Healingsonghome

"I'll have aMcMoment please?' Part two

2009-08-08T14:06:00.000-07:00

So, anyway, fast forward about a week. Our pastor of Christian Education was doing the announcements at church and he had a McMoment of his own to tell.

He and his wife Wanda had gone to McDonalds to eat a "Healthy" breakfast. While they were there, they saw this older guy come in and order a cup of coffee. He was on his cell phone talking to some people.

At first, Pastor Mike thought he was talking about models of planes. Then, it became obvious to him after a while, that what he was doing, was trying to help help bring the plane down. Pastor Mike and his wife stayed past the time they had intended, because they wanted to know the end of the story.

It turns out the couple was flying with their children on their way somewhere from Canada, when the husband past out over the controls. The guy was an on call airplane specialist. They called him while he was driving, and he pulled into the McDonalds and bought a cup of coffee while he helped the people via phone. What a story!

It pays to be there to pray for peple while they go through times like that.

I'll have a McMoment, please?

2009-08-05T20:39:00.000-07:00

I know. Fast Food is not healthy for you. However, what happens inside some of those places is.

I don't know how many times I've gotten the post about the woman who feeds the two homeless men breakfast, or the one about the guy walking around the country with Bibles to hand out, or the children who order ice cream after the little boy prays for his mother to do so. Who knows whether any of those stories are true. However, most of the time, when you go into one of those places, you see way too many people behaving badly.

Whenever I'm on worship team between the months of September and July, Bert and I are invariably seen cutting out of the church parking lot after worship team rehearsal and going to one of the fast food places to grab breakfast before church. We've been frequenting the McDonalds by the church more and more of late.

About a month ago, we went into McDonalds, bought our meal, sat down, blest the meal before we began to eat and began talking about the mundane things that had been happening through the week. Suddenly, one of the counter help came over and told us what a blessing we were to her and the other Christians who work there on Sunday, because we came through the line and treated everyone decently and then prayed over our meal. She said that a lot of times, they see people coming through the line behaving so badly and then praying over their meal. How sad!

We walked out of there, more determined than we had been before to always display that servan'ts attitude. I like how in "The Traveler's Gift" Andy Andrews has King Soloman point out the obvious that when you treat someone with the attitude of a servant, you truly will become a king. But, when you start treating people like you own them, you will lose your position of power. May I always remember the importance of treating people always with kindness.

Continued...

been a while

2009-07-11T21:42:00.000-07:00

I know I have not done a post in a very long time. At least, it seems like nearly five months is a long time. (Smile)

The truth is, I haven't felt very creative until lately, and I really have not had the urge to work on blogging for a while, until recently.

I'm still working. What with all the changes that are going on in the economy, I'm afraid I might not make enough to actually pay taxes this year, because expenses are what they have to be , still there, and massage clients for a while were where they had to be, nearly non-existent except for regulars and a few new ones.

Bert is still working at Charlie's Pub and Grill, though lately, I've begun to pray that God would get him out of there. The hours are crappy for a number of reasons. First of all, he's only working approximately twenty-five to thirty hours a week. Secondly, they're night time hours, which means we're not doing as much musically. But, that's okay. I think I needed a break from doing much musically for a while. I'm believeing gigs will pick up again, once life gets back to a normal routine.

We finished getting what we could from Mom's estate in May. Plenty of pottery, artwork, and of course all the music that no one wanted. Thus, my music colection has drastically expanded.

This year, we finally purchased our tandem bike that we had been meaning to purchase and couldn't last year, due to none being available. Apparently, companies that make tandem bikes, only make a certain amount to be sold each year. More's the pitty. I think more husbands and wives could learn about the art of communicating if they had a bike.

Anyway, this is just a general catch up note to say, I'm back to doing this on a regular basis. Thanks for dropping by.

The heart of an American

2009-02-13T16:58:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I wrote anything. But, a lot of the reason I have not written has to do with just not feeling like I had anything to say. It's been hard for me to write anything.

Work is at a standstill. I don't know if it has to do with me running out of ideas to advertise for massage, my website being down or just what everyone wants to blame it on... The Economy, president Obama's stimulus package, everyone worried about their jobs.

Bert is working hard at Charlie's, whatever hours they can give him. He has not been able to find another job to supplement what he is making there. If we still didn't have enough money from what's left of Mom's estate, we would have to worry about losing our home. But, for a little while, we're secure that way. But, how much time do we still have to borrow from?

I fear for my country. Every time I turn around, it seems like a little more of our liberty is being chipped away before our very eyes. And, while I can thank God for every blessing I receive, I find myself asking how much time do we have left before He pours his wrath out on our nation? My prayer is that we as a people would gather together and drop to our knees to pray for our country.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-25T11:00:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe that Thanksgiving is only two days away. Yet, this year has been a year of lots of blessings, and yet...

When I think about my husband losing his job and then everything we have endured since, I'm amazed that I can still find it in my heart to do what I can for others. I know that only can be from the Grace of God, nothing else.

At the hearing Vista Grande Villa felt Bert needed to have to stop his unemployment benefits, all matter of accusations were made aginst him. While there are those who feel Bert should fight it, I don't happen to be one of them. Sitting there, listening to what people had to say about him, my heart broke. I realize there are those who probably think I'm being a coward by suggesting that my husband not fight it. But, I watched him walk out of the hearing room, barely able to stand, because it had taken him every inch of courage to be calm, I realized that if he won, it would have to be by the Grace of God. Yet, I knew God had a purposed in that room, though I was not sure of what that purpose was. I'm still not. But, God is.

Bert has been denied unemployment and has thirty days to appeal it. But, I'm concerned that if he did fight it, he would lose more than he has. I'm not sure the self-respect he had never truly felt until recently would still be there. I'm not sure his faith in Christ would be the same should he fight this. It could mean we will have to pay it back. But, I'm believing that whatever MESC's decision, we will be okay. For that matter, I'm not so sure it would be good for me to fight this again.

I'm finding that each day since Saturday, I wake up with the attitude of reaching out to be a blessing to those around something I have always felt to be important. Yet, I have not always acted on it. If we don't tithe our blessings, or love and our God given grace, then how do we expect God to pay us back fully?

On Sunday morning, a woman sat next to us in Sunday School, afraid that she might not find some support in our church. She said that she was not sure why she felt it necessary to sit with us and to reach out for support. I told her that I would love to pray with her and spend some time with her. God used her to bless us with a book Bert wanted and a gift certificate for me to purchase another book for myself. Not sure what I will purchase, though I have some ideas.

This morning, I called a client of mine who meant something to me to wish him a Happy Thanksgiving. He appologized to me for not coming for appointments, since he has been having some trouble with his son's spending cutting into his own. It was a blessing to talk to him.''After that, I was sitting in my office reading my Daily Bread when the man came to my door who was plowing the snow that had fallen outside. He told me that he remembered who I was and asked if it was me who had written "Peace Be Still". My original title for that song is "The Boat Song". He said that he had enjoyed hearing me singing when I came with Kelly to the cofeehouse where we played. This confirmed in me that I am doing what I can for God and that he will make sure I receive payment for such, whether it be financially or spiritually.

As we approach this Thanksgiving, we aare in one of the economically poor times all over the world. We should realize that the blessings we can bring to others will bring peace to a troubled heart, maybe more than one. Let us remember that it is important for us to raise the song of harvest home in our hearts and give to others what we can from our store of blessings, just like the Pilgrims and Native Americans did with and for each other.

Happy Thanksgiving.

More on Bert and other stuff

2008-11-13T12:51:00.001-08:00

Now that the piano is moved here into the house, I am enjoying sitting at it and playing songs whenever I can.

It's hard to believe that I've had a blog for nearly a year. The last couple of months, I have not posted much. But, it has not been because I don't want to. Life has gotten in the way.

I have managed to keep busy on the days that I've worked at the office. I ahve not had less than two massages a day, each day that I've worked accept for a couple of days here and there. I'm grateful to have my massage chair, even though I don't use it every day. I'll go in spurts where I'll have a lot of appointments that require it and then have long dry spells where I'll only have massages that require the table.

Bert is still working at Charlie's Pub and Grill. However, the guy who hired him is gone. They fired him on Saturday. The blessing of that is that Bert all of as sudden has more hours.

Next week, unless things work out differently, he will have to appear before an arbitrator at Michigan Works for a re-determination hearing. Apparently, Vista Grande Villa filed for a hearing and they got it. He's worried about it, though the advocate he found on Monday and the lawyers he talked to said that there is nothing to worry about.

The other day, I actually asked a friend if I was losing my mind, because I am not worried about how things will go. He told me that no, I don't have to worry.

I thank God that all is well.

We enjoyed turkey dinner this afternoonand as I ate, I found myself thinking how we were celebrating Thanksgiving early. I am so thankful that God is watching over both of us and our cats.

Some would say we don't have a lot to be thankful for, since the election did not go the way of the conservative vobe. But, we can be thankful for the roof over our heads, the blessings we experience in just living out each day.

A day of mourning

2008-11-05T08:37:00.000-08:00

Well, it looks like our country has become a nation of hypocrites and blind guides.

I remember talking with one of my friends who is an African American anda driver for our local transportation agency.. This man is a conservative and a Christian. When I heard him praising Mr. Obamma, my blood ran cold. I asked him if he realized what he was saying, that he would be leading other Christians he comes in contact with astray by his lauding the praises of someone who is a murderer of the unborn, a supporter of the pro homosexual agenda, oh and a supporter of a universal health care/socialistic medicine agenda. His response was that he felt he would do better than anyone who would follow Bush's lead from the past eight years.

This is not the first person I spoke to who esspoused such views. It's also not the first former leadership position person from a church that I heard say such things.

You say you follow the cross of Christ? Well, how can you say you're pro life, yet vote for someone who would insist on socialized abortions? Oh, and you helped support a proposal for the harvesting of embryonic stem cells here in Michigan, which tells me you're not as pro life as you claim to be. Away from me you hypocrites!

You say you're antihomosexual? Yet, you voted someone into office who supports such a pro homosexual agenda.

You say you want to protect our children from drugs and other harmful substances? Well, you voted for the legalization of medical Marijuana here in Michigan. How can you be sure that your friends who are growing weed are not growing it to sell to others, even though they say they're growing it for medical purposes?

You say that this man will have a good health care package in place? Not exactly. Everyting about you will be put on a little strip on a universal health card, if Mr. Obamma has his way, and don't think that your life as a disabled person is safe. Maybe not Mr. Obamma. But, some president in the near future, as he will have the building blocks in place, may decide that you're useless to society, thus ask that your life be terminated.

I will pray for you, because in doing this, you have gone against the Bible and against God. I don't know how many of you were dicieved by such a false prophet, and Obamma is that. But, you have defiled my country and my faith. Read the book of Daniel and then tell me how it is you could have willingly done so.

Feels more like home

2008-10-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

Well, my house after eight years now feels complete. On Saturday, my piano arrived. It has always been my piano, regardless of the fact Mom owned it. That piano was the one I practiced on as a child, composed songs on as a kid, sang around with some of my friends, while Mom played song after song.

When I had bought my stage piano keyboard with her help about six years ago, Mom said that I probably would not want my piano. I just smiled.

Well, now I have my piano. Bert has been working on giving it a polish coat, bringing out the true outer beauty of the instrument.

I'm sure that Patrick, my piano is happy to finally be where he will be played more often. For years he sat up in Mom's upstairs apartment and rarely got played, except when I came home or when Mom had a notion to play. I plan on spending some quality time at my piano, playing songs. More importantly, playing the old songs Mom used to play

Mom'shands

2008-10-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems as if Mom's hands are still on my life. But, that's in ways that are positive.

Most days, since we sorted through the jewelry, I wear a piece of her jewelry to remind me of her presence. My favorite is a hand made of silver. I love wearing that around my neck. It fits with everything I do with my hands for a living.

Today, I went clothes shopping with some of the money I inherited. I needed a new winter wardrobe, since most of my winter stuff either no longer fits, or is getting worn. I bought stuff she would have been proud of me buying, and yet, I did it in one fourth the time she would have done it, and I bought stuff she normally would not buy for me. I could hear her laughing at me from wherever she is.

Now I'll begin the process of taking summer clothes and hanging them upstairs and putting my new winter stuff away, something I've never done before. But, then again, I don't think I've bought five or six outfits at a time on my own with the help of my client Andrea who owns the resale shop I went to.

Saturday, we will have moved my keyboard and made room for the piano, Mom's favorite instrument for venting. Mine too, if the truth be told.

Her hands are everywhere here. So, why is it, I can't heed her voice tellingme me to pick stuff up? Lol.

Home

2008-10-10T22:21:00.000-07:00

Fall always makes me feel like I'm coming home. Maybe it's because so many transitions in my life took place during this time. I have always loved the brisk air, the anticipation of school, clients that are new, the taste of cider or freshly picked apples. I love cider doughnuts, pumpkin and apple pie, toasted pumpkin seeds, the smell of leaves burning, brisk walks and singing around bonfires.

So, why do I live in a city, where so little of that exists? When I figure out the answer to that one, maybe I'll understand better what is going on with me.

Fall is also the beginning of church choir and for our first song, we're doing one called "Going Home". It's an old sacred harp song. (Thank God, James doesn't conduct it at the tempo most of those groups do.)

So, I'm going home to more transitions, to more change, to more mountains and valleys, most of which take place in Autumn.

Been a While...

2008-09-21T22:21:00.000-07:00

It's been tough to find time to post lately, or at least since I last posted.

I'm not saying I was busy with stuff. But, what with work picking up the past two months, and getting back into reading, working on the computer has not really been something I've wanted to do. I'm feeling a need to get back into this again though.

We celebrated our fifteenth anniversary on September 11. It was a good day. We went out to lunch after getting a pedicure and enjoyed each other's company.

I finnaly started going through Mom's stuff with some of my other family members, and it looks like the piano will be moved from her house to mine in the next few weeks. I'll post more on some of that stuff in the next few days as well. I just thought I'd let my blog family know I am alive and I'm okay.

adjustments

2008-07-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

It's been two weeks since Bert was hired at Charlie's Pub and Grill. His first week, he only worked three days, only because we had been schedule to perform on Friday at a church in Union City for a substantial sum, and there was no way he was willing to cancel the show in order for him to work, though the cook there wanted him to work that day originally. Bert made it clear that we had the performance to do, and he also made sure they knew hew was uncomfortable working there on their busiest day of the week after only three days of work.

Last week, he worked one day more, only because they were closed for the Fourth of July weekend. That was fine for us, as it enabled us to go to the Air show. (I'll get back to the air show in a bit, as I have something to share from that.)

Yesterday, day two of week three, Bert was asked by the owner if he was ready to move over to the other restaurant he is buying to work in the mornings. He will work a mix of days between the two restaurants, and while I have my misgivings about it, I'm seeing a much happier Bert than I've seen in years. He's been cultivating a positive mental attitude, which is great. He was telling me the outline of a schedule he hoped they would give him. I told him to go into the talk with the owner with that schedule outline in mind and I told him to not back down from the schedule outline he wanted.

