We prayed for a different diagnosis. We prayed for successful treatment. We prayed for relief from pain and side effects of treatments. We prayed prayers of praise when treatments seem to be working. We prayed laments when good results did not last. We prayed for admittance to clinical trials. We prayed...every day we prayed, sometimes multiple times a day. We prayed for a miracle. When it seemed obvious that healing, at least in this realm, was not to be, we prayed for a peaceful passing not marred by fear of any kind. Perhaps, death is the miracle for those who have suffered so valiantly. Perhaps, it is the miracle for us all. The last grand adventure. We don't know. We just know we prayed.
She fought with grace and determination, exuding joy beyond the comprehension of most of us. She fought for her family for her friends for herself. She fought hard. She loved life. She was a bright light, and we are better for having walked in that light. Even as her body deteriorated, her spirit glowed. The world is better for her having lived in it. What more can we ask?
Now we pray...every day we pray for her husband, her children, her grandchildren and others who walked closely by her through her life's journey. They are grieving. They are in pain. Her grandchildren are young. They may not remember her, but we are confident that they will know and love her from the pictures and stories they will be told throughout their lives.
There are those who would say our prayers are foolish, but she would not have. She solicited our prayers on her behalf, and we honor her by praying for those she loved.
So, we pray. We do not pray in the past tense. Still we pray, regardless of our disappointment in the answers. Every day we pray. We pray in joy and in pain, in plenty and in want. We beg and plead, we cry out in praise that cannot be contained. We pray...and we weep...and we remember.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Friday, June 14, 2019
Mellie Camp Week 2
Let me preface this post with an apology to anyone who happens upon it. There's a lot of pretty boring detail here, but I write these mainly for the boys.
Well, day one dawned with one little buddy having a very rough morning at home. Funny, how that can set the tone for a day. When he joined us, his eyes were red and I could tell that tears had been shed. I'll give him this, he rallied pretty well, but off and on, it did affect his morning. My other sweet empath found his feelings being somewhat tender, and so, pretty much for the first two hours, one or the other was either crying or angry. It was great.
After a stop at Krispy Kreme for a hot glazed donut we headed to town. We started our day in the Civil Rights Room of the main library. They sat at the lunch counter they have there to represent the lunch counter sit-ins. I think, possibly, the main thing they were impressed with was that I actually was alive when the civil rights movement was at its peak. It seems like eons ago to them, but I tried to stress that, indeed, it was not. We watched part of a movie concerning the end of segregation in the schools here in Nashville. As one boy became restless, it was the perfect opportunity to remind him that his best friend in first grade would not have been allowed in his school when I was his age. That hit home a little.
We walked up to the Viet Nam Memorial Park and they ran out some energy, I thought, before we went in the military branch of the state museum. Max wanted to know where the rest of the tree was, and, yes, he was intentionally being funny. It sort of cracked me up. As we walked in, the person at the desk in an authoritative voice said, "do NOT let them touch the artifacts!" I assured her that they knew how to behave. I did not point out to her that the only artifacts that could even remotely be touched were bombs and a bell. I hardly think two seven-year-old boys could have harmed them, but then I did think of my dad always saying that my brother, Mike, "could tear up an anvil." So, perhaps...
An hour ride on the hop-on-hop-off trolley (no way I was letting them off) was filled with "I'm bored I'm cold, how much longer and various other complaints. I pretty much ignored it, except for the occasions when I assured one or the other that I did not care if he was bored for that was a choice he was making. Finally, they perked up when they heard that candy would be handed out at the end of the tour and extra pieces if trivia questions could be answered. We answered one, for I felt it unfair to answer the questions on a trolley full of tourists with my having done some sort of tour of Nashville now for about 38 years. Not to mention, that I certainly did not have all the answers any way.
Lunch was at Subway at one boy's request and to the other one's dismay. When all arguments failed, he wailed, "my parents would not want me to eat at Subway," to which I replied, "how do you think they would feel about Krispy Kreme?" All complaints stopped, but, truthfully, I was the only one who actually ate my lunch.
