That didn’t stop me from phoning. I learned one was on hand, the Librarian suggested I run over. Temperature at 105, no — running was not an option. I planned to walk until I saw a darkened sky. A short rain shower cooled the temperature for a few minutes. “THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!”

We DO NOT have central air conditioning in our house. It is over a hundred years old and would require too much money to have it installed. We have gradually added a couple of window units, one per floor, to keep the temperature liveable.

Fourth of July, temperature 101, 105 forecast for Thursday. A transformer on our block quit working at 7:00 PM. At 5:30 AM I heard a hum in one of our bedrooms, electric was back on. I said “THANK YOU”!

I was worried about our remaining pug — Lexie is fourteen, deaf and partially blind. The two footed occupants of our house could go to a store, the museum or the mall.  What would we do for Lexie? She would not be able to handle the heat. Thankfully the electric was back on.

Often something happens which alerts us to a bigger problem. Water on the floor, unexplained noise in the car — little things that point to a possible problem if we are alert. Even though they are inconveniences, slivers or blisters at the time, they have saved us from damage. Last year, our car needed ball joints that was discovered during a  routine checkup before a trip. Recently the car needed stabilizer links.  Noise brought the problem to our attention.

Last but not least lets not forget the many people: friends, neighbors, doctors, mechanics, store clerks and complete strangers that are often there when we need them.

Just some of the gifts that are given to us on a regular basis.  Do you notice? Do you say “Thanks!”

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ONE PLUS ONE = FOUR?

(Celebrating the life of our Chocolate Lab Mabel, who passed over July 16, 2011)

                 I think I pay attention to the various messages that come my way since I know I have friends in high places who “help me” with my life. Sometimes it is the words of a friend or an article in the newspaper or book, a segment on television, or a song on the radio that gives me needed information.  And sometimes one plus one doesn’t equal two.

Last Saturday, July 16,  we sent a friend home. Mabel  is a chocolate Lab. She was twelve years old. She suffered from many of the ailments that are common to the elderly: arthritis, cataracts and hip problems. She survived breast cancer but had trouble walking up the stairs and her breathing had become labored.  The heat of the summer, the eighties, had become hard for her. She had to rest after her walks before climbing the stairs. Then the weather service predicted five days in the 90’s. It didn’t seem fair to let her suffer through the heat.

Our family was without a dog for two weeks when Mabel came to join us as a six week old puppy.  The house was too quiet without Cuyler. He was a very expressive dog, but timid. We had decided to let him be king of the house when we sent his mate home. We weren’t prepared for the energy of a puppy. And Mabel had plenty of energy. One of her favorite games was to let me chase her as she ran with a favorite toy around the dining room table into the front of the house and back again. She thought she was a lap dog and didn’t realize that she out grew the lap. We shared her with Sue, our youngest daughter.

Mabel was very smart but she flunked obedience school. She knew what we wanted her to do but she didn’t see a reason to do it. And I sent her to time out in the kitchen. She had her own pillow to sit on and think about what she did wrong. She spent a lot of time on that pillow.

When Sue got married we continued to share Mabel. Some weeks she lived with us, others were spent with Sue and her husband. When Sue got pregnant, and was unable to clean up after Mabel, she stayed with us most of the time.

Mabel loved Christmas. She knew there was a present for her under the tree and waited patiently for us to give it to her, then unwrapped it all by herself.

She loved car rides, playmates, water games, ice cream and going camping. Our grandchildren sat on her. She wasn’t bothered by thunder until a blast went off above her head. From then on thunder and fireworks were not her friends. She climbed the stairs and lay on the floor by my husband’s side of the bed whenever it was noisy.

We didn’t think she would ever calm down. When she was three years old she started to show some sense. Then this winter we realized she was having trouble with her hip.

I was hoping she would spend the summer and fall with us but the hot weather changed our plans. After a picnic in the park, Sue and her husband took her to the vet in their SUV.

ONE: Friday, July 15th, the heat had arrived when I received word that Marion, a friend at our campground, had passed. It was a surprise but I knew she had heart problems.

TWO: Saturday, July 16, Sue’s husband is a doctor and he commented that Mabel’s heavy breathing was an indication of heart problems.

THREE: Wednesday, July 20, the morning news concentrated on the heat, precautions to take and the warning that the excessive heat caused a person’s heart to work 30% more.

I was scheduled to have lunch with an 85-year-old friend, who had problems with her heart.  Dorothy wanted to go out but I was concerned for her safety and managed to persuade her to have lunch delivered and we would eat in the comfort of her home. When I drove home from her house the outside temperature of our car was 104.

I kept telling myself that sending Mabel home was for the best.  And I really believe it but I miss our girl.

Friday, July 22, my husband and I had breakfast at our neighborhood restaurant before running some errands. He keeps his feeling to himself but mentioned that he misses Mabel too.

Our last errand took us to Costco. I was happy to see that their gas station had opened and I walked over to investigate. When I approached the pumps, I recognized our neighbor, Ava. As she pumped gas, I told her about our decision to send Mabel home. She had seen us out for morning walks and was aware of her labored breathing. Ava is a doctor and mentioned that Mabel could have had a heart attack when we were walking her.

One plus one = four, this time I got the message.

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WALKING TO A DIFFERENT DRUMMER

Is that a photo of a toilet seat? Why? Yes it is, and I have included it because one very similar, fell off the top rack in a big box store and hit me on the head. No, I’m not kidding! I had a beautiful goose egg on my forehead for over a month and my eyes were very colorful — color changed daily.