He told me that the owner wants to pay im cash for the days that he works at the other restaurant, (something about too many employees on the books there). Again, I'm not sure that is a good thing, as that would mean he would have to withold taxes on his own and send them in at the end of the quarter or the end of the eyar. Plus, I think that would in a sense make him a contractual employee, which legally the owner of the restaurant cannot do, as he had been originally hired as an employee.

While my husband is sailing through the adjustments for his work without much in the way of fuss, I'm having problems at work. I'm not having the amount of work I'm used to, and that has a lot to do with regulars canceling appointments for various reasons. One of my clients has canceled due to econmic problems of his own making. But, the others have all had problems crop up with family or work. It's not that it's happening that bothers me. It's that it's happening all at once. I'm having to believe that it's all going to work out and I'll have a new crop of regulars and that some of the older ones will come back. But, there are times when I find myself asking why it is I have to go through this at the same time that Bert needs me to be strong for him.

Fortunately, it's a beautiful sunny day as I write this, and I can feel the sun shining through my open window. That causes me to believe that everything is going to be just fine.

Watching the Thunderbirdz fly, I was reminded that this is a time of adjustments for so many people. Here wee were, watching men and women sacrificing everything for their country and flying to express to us the dedication they have for the freedoms we share in. I cannot imagine the families of service people's mixture of pride and fear they have for their children, their loved ones. The Thunderbirds were the last to fly. Yet, every military team there and every vintage military aircraft team dedicated a pass to the fighting men and women in Iraq and elsewhere.

It's strange to think how we all feel our adjustments are so much bigger than everyone else's. Yet, we all have the choice to either fly like majestic planes or eagles, or to crash land, giving way to our fears. I choose to fly. It is my destiny to do so.

I'm still around

2008-06-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

I haven't felt much like posting. I've seen friends of mine go for nearly as long without saying anything new on their blogs. But, I wanted to wait and see if I would hear anything with regards to Bert's employment status before I wrote anything.

Bert is still looking, though he's looking for jobs other than cook jobs right now, though that is his passion. He's believing that whatever he can find will be an improvement on what he went through at Vista Grande Villa, and with the attitude he's taking on, I believe that he may be right. He's also been reading his Bible every day and we've been going through "Mastering the Seven Decisions" by Andy Andrews. But, I can't help but feel there's something more we need to be doing. Just what that is, I don't know. Prayer is definitely also in the cards.

I think I'm the one who really needed an attitude change the past couple of weeks. I've been encouraging Bert to continue on and telling him he's making the right choices. But, I have not been feeling strong, or that is, I believed I was not as strong as I made myself out to be. I've come to the conclusion how wrong I was. Every time I've ever said I'm not that strong, God always seems to point out to me, that my strength is knowing when I need to lean on Him or on those around me for support. I actually rememver saying to someone recently, "I don't feel strong enough to go on" and yet, I'm still here. So, if I'm still here, I am strong enough.

I've been dealing with family stuff as well. That won't stop, until we can get together to clean out the house and once we've liquidated Mom's stocks, etc. I don't know whether it's fortunate or not. However, were it not for her and how she provided for all of us kids, we might not have our house still and the bills would not continue to be paid here. It is going to get better though. i know it is!

Update Update

2008-06-04T06:38:00.000-07:00

Bert is looking for jobs and getting trained on the computer. I'm enjoying him being home. But, I'm beginning to wish I had my old routine back. There's a part of me who wishes she didn't have to be strong, she didn't have to go through the studying we're doing, only a small part. But, that's enough to be an annoyance. I am finding it hard to actually keep up with the new schedule while he's looking forwork. However, this too will pass.

Bert said that the best interview he has ever had was yesterday. It was at a pub where cooking from scratch is an important part of their reputation. He has longed to work in such a place. The executive chef who interviewed him actually affirmed Bert, told him he ws an okay person and that he would keep him in mind, even for private parties. Between that and learning computers at Michigan Works, he's doing quite well.

My prayer partner wanted to know why it was Bert and I weren't at an open house the Saturday before Memorial Day. When I told her that I had had to work,s he said that I could have made it after work. I pointed out to her that after doing four massages, I really don't want to go anywhere except to dinner and then home. She acted likeI should have dropped everything and just come anyway. That was two days after Bert had been suspended. I couldn't think coherently, much less between working and trying to pull Bert together, I really didn't want to be around others. Is it really hard for people to understand?

I will get through this. But, people act like life must go on and I know it will. It's just that until Bert finds a job, I need to continue to be a source of strength for him and try to mange the rest of my routine as best I can. I thank those of you reading this for your support.

Bert's continuing Journey

2008-05-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

I'm listening to the project known as "The Covenant". It was one of several CDs that came out as a tribute to Oswald Chambers for his book "My Upmost For His Highest." Often, this particular CD helped me get through hard times. I've had it for eleven years, and it's one I keep returning to.

You ask why I refer to this CD in this post. It's because I know we have hard times ahead. As of today, Bert is no longer working at Vista Grande Villa, and while I'm relieved that I won't have to see him in a presure cooker situation anymore, and while I know God is going to take care of us, and I know that the last time this happened, we only waited about a month before he was hired, there's a bit of anxiety there.

Yes, Bert was fired. The last time he was without work was shortly after we moved here. But, it only took him a month to find a job that was the right fit for him at the time, the job at Vista.

Nearly every guy who has worked in the department Bert worked in, (The dietary department) has locked horns with both the supervisor and her assistant at one time or another. Bert tooke it too far. But, I believe it's only a matter of time, before everyone who worked with Bert there is gone from that place. The main kitchen there was cooking the meals for five different dining establishments as part of the same complex for senior citizens. They had a main dining room, a nursing home dining room, a special dining room, an assisted living center and a cafe all the food for which was being cooked by a crew of three men, (one of which was Bert) and a variety of assistants, none of who stayed very long, except the dessert person. Every one of them was coming in anywhere from a half hour to an hour and a half early and leaving at least half an hour late, several times a month.

The supervisor has a degree in dietary management. Her assistant who is the coordinator for hospitality was a manager at Best Buy with no prior kitchen experience. Yet, she was doing most of the stuff the supervisor had been doing.

On Thursday, she came in and told Bert that he needed to clean the hold oven, as there was a drip line of grease on it from the corned beef. Bert said that he would clean it once the beef was done, as it would be easier to clean it all at once. She told him that was okay and then went and got someone else to do the job. He says that maybe now what he should have done was go ahead and clean it. After the beef was done, he was getting ready to clean it when this lady came in and told him that it needed cleaning again, and that someone had had to do it for him the last time. That's when he lost his temper, thus his being suspended, thus his being fired. In the meeting where they told him he was suspended, his supervisor came up with a lot of trumped up charges against him with no written record of them for him to see. She also told him that every evaluation for the past ten years, after he had gone to anger management counseling, mentioned incidents of him being angry. (That I know is a lie, because he told me about four of the past ten, which were all good. But, I also know that his evaluations for the past five years have never been seen by him and signed off on by him.)

I don't excuse my husband, though for the past year, I have watched him become more and more disenchanted with working there. He should have started looking then. But, he felt he should try to stick it out.

Do I think anger management counseling would have helped. Maybe. However, I think it would have been better for him to actually choose his own counselor as he's now thinking of doing.

It's through this that we're finding out who our friends are. Carolyn, who has stood by us the whole time we lived in Jackson said that she would be a personal reference for any jobs he applies for, as did my friend May when he decided he would go to the hospital where she works. Others have asked if there was anything else they could do besides praying. I think my one client might volunteer his services to Bert as a counselor or mentor, if you will, as he had gone through a lot of the same stuff and he was a counseling administrator before deciding to work for himself.

This seems to be the time when people are preparing for something that is going to happen, and in doing so major changes are going on in their lives. My friend and fellow Blogger Tom C. is going through his own struggle. I'm learning how to use new techniques that will help benefit my business and deciding what activities I will discontinue. Bert is facing looking for a job at fifty-seven and not sure he'll find it. But, he's so glad to be out of that place where he had been. There are other people I know who are going through major changes. Yet, each person who is facing those changes is accepting them. A lot of us are trying to use the Seven Decisions talked about in the Traveler's Gift. It's not easy to do. But, to persist without exception is to survive, and my husband will survive.

Bert'sday

2008-05-22T16:43:00.000-07:00

Strange how I feel today like this is just the beginning of the end of a long, bitter fight in my husband's life. And yet, I've seen it happening for some time to come.

Today, Bert got suspended for losing his temper at work. I don't know all the details. Nor do I want to know. The strange thing wasfor me, I felt myself tense up and then realize, I needed to get myself grounded, so that I could go do chair massage at Consumers Energy.

I was washing my hair at the sink when Bert came in and told me and his sister that he had been suspended, since I was originally going to go get a haircut today and then realized my time was not going to be as free as I needed it to be to do that.

I told his sister that I needed to get myself grounded in order to go to work in an hour. She asked if she should leave. I told her no, that she should stay and talk to Bert, while I took care of that.

I had dunked myself in oils trying to get my new diffuser to work. So, I was grounded that way. But, I needed to hear a voice, any one of three would do.

(Tom, if you're reading this after hearing your message from me, please know I only did that for grounding purposes. You sent warm messages my way throughout my work time, and I knew they were from you. Thank you.)

When I could not get hold of tom, I called Ryan and Rainee, hoping for once Ryan would answer. God made sure of it. When I asked Ryan to pray, he immediately told me that he would, that he had suspected this was going to happen and that he would make sure our lists knew about it.

The third person I would have called was Larry, a friend from way back in first grade, who would have known exactly what I needed. Yet, talking to Ryan had taken care of that.

Throughout my work time today at Consumers, I was amazed at how calm and centered I was. Nearly all of the people I worked on wanted silence, which gave me more time to keep praying for Bert.

Tonight, he went so far as to say maybe he was just one person who could not learn from repeated patterns of behavior that crop up. That's when I found myself saying the seven decisions from the Traveler's Gift. He burst into tears, when I told him that he needed to greet each day with forgiveness by forgiving himself.

Right now, he's reading "The Traveler's Gift" as I type. I had bought him the book two years ago and told him how good it was, had even told him about my own experiences with it. But now, he's having to rely on reading it himself.

This is one particular journey which while it will effect me, I cannot take with Bert. He has to take the emotional journey of finding out about himself alone. I can be there. But, I cannot possibly comprehend what is going on inside his mind.

Please any and all of you, pray for Bert, and pray in particular that he'll look at whatever life's lesson is and prevail this time. I'm not saying this for me, as I personally feel blest and honored that God would put me in his life to be his helpmate in showing him the tools. But, I am asking for him. I cannot imagine living trapped in so much self-directed anger, bitterness and unforgiveness, as I've seen him carry at one time and yet have him be one of the sweetest people I've ever known..

Iwon

2008-05-13T15:15:00.000-07:00

So, I walked into our Business Networkin meeting this morning, anticipating Carrie our vice-president's special award ceremony for the notable Networker for the month of April. I figured it was going to be the same people it had always been who had won awards.

Carrie made all of us stand, as if to recognize all of us.

Suddenly, I was being called to the front for third place! I? Wone Third? Me? Cool!

John, my sponsor in BNI won second and another guy named Ted one first. But, to me, that third place award was like holding a first place trophey.

I had been looking for more ways to give referrals in BNI, hoping for just such an opportunity. I didn't realize I would get the third most referrals as a result of needing home repairs. But, there it was a third place.

So, why do I want mmore? Why is it I want first, before this six month term is up?

I think it has a lot to do with almost always placing second or third. Yet, every time I placed, it felt like a win.

I remember when I ran across the finishline and while placing in third in the 600 meeter, it felt like a first, because I had beaten my best time. That was in my eight grade year. I remember while not winning in the regional the following year, I felt good, because I again had beaten my best time. To me, that was a win.

In looking back at the time I ran with Tom in our class tournament, I can honestly say that felt like a win, because in running that race, I was winning back my own pride and self-respect.

I remember winning a second place in Forensics for reading "The Cat And The Pain Killer" by Mark Twain, in the reading category. I won our school's only medal in the three years I tried in Forensics. Oh, the school prized me on that one. I was the golden star. (Again, that was my eighth grade year.)

I remember placing first in the junior totals division of down hill skiing for the blind when I was a freshman in high school. Todd Gilbert (who also attended Michigan School for the Blind) was pissed, because he didn't win in the other junior category, and I remember him making fun of me in English class with regards to that. I remember him leaving shortly after that incident, and thinking that the school was better off without him. While I did not win, (as that was the time I blew out my right knee), I was still made to feel like I was a winner for even trying. Years later, when I raced against myself in a crous country ski event, I remember feeling like a winner, because I had beaten my best time and beaten the odds with my knee.

I remember trying out for a part in a couple of different plays in high school when I moved to Massachusetts and getting the parts that while minor were pivotal to the plot. Thus to me, those felt like wins.

I remember when I received my letter of congratulations for being accepted into Interlochen for my senior year. I remember feeling like a dream come true had just happened for me, thus like a winner.

I've always competed mainly against myself, and every time I accomplish something, it feels like a win. So, when will I win first place in BNI? In my heart, I already have.

Believe in myself

2008-05-07T20:32:00.000-07:00

Maybe that sounds selfish to believe in myself. But, I'm finding more and more that if I believe it can happen, it will. It's truly wonderful, as I work in essential oils, to go back and re-learn the lessons I learned as a teen, when I relied on myself so much more than I realized even then.

I remember running track my freshman year at MSB. Often were the days whe I would say to myself, "I will run faster. I will achieve what I'm supposed to." When I talked to myself that way, I did run faster. That's why I was amazed when I won the award for most dedicated in track that year. But, I should not have been, because I had given myself those pep talks to keep me going.

I remember when I was a junior in high school, and I was participating in a madrigal dinner playing in an ensemble with one other recorder player, a violinist, a guy on an oboe and a girl on cello and another on the harpsichord. I came down with the flu and was puking one half hour before Mom was supposed to take me to the concert. She said to me, "If you want to stay home..." And I looked at her, like "Are you nuts? I didn't learn all this music not to perform it", and we went.

I remember another time, when I was in the year where I had been held back. My Mom was coming back from a trip to Arizona on the night I wanted to attend a concert that several of my friends were in. I called one of them, and she called to tell me that she would pick me up. I decided that if I was going to go to the concert, I needed to prove to my Mom that she would be taken care of. I baked her some chicken, made a salad, left a note with the key and left. Mom bragged about that for the rest of her life. She told me my Aunt was furious with me for doing that to Mom. But, Mom thought it was the greatest thing I could have done.

While my friends are nervous about how things are going with the economy, I find it easy to say, "I will exceed my expectations and make what I need to for this month." Or I find that if I've had a low month, it's because I have either not said the above to myself, or I'm putting energy into other ares of my life.

It's not just a belief in yourself that causes one to realize the positive. It's also a belief that all is going to be well, in spite of the things around us. My husband is so good at not complaining about how horrible the gas prices are, and it's amazing to watch him pay what he needs to, comment on it in passing and then go on about his day as if it doesn't bother him. Oftentimes, by not complaining, he's amazed at how the car will exceed his expectations and actually go a few miles more than he thought it would on that particular tank of fuel.