Nunny's book signing was our next stop at the Hermitage Hotel where two boys acted a bit like maniacs. By that point, it was all a little much for them. After greeting several of the people there in the midst of trying to keep the boys in line, we left. As we walked, supposedly to the car to come home, one boy said, "we didn't earn our treat at The Arcade did we." I asked what behavior he thought might make that a fact. I will give it to him, he named several things that indicated that he had not conducted himself as his best self. I asked my other sweet boy, and he seemed a bit puzzled by what the problem was, but after some prompting, he was able to articulate where the breakdown may have been. I told them they get one grace day each year at camp and this was the day. It was really amazing. The switch came. Behavior improved immensely. Thank yous all around for the treats from The Peanut Shop. It made me think how much better we would all act if we truly appreciated the grace shown us. So, we went back to the Hermitage Hotel where they were perfect gentlemen and earned time on the playground in the library. I was very impressed. I was also extremely exhausted.
Day Two was to be an easy-going day. We went to a movie. The dollar movie. It was PACKED!! The movie was a dollar, but the special treat they provide was quite a bit more. This after I let both my buddies know that we were not ordering "off the menu." It was either the kid pack or nothing. Of course they decided on the kid pack. We found seats way in the back where I sat next to a charming young boy who pretty much had his feet all over me during the entire movie. Well, not the entire movie because about an hour into it, he wailed to his nanny that he was incapable of sitting through a "movie this long." His two-year old sister was screaming for her mom, so the nanny very quietly and kindly left with them.
I still find it hard that I went to a movie that starred a snail who won the Indy 500. Seriously, that is about as ludicrous a plot as I can imagine, and yet, I still found myself pulling for Turbo and applauding when he beat Guy Gangen (sp?) right at the finish line. Both boys enjoyed the movie a lot, but Max did declare it "ridiculous." Simmy enjoys movies thoroughly and laughs out loud at the funny parts, which are usually a little bit "off color,"like some snail with a speech impediment saying "Holy cwap." Why is that funny to little kids? The whole place laughed. I don't know.
The rest of the day consisted of lunch and making crème brulee (YUMMY!) and baked meringues, playing outside, having a fight followed by a Native American Peace Council where Mellie tried out some of her mediation skills. It was moderately successful and they played very well together for quite a few minutes after that. Pop-up cards made for their dads for Father's Day and the day pretty much ended. There was a Hallmark movie with my name on it for the evening. Fizzy was at a gala (spouses did not have to go ~ hallelujah), and so Mellie is resting up for day 3. What adventures await.
Day Three was probably the most beautiful weather day that we will have all summer~mid 70s, breezy, just what I will request for my weather in heaven, if requests are taken. We had been looking forward to going to Cheekwood to see the new Storybook house exhibit. I really wondered if it might be too juvenile for the boys, but, actually, they are the perfect age for it. It was so much fun. The Dr. Seuss house was the first one we visited and they could walk on the roof, go up a climbing wall or a rope ladder, come down a slide, ring bells etc. Of course, it was time for snacks, so we ate fresh cherries and had a cherry-pit spitting contest. I know, classy.
Secondly we went to the Charlotte's Web barn, and for some reason this was their least favorite by far. We did not stay there long. Too bad, because it actually had a bench for the old grandparents to sit on, at least that's what the granddad who was sitting there said to me, so I took advantage of it for all of the 3 minutes we stayed there. Then off to the Peter Rabbit house, which I thought would be their least favorite and turned out to be the favorite. They hauled stuff from here to there, climbed in and out and around hollowed tree stumps, see-sawed on a log see-saw, ran and romped and had a grand old time. We ate lunch there under the trees at a long log table with tree stump seats. We ate organic Cheetos (seriously), watermelon and Lunchables. It was truly one of the most pleasant meals I have had in quite some time.
After lunch, we found the Where the Wild Things Are house It was amazing. Totally amazing...and SCARY!! But, the boys loved it, and we stayed there for a long time. In our effort to find the fifth house, we wandered around and ended up at the creek where the boys removed their shoes and socks and waded until Max stubbed one toe and cut the top of the other. After some medical attention (soaking it in the cold creek) we headed off to find the last house. Yay, for smart phones because I Googled it and learned that it was by the trains.