It has taken many years but I have finally acknowledged that I walk to a different drummer. No, I’m not psychic, nor do I have communication with my intuition or guiding spirits. When I attend a guided meditation, I sit there with closed eyes and everyone else wanders to a lovely place, while I remain sitting there. A friend referred to me as chopped liver. I have been told that I have talents that I’m not using. And that may be true, but I haven’t developed them yet. Every once in a while I’m gifted with a prophetic dream or third eye vision. They are few and far between but I try to pay attention.

I’m aware that I have friends in high places that “help me” on a daily basis. Sometimes I’m aware of their help, many times they operate in the background without my knowledge.

Twice a year, I enjoy going to the Mind, Body, Spirit Expo. And that is where this story actually begins. Bluehawk Stec, who is very gifted at channeling the Ascended Masters, conducted a workshop. We were invited to ask questions of the Hawaiian Master. I decided to pass, I didn’t want to hear the answer. That was Sunday.

Monday, a beautiful summer day, I drove around town doing errands. I was very happy, moving right along, only a few more stops to make when I stopped to buy a new toilet seat. The toilet seat on the shelf above, fell down and hit me above my eye. (I had not jostled it or in any way disturbed it.) Immediately I went to customer service and asked if they had any ice. NO! My head was already swelling, they wanted to call an ambulance. I didn’t have a headache nor was I dizzy. I decided to go to the grocery store across the street. I promised I would return if I felt dizzy.

At the grocery store, I bought a frozen bag of peas and attached it to my head with a bandana. Then I went to the warehouse store. Since I’m a regular visitor, many enjoyed the spectacle that was me, walking around with peas on my head. Of course, I told them all my story. One asked what I was sitting on the pot about.

Of course, I have had experience being hit on the head by many things. Nothing as serious as the toilet seat.  I wondered if it was “my friends.” I wouldn’t put it passed them.

This year I asked the question at the Mind, Body, Spirit Expo and received the answer I knew I would get. “Yes, you know you  need to write another book!”

I solemnly promised family and friends that if I’m ever serious injured again, I will not refuse assistance.

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Some Lessons Are Hard To Learn

Just because I have friends in high places doesn’t mean that my life is easy. If I listened — but many years ago I must have stopped, because they don’t speak to me — life might be easier. As it is I muddle through, looking for hints, and guidance from various means. When an important message is trying to get through, it is repeated many times until I understand. It helps if I verbally say thank you or in some form acknowledge that I understand. Sometimes I even get physically hit on the head by cascading stuff from the freezer, or tree branches, or doors or car trunks. The ultimate was a toilet seat but that is a future story.

As I sit writing this thought ramble, I know that “someone is helping.” The font has already changed sizes. Computers were not a household item when my father was alive. A printer by trade, he complied a list for solving puzzles using a typewriter. I’ve heard that my mother was a court stenographer. I have not inherited that talent. If I had to write a book on a typewriter, it would NEVER have made it into print. First off, I flunked typing, second, my typing is atrocious. I might get ten words a minute with five errors.  I have to look at the keys.  (Laugh with me, that sentence was just italicized but I fixed it.)

Each chapter in both books went through many rewrites.  Believe me when I say that manually on a typewriter it NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!

While I learned to write our story on the computer, THEY HELPED!! It might be a change in font, or the computer would freeze or everything I wrote might just be deleted. After a while I learned that sometimes, what I was thinking was not part of the story. Sometimes a different message was trying to get through. I can’t tell you how many times I rewrote a story about a first communion party at my second daughter’s house for To Pap, With Love.  I think it was the fourth chapter, it was a cute story and I WANTED TO KEEP IT! Each time I printed that chapter the printer stopped at the party. When I FINALLY RECEIVED AND ACKNOWLEDGED the MESSAGE the chapter printed with no problem.

What was the message you might ask? We received a present that day–  a beautiful day.

With their “help” I got sidetracked.  Back to my original thought.

Recently I read a question in one of the magazines or books that cross my path.  It asked the reader to list 10 people that where important in their life. I wrote out my list. Then a few pages forward, it asked where on the list I was. Would you believe, I wasn’t on there at all.

I wish I could say that after that bit of enlightenment I’m now on my list. NOPE! But I’m trying. I’m sodium restricted which has made a HUGE change in my diet. If I have too much sodium, my ankles swell and walking becomes painful. A job from hell (more about that later) caused circulation problems. I’m not diabetic, nor do I think I have heart problems but I get sores on one of my legs that don’t want to heal. I’m overweight — try as I might — my fat loves me. Therefore, I have to remember when I’m in the store, to  buy foods that I can eat too. I’m sure it will come as no surprise when I say that most of the food I can eat, my husband prefers not to.  Most of what he likes, I can’t eat.

I’m trying to be on my list, are you on yours?

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Mother’s Day

Our plans for Mother’s Day this year changed in a heartbeat when my youngest daughter’s mother-in-law wound up in the hospital. Sue had planned to spend their anniversary and Mother’s Day in their home in Central Illinois. Instead, they travelled to Chicago with their two children and two puppies to spend the weekend at our house. While we watched their children, not only were they able to visit in the hospital,  they were able to go out for dinner and a play to celebrate their anniversary. Then three mothers were able to spend Mother’s day with their children.

Our house was no longer quiet. Our kitchen was busy, more seats were occupied at the table. We were able to take our grandchildren — three and six  — to Lincoln Park Zoo. After they returned home and quiet returned to our house I realized what a great present I received — busy, I felt like a mother. Thank you!

The next weekend, I got another surprise. Shopping at Walmart in Dixon, IL. I spotted a beautiful long dress whose colors reminded me of a peace rose. Of course, I had to look at it. It was on clearance, the only one like it on the rack and close to my size.  I had to buy it.  It fit. Happy Mother’s Day!

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