Tom, you are an inspiration as well. How many times have I heard you talk about not giving up, believeing that you can persist in spite of obstacles in your path? And how many times have I heard you give the same piece of advice to others, especially when we were in the same school? I remember when you did not get the presidency of our class in eighth grade, and while you and I as the seventh grade president fought to actually have a re-election and lost, you persisted and then ran the next year and achieved your goal. You pushed yourself and while you had the support of coaches, you relied on you more than anyone else.

I'm reminded of the countless others I've known who persisted, believing in themselves enough that they were able to achieve great goals for themselves. And, these people were not celebrities. They were just normal everyday people like you and me.

I have to admit, I didn't always believe in myself enough to help myself along. Often, negative attitudes got in my way, causing me to slip and fall. But, as I work each day in the profession I'm in, I realize, If I don't believe in myself enough, I could not be a good healer. So, every day, I wake up now and tell God how beutiful the day is, and then say, "I'm believeing that you will bestow blessings upon this day. I'm believing I will do my part to realize those blessings."

May each one of you who read this, realize that it's only in following your heart that you can begin to believe, hope and feel the power of the healing you so richly deserve. Take the time to say, "I believe in myself."

Orphaned at forty-five

2008-05-01T11:33:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, I turn forty-five years old. But, it doesn't feel right. This is the first year without both my parents. My father left this world nine years ago. However, Mom was always there to call me or send me a birthday card, until this year.

This year, nothing feels right. Mom's gone. Sure, we've been able to do some things with the life insurance money like get some home repairs done and buy our new car. However, everyone in my family is fighting over the estate. Ebba isn't well. So, she's resigning as trustee. She's suggested that Sandy and Chrissy take over managing the estate. However, the attorney seems to think Nels would be a better choice. But, it seems Nels has either borrowed from or owes the estate money for some reason already. Everyone is blinded by Mom's colection of Mexican masks, the house and everything in it. But, if we continue not to settle on a date to clean out the house and for a guy to come and apraise the masks, we'll lose it all.

I have a feeling that I will be called upon to negotiate the date of the house cleaning, etc. But, I don't want it. I want to be a little girl again, who felt secure in the love of her family, no matter how mixed up we were. There's so much greed and hatred now, especially from my sister Chrissy, and no one wants to make things right with my brother Bob, (the one Mom had not spoken with for the last years of her live). I'm not enjoying my first birthday of orphanhood.

Grief I can't even begin to imagine

2008-04-23T21:20:00.000-07:00

I received an Email from a client of mine, telling me her father had passed away. She is the oldest child in her family. She had come to this country fron France to marry her husband.

When I called her yesterday, my heart broke for her. Here she had been to France earlier to take care of her mother. She had flown back here to help her husband with some stuff, only to be on a plane back to France three days later after the death of her mother. Now, five months later, her father is gone. She can't even fly home. Her credit cards are maxed out from the last trip. They had also had to take out a loan to cover cost as well. So, here she is, managing phone calls since Sunday from her home here to France to plan the funeral of her father.

I can't even begin to fathom how that must feel. How does one deal with death from so far away? Sure, she has her husband and her friends here. But, she can't even be there to comfort her sister. I know what it's like not to have much physical contact with my family, as we're all scattered to the four winds. But, I had my friends physically nearby, and some though not physically close were closer in miles than my client is to her family. How does one begin to deal with grief from so great a distance? I'm not so sure I have a straight answer to that question.

When I told her that I was willing to offer her a free massage, she told me that she could not possibly take me up on that. She kept saying that she didn't deserve the kindness of those who were reaching out to her, because she was finding it hard to accept it, while in the midst of planning her father's funeral. So hard.

Esther Ruth is home

2008-04-08T16:04:00.000-07:00

Well, I made it back home, sounding better than I ever did. Scott (nicknamed Stretch) put glue on me to hold me in one piece. He then braced the repair and then strung me up with new guitar strings. (I really don't know why it took four weeks.)I really sing now. Bea is amazed.

I got home on Monday. However, Bea would not let me near the computer, as we're facing home repairs on a scale that are not great. But, at least she and Bert have the life insurance money from her mother's passing to take care of things. They have a heat vent that needs repair, a hole in their ceiling that needs new dry wall put in. They have mold in the attic. The heat vent was the problem that caused the other two problems. They also had some plumbing go a bit South on them. But, all in all, it looks good, and it feels good to be back with Bea, knowing she has more gigs at which I can sing my heart out with the help of her fingers and her voice,. Oh, those gigs? Bert will be along also with his guitar and his fine voice as well.

Esther Ruth, safely snuggled in her guitar case at home.

An Update from Esther Ruth

2008-03-29T09:08:00.000-07:00

I should be home soon. Bea received a call from Scott (Stretch) and he's been taking really good care of me. Will post more about how I'm doing once I'm home.

Esther Ruth from the Guitar hospital at Elderly Instruments.

P.S. Tom, she's bbeen reading your blog, and she wanted to make sure you told Bill V. she's fine and about ready to play again and to you both, she's ready to make the new CD, anything to be played again. She also told me that I need to have Stephen post about riding in old vintage cars, like the Scout on South Manitou Island. He is shy and says he doesn't want to post that yet. But, he said when he does, he'd like yu to tell your daughter about it.

Suzanne, she says thanks to you for saying she speaks eloquently. She just thinks she sings.

Everyone else, she just says hi to.

A blind Woman's Rant

2008-03-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

So, everyone is excited about the new Governor of New York, Mr. Paterson. Everyone is hopeful that he will be able to take care of the problems left behind by his predecessor. But, is that what they're talking about?

Guess what? The anser is no! Instead, they're talking about the fact that he is the first legally blind governor. Yet, there are those in the media who have him under severe public scrutiny for not living up to the standards of other blind people as far as living independently. There are those who believe that he needs a cane, that he needs to learn Braille. If he can read print up close, why should he learn Braille? If he can see well enough to not need a cane, why should he have one?

There were a couple of people on the school for the Blind alumni list who pointed out some of this stuff. They then went on to say that certain people who had attended the school who have enough vision to drive, should not be given the opportunity to do so, let alone live a normal life. Somewent on to say that everyone should learn to use a cane and read Braille, so that when they lose their sight entirely, they can still cope.

Tom, I've never told you why it is, I don't truly envy you for being able to see, let alone drive. It goes back to my father's family. Both his brothers Marvin and Sydney lost one eye each, due to accidents. Yet, they both went on to have high jobs in their professions. I think my Uncle Marvin became a civil engineer. I know he continued to be an avid fisherman in Long Island. He and his wife drove from New York to Michigan a couple of times when I was a child, and we were able to see him in his environment. It's because of their examples, my father insisted I would be the most independent person I chose to be. For that, I am grateful.

Anyway, then I heard a news report in which the "astounding statistic" was given of "over senvety percent of the blind population is unemployed". Well, who's fault is that? You've got the Social Security system causing blind people to feel trapped in the "I can't" mode for startes. Those of us who receive SSA benefits on our own work record, tend to be left alone. However, those who receive it as a single person based on a parent's retirement record and those who receive SSI benefits are often hounded by the administration to give up a percent of our check, if we make too much and that's based on a month-to-month basis. I personally never had to worry, as the company I had worked for as a social worker paid me well below the maximum. Yet, there's another reason the blind are unemployed at such an "astounding statistic". You earn just enough to get by in most cases. My boyfriend at the time (who subsequently became my husband) and I often would pool food resources, so that I would have enough to eat. I lived frugally and managed to cope. However, I also lived well enough.

Then, there's the lack of proper training. Sure, college is possible. Yet, most blind people may not know proper grooming habits, or even the fact that they will face discrimination. How well I remember when my internship supervisor looked my field supervisor from the university in the eye and asked her if school had prepared me for the road I would have to walk down. He then pointed out to her that she should take the time to talk about that with me and with any other fellow students who were minorities of any kind. (She was an African American woman, who as far as I know, never took his advice to heart.) I remember sitting in his office crying, becauase some of what he had nailed me on, I deserved to be nailed on. (I had let some good grooming habits go by the wayside, due to depression, and got caught for it.) Yet his comment about how the rehab centers, colleges and schools for the blind have forgotten how to train people to deal with discrimination and poor grooming skills were not doing any favors really hit home. I have since thanked him, shortly after landing my first job.

Often, lack of accomodation has caused blind people to lose their jobs, let alone their hope. No one should have to wait four months for the forms to be in an accessible format, if they work as a social work evaluator for a mental health agency. No one should have to wait three months until an adequate computer can be provided. Both things happened to me in my second job and both problems were not indirectly the fault of the Commission for the Blind. THe company I was working for was not cooperating with them.

So, while the media talks about what a wonderful man Mr. Paterson is, I hope they will look closely at how their comments about other blind people are infecting, yes infecting blind people to think less of themselves. I am proud of my accomplishments. I am grateful that I can work for myself. But, I feel sorry for those who have maybe heard the media comments and feel kicked down and beaten up yet again.

Weighty Decisions part Two

2008-03-13T19:14:00.000-07:00

I'm listening to Pierce Pettis as I type. I fell in love with his music in the late eighties. But, I never purchased any of his music until I saw him shortly after Hurricane Katrina. I've always found his music to be somewhat comforting when I was at Western Michigan University and I heard him on NPR. He's a man with a strong barritone voice with a trace of the Alabama hills evident in his writing and in his delivery. He's a contemprary folk songwriter who just happened to have a few of his songs go big. The one that everyone would know for sure is "You Move Me" which was recorded by Susan Ashton in the Contemporary Christian circles and by Garth Brooks in the country/pop circles. (Tom, I found myself thinking of you, when I heard the song "My Little Girl" a few moments ago. You need to find the CD that's on.) In his songs, you hear about the importance of being a community, though we live in a society that is constantly in a state of isolation physically.

Maybe some of you are wondering what I mean by that. Well, when you think about it, I've never met a lot of you physically. We've forgotten what it's like to reach out and truly touch someone. Yet, we crave it so much. Often in reading other's blogs, we at least find people who can speak to our emotional center. But, do we really reach out to those physically close to us?

Anyway, I know I'm straying way off topic from my original topic, and yet, I'm not. Pierce helps me take a close look at where I stand in what and who I believe, and I've always appreciated his writing for that. You can find more of his music at http://www.piercepettis.com/ and I hope y'all will enjoy.

My talk at BNI went really well on Tuesday. I think some of us were frustarted at who wasn't there to hear it. Yet, those who heard me were able to walk away thinking.

My friend Denise, her husband Richard and her mother Connie have all been charged with neglect of her children. The cool thing is, they're finding out who their friends are that are close by. Their churches have stepped forward and told them that they have connections who can help them with specific needs. Several are coming to help Denise and Richard clean out the house. Friends have agreed to store the stuff that needs to be sorted through that has not been damaged. A cousin has agreed to put Denise, her mother and Richard up in their house at some point. The church is paying for them to stay in a cheap hotel for now.

Denise's younger sister who lives in Texas is fighting for guardianship of the children. But, Connie said that she will do anything and everything she can to help Denise keep her family together. Frankly, I think if Denise's children are placed in foster care, it will be for such a short period of time, as Denise has the determination to fight for things that really matter to her. She told me that she is overwhelmed with grattitude for those who have stepped forward to do what they can for her.

I'm finding that more and more, I am becoming a person of action. I choose to act rather than stand by and let things I can do something about fall by the wayside. I had to call someone out on an ethical matter today, something I never thought I would have to do in BNI. It was actually in another group where I was subbing for a friend of mine. This woman started bitching about how she was treated by a client durring the part of the meeting which is supposed to be the inspirational time. When I got home, I sat down and wrote a friend of mine in the group and said, something has to be done about that, because there had been three visitors who were considering joining the group as potential members. I also pointed out to her that this woman who is a travel agent had lost my business in the future by being who she was.

The woman I knew myself as would never have written that letter, without being a total bitch. But, the me I'm becoming was actually calm in my writing that letter, and I got a kind letter back from my friend, thanking me for what I had to say.

I really like the woman I am becoming. I just never thought I would find her at close to forty-five. She is beautiful, strong, with a good heart, though somewhat overwhelmed at how much she has had to think about these past few days.

Weighty decisions

2008-03-10T19:07:00.000-07:00

This week seems to be one in which I find myself needing to take stands on so much. It's not that I have not taken stands on things before. It's just so much seems to be happening to people around me.

On Tuesday, the president of our BNI chapter asked me if I would talk tomorrow as the educational coordinator for our group on integrity between members. His reasoning for me to do that was to get back at a member who had wronged him deeply. I've been grappling with how I am going to give the talk Brad asked for, and decided that instead, I would talk about what I originally was going to talk about, waking up each day and "greeting it with a forgiving spirit". I've been doing the talks for the past few weeks based on "The Traveler's Gift" by Andy Andrews. In this novel, Andrews talks about seven decisions to success, all of which I have been following to some degree since I read the book two years ago. I've re-read it several times as a refresher. The choice to greet each day with a forgiving spirit is the sixth decision. I will talk about the importance of integrity. Yet, I will talk about it in the context of forgiveness. My prayers are that Brad and the member he is having some disagreement with will listen and understand the importance of forgiveness.

Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from one of the massage therapists in my building. She was asking me if I would participate in an event for the Relay for Life.
Relay for Life is linked with the American Cancer Society and while I know the ACS has done a lot of good, they are pro choice, as they support Embryonic Stem Cell Research. If I chose to work the fundraiser, I would be supporting an organization who is for abortion. Too many Christians support the Relay for Life events and don't really understand the fine line there that they cross. I called her back and explained my decision, and her response was that I was not getting it. Oh well... I'm not going to let what she has to say influence my decision, and if it gets back to Kelly our landlord, I hope she will approach me on it, rather than listen to what someone might be saying about me.

Yesterday, I received a phone call from a friend who asked me to keep her in prayer. Because of many ongoing problems between her, her husband and her mother and how they raise her children, Child Protective Services have separated her from her children and her mother. The house they had been lving in had been condemned.

If anyone were to walk into my house, they would certainly not understand how on earth I could live in such chaos, as I have piles. However, each pile is a pile that only makes sense to me, and they are not always in the greatest places. But, I am aware of it, and am actually thinking that it is something I need to improve on. Yet, my house is clean. If I'm not cleaning, Bert is, or Michelle, (my friend who cleans houses for a living who wanted to help in exchange for massages is). I didn't used to be that way, and Denise had been one of the friends who had confronted me on that.

Ever since her pregnancy of her oldest child nine years ago, Denise has chosen not to be an imaculate housekeeper. In fact, she (according to her mom) has become "a filthy slob". I find those words hard, as Connie had told her that she needed to change and then backed away from her original decision to have Denise and her husband and children move out if she didn't see any improvement, because she needed their financial help in order to keep that house.

Denise's husband is slow. At the time CPS had house inspectors come through their home, there had been a flood. He and Denise had moved boxes of junk Denise had been collecting since she was eighteen! (Good God. If I had everything I had from the time I was eighteen... Anyway, he had moved these boxes on top of the range and in front of every exit for escape from a fire. And this was okay with Denise!

In her phone call, Denise made jokes about me coming down to help her. Yet, after talking with Bert about what had happened, we decided that we needed to tell Denise that we love her. But, she's going to have to take care of herself. We can't help her.

Finally today, we went to the house of our tax preparer. I dearly love Nancy. She's been like a second Mom to me, which is why the conditions of her trailer saddened me. There was a strong smell of animal waste, because her seventeen-year-old dog has been peeing in different areas throughout the house. From what Bert told me, there was stuff strewn everywhere. The kitchen was filthy. I found myself longing to leave, as my artificial eyes began to act up and my stomach began to churn. How I longed to actually bring a crew of women in to clean with Nancy's permission, and I probably will talk with her about that, because I just can't get the picture of what I felt and smelled out of my mind.

I don't know why it is I'm being tested with lots of stuff like this right now. Usually, if I have decisions to make like these, they don't all happen at once. The strange thing is, in each case, I found myself while feeling sadness, anger and frustration, I've been at peace with every choice I've made, at peace, and able to make them quickly.

A person's inner beauty

2008-03-02T20:12:00.000-08:00

This morning, as I listened to SpeakingOf Faith on the National Public radio station, I was transfixed by what John O'Donahue was talking about to the interviewer. He was saying that each person has the potential to show forth inner beauty to others, thus showing forth God's love, (though not exactly in those words). HE then went on to ask if we have had meaningful conversations, ones we'll remember for a time and that seem to never leave you. I link that to memories as well of those we connect with. It was as if he read my mind, because his next point was that we all have soul friends, those who matter to us, those who understand us the best.

I found myself wondering if I really do have those friends, knowing the answer is yes. Anyone who has been there for me, who has comforted me in a way that runs deeper than the superficial, has become one of those friends to me and has shown me the inner beauty of their souls. Yet, has my inner beauty shown forth to others? Have they truly seen it? Have they felt I have made that connection with them and been the friend they needed at times when they needed a friend most?

I realize that maybe this is a selfish question for me to ask. But, please realize that while I may come across as someone with high self-esteem, it still helps to know that maybe I have been able to be that for someone.

Then, I find myself asking if this is what God wants me to understand, that in showing forth His love to my fellow man, my inner beauty is being created by Him for me to find out about when I am on the other side?

I guess Jackson Brown said it best in the last part of the last verse of his song "for a dancer".

"Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown.
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own,
and somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go
may lie a reason you were alive that you'll never know."

Go forth today, and let your inner beauty shine!

Mom deserved better...

2008-02-27T20:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I received my copy of the December newsletter for the Blind Children's Fund. I was looking forward to reading it, since I had not gotten it in a while.

The first article was a tribute to my Mom, the founder of the Blind Children's Fund. I saw that it had been written by my sister-in-law Karla and hoped that it would portray adequately the greatness of Mom's life.

This is maybe going to sound like a rant. And, at this point, I don't care who reads this.

TO me, the writing Karla had written was inadequate, stilted, and a trifle sad. The reason? Mom, my brother Bob and his wife Karla stopped speaking in 2001. For six years, my Mom and my oldest brother and his wife have chosen not to forgive each other for what had happened between them, something I don't want to know.

Mom deserved better from Karla and Bob, and they deserved beter from her. Everyone concerned should have heard the words "I forgive you" and should have been able to move on. But, they didn't, and the sad thing is they never will now, now that Mom is gone!!!

I am so grateful that I was able to forgive Mom for what she had done to me. I think that may be why it is I can write so eloquently about her, if I may say so myself. The words while good from Karla lacked emotion, meaning, love.

Is that how I want my legacy to be? Do I want to have someone write a tribute to me and have it mean something? Or do I want a pile of crap for people to remember me by? I hope it's the former.

My name is Esther RUth

2008-02-23T22:11:00.000-08:00

I am Bea's prize Martin guitar and my name is Esther Ruth. I'm what's called a D15 and
I'm the only guitar Bea owns with a female name.

Bea and her husband Bert strolled into Elderly Instruments to get a bunch of repairs done to his Guild guitar, , and found me sitting on a rack waiting to be played. Bert handed me to Bea and she immediately began to compose a song on me.

For the next day and a half, all Bea kept saying to Bert was that she wanted that guitar and that they could afford me.

On that Monday afternoon, they walked into the show room and couldn't find me. Then, Bert noticed that the Martins had been moved. I was handed to Bea again, and it was like meeting up with an old friend.

For the next seven years, I was Bea's constant companion at gigs. She has three other guitars. Stephen is the oldest. She's had him since she was fourteen. Joshua, a wonderful twelve string is next. Then, there's me and then Black Cloud, who she rescued from a friend who hadnot taken good care of him.

I'm made of Mahogony, a wood that is not always prized. Yet, because of the kind of wood it is, I have a warm, rich tone. Bea has composed many songs on me, since she got me.

But, on Wednesday, Bea and I had an unfortunate thing hapen to us. She was playing some songs on me, along with her husband Bert, as they were preparing for the concert they were doing at a new coffee venue. However, my strap came off at my tail end, and I fell to the floor, before Bea could catch me.

Poor Bea. Bert told her that it would have to be her money that would have to pay for me, or for a new guitar. She was devistated, as they prepared to take me up to Elderly Instruments.

I'm now lying in the hospital room, or actually it's known as a repair shop, waiting for the guys to come mend the huge crack on me. They told Bea that I would be good as new, and that the repairs would cost less than a new guitar. So, now, I lie in wait for my turn to be worked on, while Bea uses Joshua for some of the next few gigs.

I'll write more when I return home.

"I Won't Back Down"

2008-02-19T20:29:00.000-08:00

As we pulled into the parking lot of the offfice where I work, my friend Carrie and I were listneing to Tom Petty's Greatest Hits. "American Girl" was playing at a moderately quiet pitch for us. We usually have her CD player a bit louder than we had it. However, we were talking and it took a lot for me to concentrate, as I was not feeling well.

I was reminded as I listened to him of just how much I loved Tom Petty's music. I remember the first time I really listened to his music. My Mom and I were riding in her car that she had bought which she had left for my brother and sister to drive when we moved to Massachusetts. We were on the way to my eye appointment. (I have artificial eyes, and we were in the process of trying to get them to set up appointments, so I could get new ones.) I was a junior in high school, visitting Oekmos on Spring Break, sick with the flu.

We had dropped my brother Nels's friend off at his house and were headed from the appointment to my Aunt's house, when Mom turned on the tape to try and comfort me. It worked. I don't even remember the songs. I just remember liking what I heard.

I remember falling in love though with "The Waiting" a year later. Though the subject matter of the song was not about waiting to hear from a school as to whether I had gotten accepted or not, it comforted me, as I was waiting to hear if I had been accepted at Interlochen Arts Academy for my senior year. (Mom had held me back a year, so I could prepare for that.)

Fast forward about eight years. I was a masters level social worker intern at a substance abuse clinic. The kids I worked with loved a lot of music that I could not stomach. But, they all loved Tom Petty's music, in particular "Running Down a Dream" and "I Won't Back Down". I had learned to play the latter, and often that song would be requested, along with another one that was popular at the time by another artist called "Love Song" which one of the kids gave me the tape to learn that song from. In particular, "I WOn't Back Down" was requested a lot by the girls in the program.

I was thinking about those kids, as I listened to Tom Petty do the half time show at the Super Bowl, and was reminded of one in particular, as I listned to how Tom sang "i Won't Back Down" these days. The angry edge was gone from the time he had recorded it. Instead, I heard the voice of a very humble man.

The kid I was thinking of had his stepmother confescate all his tapes and I had to sit down and listen to them with him, to help him distinguish what was positive music and what wasn't. I personally loved this kid. I could see a lot of potential in him, that I could not always see in the boys in particular. And listening to music for or with him was not a problem. I had to do that with other kids there as well, especially since I was teaching the music appreciation unit for the program. Anyway, I sat with him for two hours, listening to every tape in bits and pieces and actually letting him make the decision about the tapes. His stepmother actually was sort of pissed at me for doing it that way, because she felt he would not be able to make such a decision.

Fast forward about eleven years. I had since married and moved to Jackson. We were driving through Kalamazoo on our way to South Haven to sing at a church. We had pulled into a gas station off of M43, close to the Western boundary of Kalamazoo. Bert had gone in to get something to drink for us both, and a truck pulled alongside of us. We had the windows rolled down, because our air conditioning hasn't worked in our car for God knows how long.

The driver of the car walked up and asked how I was doing. I told him okay, and then he asked if I remembered him. Of course I did! How could I forget Tony? He then thanked me for listening to him and for helping him with the music he had been listening to.

To think I had believed in him enough to actually not back down but show him that kindness and love could help him become a better person. "No, I won't back down" from being who I am. Thanks Tom Petty for your music, and Tony for your kid words.

A father and son tribute

2008-02-16T07:16:00.000-08:00

On Valentine's Day, Bert and I went to listen to one of our personal favorite performers. His name is Steeve Tucker. We had known Steve for years, as our friend the Late Ben Arnold had been good friends with him. We had heard him sing with different groups around town. But, my personal favorite way to hear him was alone. I particularly loved his covers of Jackson Brown's songs "A Taste of Something Fine" and "These Days" when he sung them at Ben's memorial service three years ago.

At that same memorial service, we had had the chance to hear Steeve's son Brian play, and from him, our favorite cover will always be the song "Alleluia" which is featured in the first Shrek movie. We've since heard Brian a number of times at the Nomad.

I'll always appreciate both Brian's and Steeve's clear bell like voices. As I said with regards to both of them, they can do their own material as well as Jackson Brown's material almost flawlessly and make it sound like it's really no effort.

What was especially cool on Thursday night was hearing Steeve do a set and then let Brian do part of a set, with him singing some background vocals on some of Brian's songs.

I'm reminded by that of just how much we take for granted in our parents. When we don't realize how much we should value them is when they're gone. I will always treasure the times I had with my Mom and my Dad. I loved the long car rides Mom and I used to take to go visit my grandmother in the Upper Peninsula or her Aunt Ethel in South Haven. I loved working with Dad in his studio in the clay. I loved the times I'd work with either one of them in the kitchen, as they both helped me realize I could do things for myself.

Parents should also realize that the time they have with their children should also not be taken for granted. How many parents have I known who have been frustrated with their children more times than not?

Thanks Steve and Brian for that example.

A special Award

2008-02-11T20:04:00.000-08:00

I would like to thank Suzanne R. for the award of cheerfulness she bestowed on me on her blog. I personally don't feel I always am cheerful. Yet, knowing I can help her feel cheerful really means a lot to me.

I would like to also bestow the award of always making me feel cheerful to Suzanne R. Reading about her busy life on her blog really is a blesing.

I now am going to bestow a few awards on to a few of my blogging friends. If you wish to do the same back on your blogs, that would be awesome, as this is what Suzanne did to me after she had received the award from a friend of hers.

I would like to at this time bestow the award of gentle courage on Julie and Lino. They've gone through so much in their marriage and have posted about what they've gone through often on Julie's blog. Yet, they also let everyone know that they have enough courage to pull them through in their faith, in their trust and in their hope for each other.

I would bestow the award of wisdom to Indigo Red. Sorry, I don't always read your blog. Yet, when I do, I always walk away feeling I've learned something important.

I would bestow the award of quiet strength and perseverance on to Tom C. Tom, it's been a blessing to know the one thing I always valued in your friendship is still evident. No matter what is going on in people's lives, it's your quiet strength which you so freely give to others when they're down that really is a blessing. Your perseverance, regardless of what life has thrown at you is so evident in your life. You helped me learn that lesson long ago, and I've never fogotten it.

Ryan, I would bestow the award of gentle prayer warrior on both you and Rainee. There's never a moment goes by when someone puts up a prayer request, that you're not letting people know it's already being lifted up.

I would bestow the award of sense of sarcastic humor to Annette. While I've only gotten to know you through lists over the past year and a bit, I've always appreciated that about you.

I would bestow the award of direct boldness to Lynn. Thanks for being direct enough in whatever you have to offer to so many.

Finally, to Michael and Gail, I would bestow the award of always being able to sing, no matter what the circumstances are in your lives. Thank you for that.

Thanks to all of you.

To be able to serve!!!

2008-02-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

I am just totally amazed at the team I've been asked to serve on for the Emmaus walk! I know I said I would devote my blog to some of the people who have blest me in the past, and I will continue that series throughout the next little while. But, this is too good for me to not blog about now!!!

When I went to my first training meeting two weeks ago, I found myself wondering if I would be able to handle the role of music co-director. Not because I felt I could not do the job. I felt maybe I would not be able to actually participate fully, especially when it came to the picking out of the songs, because I would not have the hand-outs in front of me in a format I could read. Well, I really didn't say anything. I did however feel that at least letting people know that when they don't describe slides for those who might be visually challenged, they really weren't considering everyone who would be on the walk. I wasn't thinking of myself though. I was only thinking of those who actually have vision problems.

It turns out that one of the women on the walk is an interpreter for the deaf and she shares an office with the teacher consultant for the blind and visually impaired children in her county. She thought that she might be able to do something about making sure I had stuff in an alternative format. However, she didn't say a word to me about it, until I came in today for our second meeting.

When I walked in, I just barely got my coat off, when Cindy came racing up to me and told me that she had something for me in the room we would be using as our conference room for the day. She then guided me over to a chair and then put something in front of me. It was a Braille copy of the music director's schedule for the walk! All the times for the walks were listed, all the times the music director was supposed to do something! And, I could read it!!!

Never in all my churchgoing years, have I ever had anyone think enough of me to make sure I had that stuff available. When I was at Okemos Community Church, they never had the song books available for me to read for youth group, which meant I was sort of pinch hitting it at times. However, they had started getting the hymns in Braille for me when I was involved in the church choir my tenth grade year. But, that stopped after December of that year.

When I attended St. John's Student Parish in East Lansing while I was in college, we had Braile songbooks made. However, they were a bit clumsy for blind people to use, as they were three volumes. Plus, I played guitar anyway while I was there. So, for me, it really wasn't an issue. I would often read through the songbook though so I could learn the words to some of my favorite Catholic folk hymns. To me, some of those are the greatest songs I've ever sung and still continue to sing.

The Emmaus Walks are sponsored by the Upper Room, and they have made sure that Braille copies of the book they use are made available. Again though, the book is three volumes, and if you don't know what book to use, you're stuck.

Cindy made an announcement today to the team to everyone giving a talk, that they get materials to her by the next meeting in a Word document, so that I can have the talks to look at right when everyone else was going to be reading it off the slides! SHe then will take them to her friend to see if they can be transcribed into Braille!!! You mean, I won't have to poke with my slate and stylus anymore to write up stuff? (Sorry for those of you who read this and have the wonders of modern technology in the form of portable note takers. The slate and stylus is still my favorite method of writing when it comes to anything I want to read.) I won't have to worry about missing anything! I'll be able to participate fully! I'll be able to serve more freely than I did when I was a table leader! It may not sound like much to some of you. But, to me, that's my whole reason for being to serve! Now, I'll be able to more fully! Thanks Cindy and all the rest of the team!

Other MSb Friends

2008-02-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

I often wonder how it is my family was able to cope with the friends I had made at MSB. But, cope with them they did.

Mom often felt that it was necessary for me to have parties to which I could invite my friends from MSB, and invite I did. There was just one problem. Unlike my brothers and sisters, I could only invite "the Girls". Something about Mom feeling she would have to turn it into a school outing, which would have meant staff would have to have been invited if we invited any of the guys? That meant most of the guys that I was close to, which was a few, never got to see my house, nor interaqct with my family. I often wonder how talks betwen my brother Nels, and Larry would have gone.

Ihad had Joy, Lori and Betsy over to my house often to spend the night, and Joy, Lori and I had celebrated my ninth and tenth birthdays together. My fifth grade year, my eleventh birthday was special, because Mom had said Betsy could come as well. I remember the four of us devouring plates full of "Joy's" favorite food. (Yes, Tom. Any time we had Joy come to spend the night, we were relagated to two, count them two different dinner choices! Those were hamburgers and chicken, and we had to have chocolate cake on those nights for dessert. Don't ask...)

In normal circumstances, the four of us probably would not have chosen to hang out together. But, we were all we had really for a number of years. Betsy was a year ahead of Joy, Lori and I. Because she had such a sweet spirit, we could not turn her away. For that matter, I never would have. Through all the years of my adulthood, we've known how to stay in touch, and the conversations we have now are just as meaningful. I think she mainly hung with us, because in her class, at least when the classes were separated into Blind and partially sighted kids, she really was about the only girl in her class. But, that was okay with us.

Joy was the first person I met when I came to the school. She was a good kid, almost too good, always the teacher's favorite, always the one who was more book smart. Always the Christian, who felt she had to Lord it over all of us. I remember one time Lori saying, "I love Joy in my way. But, in God's way?"

Lori was always the loud one. And, I do mean loud! I honestly think she could yell and everyone could hear her at least a quarter of a mile away. She was the one who cursed worse than any of the guys. She always wanted to be noticed, and noticed she was, though she would often say I was the one who was noticed. Though the three of us always sang together for school functions, and I played guitar often, Lori was the one who could play anything on the piano, and yet? She would always say I was the one who played circles around her.

I was the tomboy and the athlete. Having long legs and looking somewhat like a beanpole when I was in elementary school, Miss Brunger then began grooming me for track. Betsy was taller than me. But, like I said, she was a grade ahead of me. I was often picked on for being the tallest in our class, right up until fifth grade when Wally joined our class.

I was also the one who played fair, and more often than not, got in trouble for it. I don't know how many times when Joy, her friend Bethann and I had to play against the guys in our class, Tom and Kevin had to defend me, because I dared to point out that my teammates were being unfair. I remember Kevin being extremely vocal one day, when he had had enough of Joy and realized I had. I think what had Joy upset that day was the fact Tom and Gary were answering all the questions she couldn't answer. There was always this competition between the three of them as to who the best student was , though for Tom, it came easiest and he never really participated. I think it was Tom who had gotten a question right when Joy screamed that it wasn't fair, and I pointed out to her that it not only was fair, he deserved the point. Joy started saying something about how unfair I was being, and Kevin just looked at her and said that she was damned lucky I was on her team.

I remember that day, Mrs. Cordon pulled me aside and told me I was going to win no popularity contests with the guys for always siding with them. I didn't point out to her that most of the guys knew I really could care less about that.

I mentioned Bethann, who though always considering me her "Friend" I never could stand. Funny thing was, neither could Lori or Betsy. I remember my sixth grade party, Joy had insisted that Bethann should be invited as well, and Mom capitulated to her old "Do what the company wants" theme and agreed. That was hard on that particular time for Mom, because she had done a lot for Lori and Joy both. She had made sure they both had things they needed, because Lori's family was so far away from her, and Joy's family were not exactly doing well enough financially. Many were the times she would send me to school with bags of my old clothes for Joy to take home and use when I outgrew them. And then there was the time we had given Joy a bunch of my old recordds, (or should I say the family's old records) because she had no stories or songs to listen to at home. Many had been the times Mom would let Joy stay with us, because her family would not be willing to pick her up late at night when we did singing events. Joy has since thanked me for those times. But, the one she really should have thanked for always giving into her was my Mom. I should add that thank you came after Mom's passing.

Getting back to the story, Lori, Betsy and I basically made it clear, Joy wanted Bethann there? Then, they had to sleep in a separte room from us. The three of us were actually too tired to talk and were just getting ready to drift off to sleep, when Joy came whining to us, begging us to let her stay with us, because Bethann was keeping her awake, and we all said no, including Mom!

It got to a point where, if you saw one of us, you usually saw the four of us, though after I moved into the dorm, you mainly saw Betsy and I together more often than not. Though we could always laugh at Lori's jokes and talk with Joy about God, we often found we could not talk to them about other things.

I remember when Joy, Lori and I tried out for cheerleading. Betsy didn't for some reason that year, though her classmate Marcie did. I tried out, because Joy and Lori had me convinced that it would be fun for us to do it together. But, after three months of it, I had to try my best not to quit. A squad of three cheerleaders would not look right. However, I got tired of the demeaning way the coaches treated me. Again, I was the tallest, and while long legs are great for track, they're not always the best thing for cheerleading, especially when everyone else on the squad was shorter than me. Some of the guys had to have known, in fact, I remember one person actually telling me not to take it to heart. But, I just could not deal with it anymore, once spring rolled around.

My tenth grade year, we began to drift apart. Part of it was the fact, I was in public school virtually full time and was taking a couple of classes at MSB, just so they could keep me on the track team. I remember an incident happening at the last track meet, where I felt like a lone wolf, because no one took my side. I had come to the defense of one of the girls on the team, when Gary had gone after her, with help. He had managed to get Carol into one of the hotel bathrooms at the Holiday Inn we were staying at for the regional track meet and had Larry hold his foot against the door to keep her in. I remember coming to the door and yelling as loud as I could, when I heard her screaming for him to leave her alone.

Though the incident was never taken to administration, amongst ourselves, Carol had everyone convinced I had been in on the deed. When Lori tried to defend me, she relented and agreed when Carol said she knew what she knew.

I remember watching a lot from the outside after that. Betsy still always talked with me, because we were both going through different degrees of transition. However, after that night, Lori and Joy didn't talk to me as much. Joy still did stuff with me, and actually was my roommate for one term. Things between Lori and I were somewhat strained though.

As adults, Joy, Betsy and I still talk. But, Lori moved on. From what I last heard, she's still doing absolutely nothing with her life. Whatever happened to her dreams of being the next famous singer? Betsy became what she always wanted to be, a wife and mother. Joy is currently working as an events coordinator at Great Lakes Bible College, and I'm still doing music, practicing massage and enjoying life. So strange, how at a place where friends were like family, once we left or changed in ways others didn't want us to change, we lost touch. Yet, in getting back in touch, we were able to see the beauty of the sisterhood we had had.

Tom C's Page

2008-01-28T11:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Pastor Walt in church was preaching on Romans 12:10. He talked about how we should all be devoted to each other for the cause of Christ and how we should give honor to one another. He then suggested that we should honor those who have blest our lives in a particular way by telling them how much they have blest our lives.

The following is a re-write of a story I had written in my newsletter a while ago about Tom C. who I have known over thirty years. Tom, because of all you’re going through, I thought it worth putting up here. I plan on using my blog for the next little while to talk about friends who have blest my life, since I’ve talked on and on about my family and how I’ve been blest by them..

"Re: Long time" was a subject line I was coming across several times in my in box that particular day, as I was going from latest to earliest, looking
for any personal Email. It was people on the MSB list, and I found myself going "Re: long time who?" Then, I found it, and my heart nearly jumped into
my throat. "Long time" was the subject line. But, it was the name, Tom C. that made me stop.

Tom C., my fellow classmate, who left around the same time I might as well have left MSB completely. Tom C., the one person I wish I had thanked
for being there for me, even though we both ran in different circles of friends.

I sent a brief on list reply, as I thought about those times.

There was the time I proceeded to call Carol, one of the girls in our class a very bad name, because she would not slow down for me when we were running
around the track. I remember feeling miserable about that almost immediately.

To give a bit of background -- That year the school for the blind had combined all middle school classes together into one huge program, which meant
we had to do everything in mixed classes. Home-ec was my course after that fateful gym class.

When I walked into the class room, the only available seat was next to Tom. "Great", I thought, as I slipped into it. You see? At that time, Tom
and his two friends were known as our class's "bad boys", and I thought they obviously would pick sides with Carol.

The minute I sat down though, I sensed Tom wanted to talk to me. I turned to look at him, and he indicated without saying a word "Later". But, I remember
feeling extreme peace in that indication. It was not until the teacher had given me the ingredients for whatever we were working on, that Tom turned to
me and said quietly, "You have nothing to worry about". I asked him if he was sure about that. He then went on to say, that he was pretty sure Carol
was upset at another kid for sticking up for me.

After that, I remember going through the motions for the rest of the class. Yet, every time I felt myself start to slip into worry mode, I could almost
hear Tom tell me not to worry, and I knew he was keeping an eye on me for the rest of the afternoon.

The next day, everyone kept saying stuff to me about the upcoming fight with Carol, except Tom and I think Larry. Larry was not one of the "Bad boys",
even though he constantly found himself in trouble. He, in reality was one of my best friends. So, I knew he would not say anything to me regardless.
But, when Gary and Kevin started picking on me, with Gary being the loudest, I broke down. Miss Manning took me down to Mr. Tutt's office, along with
Carol. But, as I left the room, I could almost feel Tom's eyes on me again, assuring me.

Fast forward about six or seven months later, when we were having our end of the year gym track tournament. I, was paired up with Tom to run the 440
tandem event. Both of us received our share of ribbing about that. But, I'll never forget what Tom did. The day before the event, he hollered over
to me, and when I approached, it was to get the pep talk no one else had ever given me when running the tandem race. I knew then, even if we didn't win,
I was going to be okay.

The day of the event, Tom again talked with me, never once using the words don't or quit or no.

The object in the 440 yard tandem or a quarter mile run is for the sighted person to lead. The blind person however, needs to push to keep the sighted
person's momentum going in the event.

I'm pretty sure it was our beloved guy's gym teacher, who we all called Coach, who hollered for the teams to run. I remember holding on to Tom's elbow
for dear life at first, as I tried to match his pace. Every ounce of energy in me wanted to scream, "I can't!" However, I remembered, that even though
he may have picked on me mercilessly in class, Tom never had not yelled for me to quit, and I had never done that to him. I could not let him down at
any price.

When we got the last hundred yards, I felt Tom start to slow down, and I tried my best not to slow down as well. Then, he realized what both of us
were doing and hollered, "Come on! It's not far! We can do this!" And, with a burst of energy neither one of us knew was there, we finished!

I don't remember if we won that day or not. Our team lost overall though, through no fault of our own.

Had we both stayed at MSB, I'd like to think in an alternative universe, we would have both probably been team captains. I, for girls track and he
for wrestling. However, the next year, both of us could see the school taking a drastic turn. I started going to Okemos High part time that year, and
I'll never forget the day when something in me snapped and I said something in class about something. Tom was sitting next to me in that class, (this
time because of a stupid seating chart Mrs. Cordon had). I think what I was complaining about was the fact I was in a social studies class in both schools.
Tom then turned to me and asked, "Bea, what are you still doing here? You don't belong here." My response to him was just as inspired as my comment had
been. "I don't know!" Tom then told me to get out while I still could, neither one of us realizing it would be him who would leave and go full time
the following year.

Tom did come back; I think it was the second day of our tenth grade year to visit. I remember him hollering at me and asking if I was glad I was back.
My answer was non-committal enough, because I didn't realize it was him. When I did, I nearly turned around and hollered back, "No Tom, I'm not! I wish
no one had convinced me to do track another year!"

Tom's on list response the next day, caused me to write down most of what I recorded here, to him privately especially the thanks I had always wanted
to give him. The next day, I received an invitation to look at something he had written on his blog. What he wrote was a public thank you back to me.

When Mom passed away, I knew there were people in my life I could count on to help me through that time. Tom was one of those people. If I wrote him, I received an Email back, assuring me everything I was going through was normal, as he had lost his mother at around Christmas time. He also asked more times than most if I was okay, and for that, I’m totally grateful.

Tom, I honor you, because I know anyone who considers you a good friend, is someone you will either watch their back, or give them a helping hand up. Bless you for who you are in those people’s lives you have touched.

I feel so blest!!!

2008-01-20T20:36:00.000-08:00

This has been the week in which I have felt like I was on a perpetual treadmill with a lot of different things going on. Yet, in the end, I have felt so blest to have actually gone through this week.

It all started on Monday, when I showed up at work, or actually was on my way out the door to catch my ride. The driver cursed me for having my hamper, took it from me, slammed it into the van and slammed the door. This particular driver is always complaining about one thing or another, and frankly, I've wanted to see her get fired for the past five years! So, naturally in the afternoon, I called in a complaint against her.

When I got into the office, I discovered that my cordless phone had been turned on by my office mate when she was putting it in the basket of clean sheets, so she would not hear it ring. Thus, when I went to use it, there was no power!

I decided to go to my landlord's office, only to find that the sidewalk down to the steps leading to her office was covered with a nice coating of ice. So, I turned around, went back to my level of the building, and salted down the sidewalk between the two wings. The whole time, I wondered if my whole week was going to be like this.

Fortunately, it wasn't. Tuesday, I had three massages. Friday, I had four and Saturday I had four. Wednesday, I went out to coffee with a friend of mine, and Thursday, I worked on paper work all day, until it was time for me to go coach the children in a sceen in "The Miracle Worker".

On Friday night, after giving four massages, I worked at a relaxation night at my church, only to get a gift card and a thank you note from them to Bob Evans. The gift card was for quite a bit of money. So, I can't complain.

Then, on Saturday morning, I was eating my breakfast, when I received a phone call from a woman who went on an Emmaus walk, asking if I would be interested in being the assistant music director for the walk. We're meeting tomorrow morning to go over music.

When I look back over this past week, I have to stop and consider the fact that while so many of my friends are facing life's challenges, I can thank God for taking the time to bless me and let them know how much I appreciate them for what theyre going through. You know who you are and you know how much I love and appreciate you. I wish I could take your cares away from you and give you some of what I have experienced over the past week. Yet, each one of you have shared your blesings with me during times when I needed to hear that everything was going well for you and I was going through hard times. I love you all.

My opinion of the Michigan Primary

2008-01-17T06:36:00.000-08:00

Indigo, if you're reading this, thanks for your post on your blog about John McCain. I had always known he had strange partners in crime. However, when I was reading your post, it dawned on me that I had seen firsthand just how true what you had to say is! For those of you who are reading this who want to know what I'm talking about, go to http://furtheradventuresofindigored.blogspot com and read the post Why Not John McCain.

On Tuesday afternoon, just as we were getting ready to head out the door, I received a phone call which the talking caller ID told me was "out of Area". I didn't answer it. However, I thought I'd better check the voice mail, because I do have one friend who will call me on occasion and those she lives only fifteen miles from me, sometimes when she's using her cell phone, it wil say that.

What I heard was a recorded message from former democratic vice-presidential candidate Joe Lieberman. It was a plea for all Republicans to vote for John McCain, as he considered him to be the best candidate for the job. He then went on to add that if this was a Democratic household he had reached, that he hoped the members of the household would also vote for McCain, since no democrats were on the ballot.

First of all, that's not entirely true. Hillary Clinton did not have her name taken off the ballot, unlike her fellow democrats Obama and Edwards. So, a good number of her supporters did turn out to vote for her.

Do I think any democrats heard Mr. Lieberman's plea? Most assuredly I do. Even if two of the democratic candidates had not demanded their names taken off the ballot and then turned around and demanded that people write them in, a lot of democrat votes went to Mr. McCain in this primary and in the primary of 2000. I remember talking to a friend of mine at the time and having her complain about Mr. McCain winning Michigan, and I asked her then what she expected, since Michigan was mostly a Democratic state, regardless of Jackson being called the "Birthplace of the Republican Party". I know several democrats who voted for Mr. McCain in that election, and I'm sure the same democrats voted for him again in this primary to bring him into second place behind Romney.

Ah, yes. Mitt Romney. Michigan's favorite son, riding in on a white horse to sieze the day! Please!!!

A lot of the political analysts are saying they voted for Romney here in Michigan to straighten out our economy. I'm not sure what will straighten out the economy in Michigan, other than more manufacturing jobs staying close to home and less of them being outsourced to other countries. I'm not so sure I can trust Mr. Romney with regards to making sure as president that doesn't happen.

I am concerned that what Mr. Romney has done to the Evangelical Christians in my state, is a whitewash job. I don't know how many of you heard or read his statement on faith. I tell you, I was impressed. However, I also saw it for what it was, a whitewash job, so that he would get the Evangelical vote, using some of the same words they use, yet using them in the context of his Mormon Faith. I'd like to think no Evangelicals bought into what he was saying. But, I'd be lying if I said that were true, because the numbers tell all.

I am please to say that in my county alone, about fifteen hundered to two thousand were split up between Mike Huckabee, Fred Thompson and Duncan Hunter, and I'm sure most of those were free thinking people who at least give a damn and see the two leading candidates here in Michigan for who they are. At the same time, they also see Ron Paul for being the jackass that he is.

By the way, Back to Mr. McCain... Did anyone hear him accidentally almost refer to the people of Michigan as the people of Mexico? Wonder what was up with that! Maybe he thinks we're that poor here too?

Primary Eve

2008-01-14T05:28:00.000-08:00

Well, today the phone calls probably will begin in earnest for the next twenty-four hours, as Republican candidates jockey their phone calls in to my voice mail, pleading me to vote for them. I tell you what... Even if you are the guy I would vote for, you call my house three times like Romney has done before primary eve, ya won't get my vote and I'll write you off as a pain in the ass! I am so sick of his "I'm so proud of my Michigan heritage" speech. If you're that proud of it, then why did you leave? Also, if you send five pounds of mail to me, the way Ron Paul's campaign has done, you won't get my vote either! I had already decided not to vote for him anyway, because I saw what working for his campaign had done to one of my work mates and her boyfriend. Let's just say it ain't pretty. In their house, it's trouble in paradise.

I have to say though, if ya don't vote, what kind of respect should others give to you for not at least doing your part? I was reminded of that so tangibly yesterday morning.

I'm one who prays every day at least once for our troops, and if I know anyone who is out there, I'll pray for them all the harder. Yesterday morning, one of our troops came home to our church. This young man has been in the army ever since I've gotten to know his family, (aabout ten years). He did something different. Rather than just accept the applause that so often comes after we've welcomed them home, he came up and personally thanked each and every one of us for praying for him, a soldier who has voluntarily pledged to serve our country.

In this country, we all have the opportunity to serve our country, whether it be as a soldier, a member of the Navy, Air force or Coastguard, a voter. Yes, we still have the freedom to serve our country. So, rather than bellyache about it, get out there and serve, even in the primary. And, oh yes, for those of you who are Democrat in Michigan who do not want to vote for Hillary, write in your two candidates. I'm sure that would take some of the wind out of her sails and you would be exercising your rite to vote for whoever you damned well please, even though I totally disagree with you.

As for me? I'll just have to take the time to figure that out. I'll probably vote for... (That's for those of you who know me to find out.)

Just for today...

2008-01-08T20:07:00.000-08:00

It's been a rough couple of days. My keyboard has had to be taken down, as our roof sprang a leak around the chimney. The keyboard was where the old fireplace used to be with the mantle above it, sort of like a shelf. ON that, Bert kept some books he had bought which are all treasures. The damage to the ceiling and a couple of wall boards is probably going to cost a little. Fortunately, the home owners insurance will cover most of it.

I miss having my keyboard close to me. It's upstairs. The amp has been moved into my office. I am anxious to have the ceiling repaired, so that I can play it again. The keyboard is so therapeutic for me. Unfortunately, our contractor is sick. So, I hadve no clue as to when he'll be ble to even write an estimate.

Today, it took everything I had to move one foot in front of the other, both physically and mentally. I was so tired, and I had to get used to going to BNI, (Business Networking International) after not being there for three weeks, two due to holidays and one because of Mom's memorial service. I wonder if the lethargic feeling though had anything to do with feeling like I had lost my best friend in not being able to play my keyboard. It reminds me so much of the times Mom and I used to sit and listen to each other play piano.

I love my guitar, and I love playing my mandolin. Yet, because I use them both so much for work or church, they don't mean as much to my soul as I thought they would. It's at the keyboard where I spend a good deal of time when I'm writing music.

Oh well... Just for today, I will cherish the time I can play my guitar, the time I can write, the time I can spend talking to God to renew my strength, the time I can spend either talking or writing any of you in a given day. This too will pass.

My New Year's Commitments

2008-01-02T07:08:00.000-08:00

It’s a beautiful day here in Jackson, Michigan. I think we’re getting more snow. In fact, I think it’s the type of snow that is such a bore, the kind that just sort of falls when it’s ready to.
I’ve been thinking about New Year’s resolutions. I don’t like them, because I have a hard time keeping them, as does everyone else. So, I think what others may call resolutions; I’m going to consider commitments to myself and to others.
My first commitment is to myself. I am going to try to live a healthier lifestyle. Now, that doesn’t mean I’m going to chide myself for eating sweets or not exercising, if I forget to, or if I eat more sweets than I usually do. What that means is I’m also going to try to be positive to myself and others in my thinking in my conversation and in my Email. I will listen more and try to only give wisdom when I feel it is necessary to do so.
My second commitment is to those of you who read my blog on a regular basis. I will try to make this a place where anyone who reads here will feel welcome to comment at any time. I’ve appreciated all of you so much for being there through the trial of watching Mom slip off into eternity. Yet, I want this to be your place as well to share with me.
Finally, I will make an effort to let my husband know he is loved every day for who he is. That’s a commitment I will make daily, because there are days when I just don’t want to, because I’m either angry at him, or I’m frustrated with him being grumpy after a rather trying day at work.
Now, here are some fun ones.
I will say “Go Blue” only when Michigan is playing in a bowl game or a championship game and I will make an effort at keeping up with my Beloved Spartans and say “Go Green” more often.
I will laugh more and I will play more fun songs as a tribute to Mom.
I will make more of an effort to visit the blogs of friends and leave behind comments in my wake when I feel I can contribute. Which brings me to a favor to ask. Indigo, could you please disable the word verification feature on your blog? Google’s audio word verification link tends to not work for me half the time and it seems I’ve hit one of those not willing to work for me periods of time.
Now, if any of you have commitments you think I should adhere to, please feel free to put them up for me as a comment. I promise I will take them under advisement, Lol.
Happy New Year to all!

rambling thoughts on New Year's Resolutions

2007-12-31T04:47:00.000-08:00

am so sick of the disabled community and the lack of respect that is shown to one another. My New Year’s resolution is to try and show a little bit more respect to those who deserve it, by virtue of they’re being who they are!
I know I said I was not going to write more here. But, yesterday, when I was reading my list mail, someone wrote something on the MSB list that really ticked me off. (Tom, if you’re still there, I hope you’ll say something.) The moderator asked if anyone knew a person who was asking to join the group, which is a legitimate question, as he would not know some of the people who were younger or older than himself. What happened then, is this one person who I think is the biggest asshole I’ve ever met, had the gall to say that there were people who were sighted who were trying to join this group, looking for someone. One of the other guys then went on to say that in his work at the Michigan Rehab Training Center, he had encountered people who had high enough vision to drive, who had driven themselves to training.
Sometimes, I think people just don’t stop and take a moment to think about what it is they’re saying. Are you going to tell me that two of the people I know are on that list have no rite to be there, because they can drive? One admits he had no rite to probably be at the school in the first place. It had been a decision between his eye doctor and his parents that he would attend there. But, Tom, for anyone to say you have no rite to drive, let alone be part of the group? Give me a break! You worked too hard at trying to survive, let alone you have more “vision” in more ways than one than most of the people there! I would have written something on the group. However, I didn’t trust my mind, let alone my fingers with what I wanted to say.
On two of my lists, we’ve been dealing with a problem of a different sort. However, it’s an issue of grief. My friend and fellow logger Suzanne R. just found out yesterday that her mother passed away. Suzanne, I hope you know our thoughts and prayers are with you over here. If anyone wants to drop a note to her on her blog, it’s http://newsuzannerslife.blogspot.com Know that if anyone does do that, everyone who is heare was invited by me in the first place, Sweetie.
May we all try to express love in a deeper and more positive way in 2008.

A special thank you to all

2007-12-29T16:22:00.000-08:00

I'm actually feeling a bit better now that I've started back to work again, though today, you would have wondered if I really was feeling okay. I went to work with a headache, and it seems to have let up a bit. However, it felt like it was from my eyes. Having artificial eyes can be a pain in more ways than one. I was looking forward to going with my husband to an acoustic music jam. However, hearing hammer dulcimers mindlessly banging out the same tune in unison really did not appeal to my head tonight.

Yesterday, I went into the office to do thre massages. However, thanks to another snowstorm, one of my clients was stranded on I96 in traffic, about an hour and a half in normal circumstances from where I was. So, he'll be coming in on New Year's Eve. I had four half hour ones to do today, which was not how things were originally supposed to go. I was only supposed to have two half hour ones and one hour one. However, the husband of one of my clients was in bad enough shape for her and I to realize she needed to split her hour massage in between them both

I just want to thank all of you for being there for me, as I began the process of working through my grief. I know that I will have periods of time where I will find it difficult. Yet, each and every one of you who have read my blog, whether you've commented or not, have blest me with your presence. I appreciate that more than I can tell you.
I had promised the cookie recipe I came up with for what I call Therapeutic Cookies. They're therapeutic, because the dough takes a lot of energy to make.
2 butter quarters
1 cup granulated sugar
1 half cup brown sugar
2 eggs
Splash of vanilla
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
pinch of salt
2 cups flour
4 cups oats
3 teaspoons cinnamon
1 third cup each dried cherries, dried cranberries and walnuts
1 half to 1 cup chocolate chips.

Cream the butter, sugars, eggs and vanilla together. Add the flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon gradually while mixing. Fold in the oatmeal gradually. Add and fold the dried fruits, nuts and chocolate chips. Chill in the fridge for one hour. (This dough may require you to mix it with your hands towards the end.

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Break off hunks of dough with your hands and shape into balls. Place them on a grease cookie sheet and bake for eight to ten minutes. Cool before removing.

I hope that all of you will have a blest New Year, as I am not sure I'll be writing again before then.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-24T20:49:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve has ended. Christmas Day is beginning. I'm content, because i know I have lots of wonderful friends who are prayign for me and taking care of me. But, I'm also still feeling the holiday haze around me.

At the Christmas Eve service tonight, we sang all of Mom's favorite carols. I was relieved to be surounded by my friend Melissa and my husband, because that enabled me to sing harmonies, something Mom would have loved to have heard, I think, though in our church that was never spontaneous.

I still smell the cookies I made earlier in the day. It was a sort of experiment, though they worked out fine. I made tiny oatmeal cookies with dried cherries, chocolate chips, cranberries and walnuts in them. They taste fine, except you can tell the chocolate chips were an inferior brand. As I made the cookie dough, I listened to the "Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols" on our public radio station. It was a tradition between my father and I when he was alive. We would listen to that together, drinking our coffee and talking. It felt good to be thinking of both of them, knowing they're both celebrating Christmas in Heaven together, or at least I hope so.

Will be going to my friend Fran's house for Christmas dinner, or actually her niece's house. I think I'm up to it, though right now, as it's nearing time for me to close my eyes, I can't know what the day is going to bring. So, let me leave off by saying, Merry Christmas.

Speech I gave at Mom's Memorial

2007-12-20T07:34:00.000-08:00

I personally would like to thank all of you who have come here today to honor the memory of our Mother, Sherry Raynor. The many tributes we have received are evidence to us of how much you loved and appreciated her. I know that many of you have memories of Mom that you will share with us around the tables downstairs, or withus privately. I look forward to hearing some of those memoires.

Some of you probably wonder how it feels to have been the catalyst for Mom's work. I tend not to think about it, the way I used to as a child, because I've come to believe each and everyone of us were a catalyst in who Mom came to be as a wife, a mother, a teacher, an educator, a humanitarian and an advocat.

I remember asking Mom once if she ever got tired, as many of you know she'd work nonstop for long periods of time. She actually yawned when she answered yes. I then asked her why she kept doing so much. Her response to me was, "Who else will do it?"

"Who else will do it?" Maybe that's the question we should all ask as we live out our own lives and leave behind our own legacies. For as many of you know, that's the way, Mom always lived her life. She lived by her belief just knowing she could do what she could to make this world a lot brighter place to live. Whether she was working with pre-school blind children and/or their families and teachers, flying to another country to give a speech, attending track meets, football games, concerts and plays in which her children were participating, she was always there.

I'm so glad Mom impacted so many lives with her sense of humor, her encouraging workds, her "tell it like it is" attitude, her willingness to fight for anything she felt was right. Whenever any of us think about and remember her, may we always remember to do what we do as if no one else can do it better.

Mom, we love you and we'll miss you. But, we will carry on the legacy you've left behind for all of us, to pursue and fulfil. our destinies. If we don't, then it's just as you said to me. "Who else will do it?"

Mom's snow

2007-12-16T11:08:00.000-08:00

Does anyone else remember the old-fashioned Christmas snows? Well, we got it this weekend. My husband is out blowing the snow off the walk, in case we have church this morning. He has lit the pine scented candles, so that it smells like Christmas. I’m sitting her drinking a cup of coffee and just enjoying being up. I have on sweater and slacks, because I have no desire to wear a skirt or dress in this stuff, because it would mean wearing any shoes but my tennis shoes!

Tom, I could not help thinking of you and wishing you could see the wonder of God’s creation made soft by lots of white fluffy snow. (Yes, I did read your blog archives, and I remember you writing something about how the sight of snow reminds you of your souls being cleansed.) I was thinking about that particular statement of Tom’s from his blog, as I went out and checked on the snow last night, a couple of times. How beautiful! How true!

I hear that down where you are, there’s rain falling. Though not the same experience, I’m praying that brings revival to the South’s dry land.

I cannot help but think of Mom and falling snow at my father’s house he built in Okemos at 4086 Dobie Road. The house for those who have been in Okemos is situated between the bridge and the railroad tracks, which made going to the middle school easy for my family. Dad put a lot of thought into that house. It was huge. But, the thing was, in winter, it was the most home feeling of any of the houses any of our friends lived in and they knew it! I’ll never forget snow days at my house. Mom made sure there was plenty of milk for cocoa. The pot of coffee was always on for mothers who came to pick up their kids. If we had colds, she would take things like lemonade and tang mix and make hot drinks for colds, even if you weren’t her kids. And vats of soup! Not an easy task for Mom, since she had six kids of her own. But, in the winter, there was always soup!

In the living room, Dad had built a fireplace. Often, I remember him sitting by the fire, smoking his pipe full of barking dog tobacco, ready and willing to tell us a story.

Downstairs was our huge playroom. (I don’t knee if Tom will remember the Christmas of 73, when the day students got an extra day or two of vacation from MSB. I’ll never forget it!) My sister Chrissie and her daughter Jennifer came over to the house, and Dad made us all curl up on the huge couch in our playroom, so he could tell us a story.

I remember Christmas of my sixth grade year, or close to it. The snow had fallen thick and heavy. We could get Channel 6 on our radios. (Still can in Lansing or Jackson). That was a treat for me, because that night, I stayed up to listen to the Walton’s Home coming Christmas special. Then, I called in sick the next day. Mom didn’t even bat an eye.

I remember being stranded at MSB in the blizzard of 78, and hating it. I didn’t mind being with my friends. It’s just it didn’t feel the same, because I was always home when the snow fell. There was supposed to be a wrestling meet that day when classes were canceled and we were shut up in our dorms. I remember being relieved, because we had all dressed in our cheer leading uniforms, anticipating the meet. (Sorry, Tom. I for one was not willing to sacrifice my legs just so you guys could wrestle.) I remember eating popcorn with my dorm mates and feeling a bit sad, though I wrote a story while there. But, it wasn’t the same. I wanted to e home. I wanted to feel safe with my family around me. Though Mom and Dad were divorced, Dad had gone to the house to hang out.

On Saturday, Dad came and got me. I think they all wanted me home as much as I wanted to be there. The cool thing was, I was supposed to start at Okemos that next week. However, with the snow days, exams had gotten canceled. But, classes got canceled on Monday and Tuesday as well there. So, my delay was a whole week longer or was it two? I can’t remember. I think it was two though, because the weekend in question, I remember going to the Diary of Anne Frank with my youth group and that next weekend, I was participating in a ski race.

Now, that race, I’ll never forget. We had another snow like this one, making road conditions treacherous at best. Also, course conditions. I was going down the hill for the practice run, and the hill was a snow covered ice pack. I fell, twisting my right knee. Everyone watched me the rest of the day and convinced me to just take aspirin the next morning and try again.

I fell again on the second run of the race, hurting my knee even more. I started my days at Okemos, hobbling around with a knee that didn’t want to work properly.

I digress here. Well, not really all that much, because during all those times Mom was there, cocoa pan and coffee pot always at the ready.

Christmas snows were even more special. The smell of Christmas trees, fudge, cocoa, coffee, sausage frying, Dad’s pipe, Mom’s turkey soup, the turkey at Christmas dinner, the sound of cracking nuts and fire in the fireplace, Christmas carols, the feel of home.

Mom, you probably wanted all of us to remember your Christmas snows. That’s why you blest us by making sure we remembered those times, rather than grieved over your leaving us at this time. Thank you for that!

We did have church. Road conditions are not the best right now. But, it was still fun to go walking out in the snow to our car, hearing it crunch and feeling more snow falling and still more in that air. I have no idea how much we’ll get. Bert is using the snow thrower right now, trying to get the latest batch of snow out of the way.

It was hard playing Christmas carols and thinking of Mom, and how much she would have enjoyed this special time of year! Keep snowing, to remind us Mom is home this Christmas, home where she always wanted to be!

Sherry Raynor

2007-12-11T15:10:00.000-08:00

Sherry Raynor

Born 8-18-1930

Died 12-10-2007

Sherry Raynor was born Sherry Diane Nevins on August 18, 1930 to James Cyril Nevins and Ebba Ebbesen Nevins. She grew up in the Depression in the Upper Peninsula. She was the granddaughter of emigrants from Sweden and Norway on her mother’s side and was of Irish descent on her father’s side. She is the older sister of Christine Nevins Ronan.

When she was in her high school years, Sherry and her family moved to South Haven, Michigan. She was their Peach Queen and she graduated from high school in 1948.

In 1949, she met and married Robert Storrer and they settled in Owosso, Michigan. They had three children: Robert, Christine and Sandra.

She met my father Louis Raynor, when she was studying art classes at Michigan State University, where he was a professor in ceramics. In 1959, she married Dad and they had three children: Ebba, Nels and Beatrice. They settled in Okemos.

When I was born, the family had to make significant adjustments, since I was born without eyes. Mom was tireless in looking for services to help me cope. But, she also encouraged the rest of the family and herself to let me live a nearly normal life. Often were the times when I would help with cake baking, picking out vegetables and other things in the kitchen, just so I could learn.

Mom received a degree in education when I was little, and went to work for Ingham Intermediate School district, first as a homebound teacher, and later to head up its pre-school program for the blind in 1971, on the campus of Michigan School for the Blind. She continued as its director until 1979. In the fall of that year, she moved to the Perkins Institute in Watertown, Massachusetts to continue her work until she resigned in 1983, so that she could devote more time to her own private non-profit organization, the International Institute for Visually Impaired.

In 1979, Mom, along with a small group of friends, started the International Institute for the Visually Impaired, Inc., which later became the Blind Children’s Fund. This was an institute that provided information for parents to help their pre-school blind children to function independently as much as possible in a world where they could not see. This meant that Mom would have to start traveling in earnest to gather what information she could and so that she could participate in studies going on. She published two books for parents and teachers called “Get a Wiggle On” and “Move It”. I believe these were the first two books available in Braille for parents and teachers who were blind who had pre-schoolers. The International Institute for Visually Impaired changed its name to Blind Children’s Fund in the late 90’s.

Mom loved being there for her children. I remember her always trying to make the time to attend our Christmas programs at school and church, track meets and football games, plays, band, orchestra and choir concerts and art shows. Even when we were grown and moved away, Mom still would come to anything we were doing if she had the time.

Mom loved Art. She loved making pewter jewelry, benches with small ceramic tiles on them and small clay owls. However, she excelled in pottery after retiring from the Blind Children’s Fund in 2001.

Mom loved to travel. She made several excursions to Mexico where she studied Spanish and began collecting masks. She’s also been to Russia, Israel, Denmark, England, Germany and Australia, just to name a few places, due to her work. She was planning on going to Vietnam this year.

Most of all, Mom loved getting away from life whenever she had a chance. She often would go visit my father until his passing in 1999 in the small town of Leland, where he retired. Often, she could be seen working on art, collecting stones, walking, cooking for Dad and herself, and basically thinking.

Mom was preceded in death by her parents, both her former husbands, various aunts, uncles and cousins. She is survived by her sister Christine, all her children, two stepsons Raymond and Fletcher, eight grand children and eight great-grandchildren.

The Waiting...

2007-12-06T06:39:00.000-08:00

It's been six weeks since Mom was admitted to the hospital. Things don't look good at all. For the third time, she has been put on the bentilator. (I had no idea it had been that many times until I visited her yesterday and the nurse talked with me.)

I don't know what to think. Why does my sister and her partner feel it necessary to prolong a life that is not going to be a quality of life Mom would have wanted? My brother Nels was there when I got there and he pointed out to me that certain members of my family had lied, so that Mom could be vented, even though it states in her will that this is not what she wanted.

It looks so strange to see her lying in her bed, hooked up to a machine, her hands feeling so warm they're almost on fire, her hair lifeless feeling and dull even through the gloves I had to wear. I gave her Reiki, taking my chances, as that meant getting nearer to her than just holding her hand. But, I'm believing I will not become ill.

I know he is reading this, and I know I've said this to him twice already However, Tom C.'s words to me on Monday night, when I was reading an Email from him to me with regards to my family broke a dam that needed to be broken, and I cried for two and a half hours straight. My family is sending mixed messages to each other. My two sisters who are taking the most cae of Mom are saying that those of us who are healthy, aren't helping enough. Yet, they were also telling me that it would be useless for me to go, because I would not be able to tell if she was awake or responsive. Tom's question was exactly what I thought which was "I wonder where the love is"?

When I told him he was an angel of healing and that his words helped me, his response was he was "Just a nosy ole man that couldn't keep his mouth shut". No, dear friend. Wheter you realized it or not, you let God speak through you to my battered soul. And I do mean it, I will be there for you any time you need it as well.

More on Mom

2007-12-01T20:58:00.000-08:00

Well, I talked with my sister Sandy today, after I had heard a message from her on Thursday. In the message on Thursay, she told me that Mom was improving and was able to breathe on her own. She also told me that they were looking at palliative care options for Mom. She and Ebba had talked about moving her near Ebba in Leland, because Mom knew Leland, and they thought it would be less of a shock for her if she was there.

When I talked with Sandy today, after talking with a couple of friends of mine who were nurses, she told me that she was pretty sure no senior program would accept Mom into their program, because of the MRSA. She did say that they were continuing to look at programs near Ebba. However, when I told her that Bert and I had talked about arranging our schedules in order to visit Mom, she said that gave them something to think about, since "I know you will be a responsible adult". Why wouldn't I be? She's my Mom!

Mom has been moved to the step down unit. They are still feeding her through her nose. The amazing thing is they found no bed sores on Mom. They credit that to her constantly moving around in her sleep. She doesn't always know who people are.

There's a chance I may have to go spend time with her to fill in the gap, while Sandy goes to the hospital in Chicago to have some tests run, and Ebba is arranging her schedule so she can come back down.

Still issues of unforgiveness between most of my family and my brother Bob, and I don't think that will change any time soon. Apparently, a conversation my sister Ebba had with him didn't go as well as she would have liked. They are also frustrated with our sister Chris and our brother Nels, though in his case, he's having to work extra hours, and when you work for yourself that can lend to not having much time.

faith

2007-11-29T10:40:00.000-08:00

Gosh, I sometimes hate Email lists. When two of the lists go off on the same subject in different ways, and you get too much Email. I've kept my own list down to a dull roar on the subject of faith, though faith is the basis for my starting the list. But, when the other list is a list for school alumni, and it gets out of hand, you have to wonder. Tom, I'm in a way grateful you're on both lists with me, because it gives me someone to go back to and ask, "which way is up".

Watching the various threads on the MSB list that had to deal with faith, I found myself wondering about a discussion I had had with several people about my faith lately, and I keep asking myself, do I talk too much about my faith? Do I not listen? Am I not silent enough when I need to be? Do I scare people away? Am I really being a credit to God's kingdom?

I was riding to BNI this Tuesday morning with my friend Wess, ostensibly because I was feeling a need to be in a car rather than on a city bus, and I posed some of these questions to him. He wisely let me talk on and finally, when I said that maybe, if I'm asking these questions, I'm really okay, he looked at me and said that everyone goes through that at one time or another.

I hope that in my head, I can believe that. However, my heart would rather know if I'm being too forward with certain people, and I guess I would want to know if they really think my compassionate side is not showing the way I would want it to.

Just heard from my sister Sandy on Mom. She's resting comfortably. The breathing tube has been removed and she is breathing on her own. She might be moved to palliative care in a couple of weeks if all continues to go the way that it is. Thank you so much for your prayers!

Thanksgiving, 2007

2007-11-22T05:22:00.000-08:00

I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a roof over my head. My husband and I have been married fourteen years. We bought this house seven years ago. Yet, I feel like it's become my home. I have my guitars, my keyboard, food on the table, clothes to wear and friends who write me often, just to find out if I'm okay and this computer from which I can write to all of them.

So, why is it I feel so helpless, so small?

I think of Mom, lying in her hospital bed. While the doctors are saying that she is strong and she is fighting to stay alive, it's taking her a while to respond to questions asked by my sisters. Sandy told me that she got her to open her eyes and move her feet on Tuesday. Ebba has only gotten her to open her eyes. Sandy said that she tried to talk to her. But, Mom's face became constricted in pain when she tried to speak.

Sandy said that if she stops responding and the doctors tell her and Ebba that she's given up, they will pull the plug. Surviving on a respirator with IV needles, medication that keeps her sedated, whatever treatment they're using for MRSA., becoming agitated if someone stays too long. I can't imagine what she's going through.

Waiting, waiting for what? I just pray whatever the outcome, I will be brave enough to walk down whatever road God has in store for me. For now, I will be thankful for what time I've had with her, for everything going on around me, the blessings all of you have been who are reading this. Yet, I feel so alone.

Sometimes, I hate being the link between Mom's friends and the rest of the family. Mom and her oldest son are not speaking to each other. They haven't for six years, since his wife took over Mom's business when she retired. Ebba and I have taken turns calling Bob and letting him know what's going on. Well on Tuesday, a friend of the family, who has sided with Bob and Karla all along, called me and dared to suggest to me, that we should try to get Mom to speak to Bob. I told her that she needed to let it go, that she needed to understand Mom was fighting for her life. She then said she was sure Mom had told Ebba that she needed to smoke when she came round.

Other frirneds, like Jane McChesney, broke down crying in my years, and I had to be strong for her. Donna, her other friend, who I know probably is reading this. Donna, dear friend to all, gentle and calm, even now.

Sometimes though, I just need to know someone is there for me, and right now is one of those times.

Waiting. How long, Dear God? How long?

More on Mom

2007-11-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

Just talked to my sisterSandy. Mom is stable. But, really no change in her condition other than that. They still don't know everything that is going on. Visitation is not recommended, as she is contageous. Plus, she gets agitated if anyone is there.

At this point, my sister Sandy is waiting for my sister Ebba to get there. Supposedly, she is coming on Tuesday. We are concerned though, as Ebba has a compromised immune system, due to cancer treatments she's had in the past.

Ihad thought about going away for the weekend on a one day retreat with the Center for Women. However, I just found out how my Mom is doing at 8:00 this morning, and can't realy think about anything else. I realize there's nothing I can do to help. However, I'm also the link between my family and our family friends however tenuous that is, as I have to wait on information.
So, the waiting continues. It's hard, not knowing how things are going to be. Personally, it only makes me treasure the time with my husband that much more and with my friends, whether on line or physical. I love and appreciate you all so much. You truly are the family I was supposed to ahve and at this time of year, when we should be thankful, that is what I am thankful for.

Mom

2007-11-13T18:15:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I received a phone call from my sister Sandy. The phone call was in regards to my mother. I knew something was wrong, because the caller ID said "Call from Raynor Sherry", and it was a little after 3:00 in the afternoon. Mom never calls me at that time.

I had been dreading just such a phone call, since I had visited Mom after her last hospital stay last month.

At that time, Mom had come home from somewhere, went to get out of her car and fell into a sitting position outside her car. She then spent the next ten hours sitting outside her locked car. Actually, it was a little less than that, because at around 3:00 in the morning, she was able to get up enough strength to get into her car, retrieve her cell phone and try to call my brother Nels. She left a message on his cell phone and he came and found her three hours later. The date was October 2, a relatively warm day as I do recall, thank God.

At that point, Mom was in the hospital for close to a week. My sisters were all there to take care of her. None of them thought that it would be a good idea to call me, until things had settled down a bit. Typical of my family. I'm usually the last to know, though now that Mom isn't speaking to her oldest son, he's the last to know anything, because I'm the one to call him.

On October 17, Bert and I went to visit Mom in her home. My sister Sandy was visiting with her at the time, and we had a nice visit. Yet, we both walked away, knowing that we probably would be getting a call similar to the one we got yesterday. It's just none of the family thught it would be this soon.

Four days after my sister left my Mom's on October 23, she was checked back into the hospital again. They don't know totally what is wrong with her. They are running all kinds of tests, with results that are inconclusive in showing what is wrong with her at this point. Sandy said that she would have called me sooner. However, she has had to field all the phone calls that have been coming n for Mom, cancel all Mom's appointments, assure friends that Mom is still alive, because one friend actually told a bunch of people Mom was dead.

They do know Mom has MRSA. My sister Ebba had gone to visit her at the time, not knowing Mom had MRSA. She herself has a compromised immune system due to cancer treatments. From what her doctor said to her, she has been ordered not to come down again, until they know that Mom is well enough for Ebba to visit.

My sister Sandy said that Mom doesn't recognize anyone, except at short intervals, probably because of all the medications they have had her on. The have transferred her from ICU several times to a main floor, only to have her get worse again and have to go back up to ICU.

As I heard about Mom's health deteriorating from a distance, I found myself thinking how grateful I was that anything I had needed to forgive Mom for had already been done. Yet, I knew, just about everyone else in my family has a grudge against her. My older brother Bob, (her oldest son from a marriage before she married my father), and my Mother are no longer speaking to each other. They haven't for the past six years, since Karla my sister-in-law had taken over Mom's work when she retired. Mom actually told him that she would disown him, unless he divorced Karla. How wrong it is for one to dictate what their children should do, as she often did to all of us in our adult lives. But, that was just her way of exerting control.

I've often wondered why it is my brothers and sisters have chosen not to talk to me about this particular topic. The only answer I can come up with is that none of them have truly forgiven her. All of them were extremely apologetic the last time Mom had ended up in the hospital, because Mom was furious with them all for not calling me, her baby. They had sworn they would never do thatagain. Yet it happened again yesterday.

Mom, I'm so sorry, that none of your children seem to think it best to keep in touch with each other, due to problems we had at home with you. My prayer is that some healing will take place before you go wherever God leads you to. We need to forgive you, as you also need to forgive us for any wrongs that have occurred in our lives. I pray that my siblings will be able to do that soon, before it's too late.

To serve one's country and one's God

2007-11-12T06:11:00.000-08:00

Veterans Day yesterday at church was special. First James had all the Veterans and all those who served in the military stand up to be acknowledged. Then, he had all the men come up and sing "Holy Holy Holy" as a group.

As I listened, I thought all of us who had served the military at home, while they were off fighting in the different wars that were represented. My heart swelled with pride, as I thought of my years of service and how my Father, (a navy man in World War II) told me he was proud of me for serving my country in a way that on one else in my family would have done.

From 1991, until 1995, I was a Red Crosser. I signed on during Desert Storm. I think I called to be interviewed as a volunteer, three days after the air war began. That's really no surprise to me that I signed up then, because we as a nation were inundated with presse confrences, war footage, reports of Bob Simon being captured while reporting, Israel being attacked by Iraq in retaliation, and one woman in our church crying repeatedly for her husband who was serving in the Army.

I remembered when I interviewed, they first had me sign up to be a receptionist for the health and safety branch, which I did until I left that particular Red Cross chapter in Kalamazoo in 1992. But, my heart was elsewhere. I wanted to serve the men and their families. How could taking calls about First Aid classes do that? Plus, I thought with my social work background, I would be needed there. But, that was God's way of telling me to be patient.

Two weeks later, I interviewed with Evelyn for the Community Services branch. Well, serving the community was a closer step right? But, as Evelyn listened to me, she told me that she thought I could serve them better elsewhere and then went to get Phil Ackerman.

Phil was the head of the service to military families branch. He took one look at me, and he told me that he knew I could do the job, because he had known a woman who was a social work student with him in college who was also blind. I knew whom he spoke of, as I had heard of Marcie Couch for years.

I started serving in the office for a time. But, Phil noticed that other workers either out front or in the office with me, were not really utilizing me. So, when Terri said she needed me another day in the health and safety branch, Phil suggested I could be an overnight sub and work the overnight shift. He thought this would be more than possible that I could do a good job at that.

My first couple of shifts, I had a couple of community emergency service calls and probably one services to military family call per night. Then, came a night in mid June, early July, when the overnight person could not serve, and there were tornado warnings all over the county. Phil told me he really needed me to cover, and I agreed to do so. That night, I covered five community emergency service calls and four service to military families calls.

shortly after that, one of the volunteers quit and moved out of the area. Phil gave me the shift, and I averaged at least one to three military family calls a night. Plus, I worked as the weekend sub and often had two to three calls per weekend.

I was the one family members cursed, because I had to call them to tell them often that there might be a delay in getting their service person home. I was also the one who was blest, because I was there to comfort them when they needed someone to give them an ear. They would yell at me, if they did not have their service person's proper APO or fPO codes, social scecurity number, rank etc.

I was the one doctors hated to have call, because they found it increasingly difficult to have to say whether a person should come home or not. But, I never gave up.

The answering service people whoo had to patch calls into me often, told me that they never could understand why it was I was so calm about the calls when I received them, compared to some of the other volunteers. I told them, it was my duty to my country.

When I moved to South Haven in 1992, I continued serving as a Red Crosser, often having to stay up four to eight hours a night working on one or two cases. I'll never forget the family who called with two brothers to contact. They thanked me for listening for being there and for helping, when I called the next morning to see how they were doing. I'll never forget the distraught family I had to call on Thanksgiving Day, because they needed to get a nephew home. I'll never forget the case of a military person's uncle committing suicide. He made the choice not to go home. But, he asked that someone tell his Dad to call him, when he could think straight enough to do so.

I have not served here in Jackson for the Red Cross. However, it was not for lack of trying. I was just not needed.

What a look back, I thought as the men were still singing. I then thought about how we can still serve our country and our God by our prayers continually for our troops, and how we as soldiers in God's army should do the same for each other.

Men and women of faith, never forget that your prayers are serevice to your contry and to your God.

Use Common Sense

2007-11-08T09:36:00.000-08:00

Recently, I received an Email post twice from two different sources, telling me not to go see the movie "The Golden Compass" and to condemn it outright, because the author of the books the movie is based on is an Atheist. One of the times I read that article was on my own list, and as I read it, I found myself muttering, "Oh no. Here we go again. Drama is going to hit the list, and I really don't want that."

The "Drama" didn't happen. Instead, my friend Tom C. who I've known on and off for the past thirty plus years, asked a simple question. "Don't you think you should see the movie before condemning it?"

The other person who sent the article told me that she hoped Tom would research the information at hand before writing such a question again. While I can understand where she is coming from, I have to disagree. Maybe it'sbecause I see the internet, particularly Email lists used as a place where too often articles are sent, that don't have enough information in them about the topics of which they are written. Whatever happened to the days when parents had open discussions with their children about the differences between good and evil, or about creation and science?
I loved it when my Dad and I would sit on the couch when I was a child, and he would read to me. This was a practice we started when I was very little. Dad always had me tag along with him to his studio andcreate art with him. But, the reading times were the best.

When I started my freshman yeear of high school, Dad and I both felt it was time to graduate to reading classics, such as "The Hobbit" and the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, books like "Chesapeake" and "The Covenant", anything that would stimulate my mind. We often had discussions about these books that were quite stimulating.

I wonder what Dad would do now with his grandchildren if he were alive. Would he practice the same tradition with them and discuss the Harry Potter Books, or "The Golden Compass"? Probably, because Dad was from a long line of people who loved to learn. I know he encouraged all of us to do that. I think though, if I had children, I probably would be the one to carry on that tradition, because he did it with me the most.

Wally and Katie Metts have practiced that tradition in their household as well. I always loved it after Shaklee meetings, when Bert and I, along with Wally and Katie would settle around their kitchen table in their basement kitchen in their house that they lived in at the time. They've since moved into a lovely spacious home, where the creative spirit abounds, and I know once Wally is well enough, we'll go back to that practice around their kitchen table again, over a pot of wonderful tea.

I remember one such discussion very clearly about the time the Harry Potter books were beginning to be popular. I think Michael was twelve and Pilgrim was ten. Can't remember offhand. I had heard several Christian commentators say that Christian children should not read those books. Somehow, the topic came up at the table. I asked Katie how she felt about those books as a parent. Her response to me was refreshing. She told me that she allowed her children to read them, because she knew where they stood with regards to imagination, faith in God, following Christ.

Why shouldn't more kids who are Christian have that opportunity? I think the answer is apathy. Parents and schools are putting way too much emphasis on the internet and computers and not enough on books. Books have been there long before people started putting things up in cyber space as gospel, long before films were made of them, films that for the most part don't even really follow the books in question.

I would only ask that those who sent forwards to others Email, please look at the information being sent very carefully. Think about whether enough information is beign given in the forward. If not, please realize that what you're thinking of doing is cluttering up space in a person's in box that really doesn't need to be cluttered up unless you're going to encourage people to look whatever information is out there. Remember, your parents just as mine, would not have done that to you, if Email had existed then. Why should you do that to everyone else?

How Dirty is your towel?

2007-11-04T06:46:00.000-08:00

I love it every time I hear Toby Teague preach at an Emmaus Walk event. His talks are clear, simple and concise. But, the thing I like about him most, is how real he is as a pastor, reaching out to the very soul of those who will listen to him.

Last night, at the candlelight service for the Women's walk, he gave a small devotion using towels as a prop. The way he did it, I knew he was thinking about me in particular, because he described everything. He began by telling the story of how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, while at Passover with them, the night he was betrayed. He then went on to ask what kind of towel it was Jesus used. Would it be like the guest towels in our house, you know the ones you're told not to touch. He even held up one of those holiday towels for everyone to see.

He then held up a beach towel and talked about how they were used for fun. Would it be that type of towel Jesus would use? Finally, he then asked, if maybe Jesus towel would look like one that had gotten a lot of use. He then held up a dirty old towel he uses for oil changes.

As I listened, I found myself wondering about my faith. I'd like to think I'm reaching out enough. But, am I? Am I doing what I can to bless my Lord and my God, or am I just paying lip service to things around me? I have to believe I'm doing the former. Yet, I also know there are days when I'm doing the latter. Do I depend on God enough to help me with healing, or do I just sort of let the work I'm doing on a client be background noise to my life?

How strange to think we all do that, tend to abuse our faith by calling out to Him, only when we want something, because we want the towels of our life to be clean. Yet, if Jesus were to look at me today, I'd want him to see how dirty my towel was for him. Am I doing enough? Are any of you?

healing the planet

2007-11-03T07:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I received a rather disturbing Email from a friend, telling all of us she was going to be leaving all the groups on a particular server. I received this, after getting into a discussion with a friend about the primaries going on in the coming months.

I guess I find it hard to understand why it is, we all have to be so unkind to each other. Why should this particular woman offend me and everyone who is a part of the groups on the server by leaving a bunch of drama in her wake, especially since she'll close down her own groups within a month? I left her group, after reading her letter, because frankly, I cannot stomach her doing this to people repeatedly!

Why is it, we have to sit and listen to those who are running for office all over, as if what they have to say is Gospel? Why should Christians listen to Dr. Dobson as the only authority on political parties, particularly since he is so insistent on saying that Christians should not vote for third party candidates, even if they support the issues we hold dear? Why should we vote for the lesser of two evils, rather than use our God given brains for once to say, 'No! We will not stand for this!"

Shouldn't we instead concentrate on sharing healing energy with each other to help out with physical, emotional and spiritual problems? Instead of complaining about the problems that exist within the leadership of our country, Shouldn't we do something about them? Should we not pray here in Michigan for those in the South who are experiencing an unprecendented drought, and for those in California who are losing their homes to fires, rather than stick our heads in the sand and say that the problems don't exist?

I seem to rememberreading somewhere that God did say we would subdue the Earth. And, I understand we cannot do anything until after we have. But, the fact of the matter is, it feels to me like the end of our planet is coming too near for comfort. I'm not ready to give up yet. I want to as long as I'm breathing do what I can to show kindness, rather than spend my time being angry.

The Real Intro

2007-11-01T10:34:00.000-07:00

This is my place to share with all of you, who I am, how I got to this place, and general thoughts I experience while working in the healing professions. As a musician, a massage therapist and a Reiki practitioner, I often find myself asking why it is, I can't seem to get my thoughts and feelings out quickly enough. Please join me in sharing these thoughts and express your own as well.

Let me tell you a little about how I got to where I am.

I was born totally blind in 1963, the youngest child in a blended family of eight kids. My parents realized quickly that I was an avid learner of music, and I enjoyed art. My father was a teacher of ceramics at Michigan State University for over forty years. Mom began learning how to work with blind children, just so she could help me. Her career in the field of blind education is noteworthy.

In 1968, I started attending Michigan School for the blind, and I attended there full time, until the winter months of 1978, when I started going to public school part time. I did that until 1979, when my mother took me out of school and we went for seven weeks to Mexico, where I studied Spanish. I then moved with herfor the next two years to Massachusetts , and lived in the bedroom community of Newton. That in itself is a story.

In 1982, I had the distinct pleasure of graduating from the Interlochen Arts Academy, after attending there for a year. I studied piano and voice while there. I also rebeled, because as a guitar player, I found folk music to be more to my liking. I'm still that way.

I attended Michigan State from 1982-1988, obtaining a double bachelors in arts and social work. In 1990, I graduated from the Masters program in social work at Western Michigan University.

For two years, I went through a rather dark time of reflection, before I enterd the workforce as a social worker, helping pregnant women on medicaid to get the services they needed. I lost that job three years later, for various reasons.

I spent the next eight months wondering what I was going to do with my life, before finding a social work job with Jackson Community Mental Health.

When I lost that job four months later, I spent the next five years trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up, while working in a variety of different volunteer positions.

I've always loved massage, and I've always known I should be doing that for a living. I finally answered to the calling I was supposed to follow, by signing up for massage school in 2001. I graduated in 2002 and have been doing massage ever since.

I've since completed all three levels of Reiki, knowing that there are those among my Christian bretheren, who would look down on me for doing so. Yet, I also knew that there were those among my friends who would love and support me through those changes.

I owe so much to my friends Katie and Wally Metts for encouraging me to finally do this, and to Tom C. for the shove I needed, just by being a part of his blog community for the last couple of months. All of you knew, I needed the shove necessary to release the creative fast pace of my thoughts in a different medium. Katie and Wally, have been encouraging me and my husband Bert in our musical endeavors, ever since they first heard us. When I started a newsletter, they kept saying to me, "You need to do that as a blog", and I kept kicking and screaming.

Joan F. Thanks for sharing your expertise on the computer to help me set this up muchquicker than I ever could. (Grin)

Mom, and the rest of you, thanks for always being there. I love you.