The day began to break down here and the boys got into a argument that was working its way into a fist fight so we had a little peace council, which did not go as well as I had hoped because my Living Water bracelet, which was the stand-in for our peace stick, got broken. Bummer. We did not come to a satisfactory conclusion to the upset, really, so we headed home. But, we had been there for 4 1/2 hours, and that seemed sufficient.
At home, peace mainly reigned while they made cards for Fizzy for Father's Day, we learned Violet has strep, and watched one show after eating a bit of crème brulee and baked meringues. It was time for me to drive Max home. Simmy rode and all in all it was a most pleasant day with just a few bumps along the way.
I cannot believer it, but Mellie's Summer Camp of Excellence of 2019 is halfway over. I am having to adjust plans because some of what they have always loved doing, like decorating t-shirts, they find not fun. Other plans I will probably change because I am not sure that 2 seven-year-old boys can be trusted to do what I ask in potentially dangerous situations, like touring Cumberland Caverns. I'm still having an internal debate, but I shall not be asking for input from my campers. In that circumstance, this is a dictatorship. So, another week that kept me on my toes, challenged by negotiating skills and patience, and found me getting bunches of hugs. What more could a girl ask?
Well, day one dawned with one little buddy having a very rough morning at home. Funny, how that can set the tone for a day. When he joined us, his eyes were red and I could tell that tears had been shed. I'll give him this, he rallied pretty well, but off and on, it did affect his morning. My other sweet empath found his feelings being somewhat tender, and so, pretty much for the first two hours, one or the other was either crying or angry. It was great.
After a stop at Krispy Kreme for a hot glazed donut we headed to town. We started our day in the Civil Rights Room of the main library. They sat at the lunch counter they have there to represent the lunch counter sit-ins. I think, possibly, the main thing they were impressed with was that I actually was alive when the civil rights movement was at its peak. It seems like eons ago to them, but I tried to stress that, indeed, it was not. We watched part of a movie concerning the end of segregation in the schools here in Nashville. As one boy became restless, it was the perfect opportunity to remind him that his best friend in first grade would not have been allowed in his school when I was his age. That hit home a little.
We walked up to the Viet Nam Memorial Park and they ran out some energy, I thought, before we went in the military branch of the state museum. Max wanted to know where the rest of the tree was, and, yes, he was intentionally being funny. It sort of cracked me up. As we walked in, the person at the desk in an authoritative voice said, "do NOT let them touch the artifacts!" I assured her that they knew how to behave. I did not point out to her that the only artifacts that could even remotely be touched were bombs and a bell. I hardly think two seven-year-old boys could have harmed them, but then I did think of my dad always saying that my brother, Mike, "could tear up an anvil." So, perhaps...
An hour ride on the hop-on-hop-off trolley (no way I was letting them off) was filled with "I'm bored I'm cold, how much longer and various other complaints. I pretty much ignored it, except for the occasions when I assured one or the other that I did not care if he was bored for that was a choice he was making. Finally, they perked up when they heard that candy would be handed out at the end of the tour and extra pieces if trivia questions could be answered. We answered one, for I felt it unfair to answer the questions on a trolley full of tourists with my having done some sort of tour of Nashville now for about 38 years. Not to mention, that I certainly did not have all the answers any way.
Lunch was at Subway at one boy's request and to the other one's dismay. When all arguments failed, he wailed, "my parents would not want me to eat at Subway," to which I replied, "how do you think they would feel about Krispy Kreme?" All complaints stopped, but, truthfully, I was the only one who actually ate my lunch.
Nunny's book signing was our next stop at the Hermitage Hotel where two boys acted a bit like maniacs. By that point, it was all a little much for them. After greeting several of the people there in the midst of trying to keep the boys in line, we left. As we walked, supposedly to the car to come home, one boy said, "we didn't earn our treat at The Arcade did we." I asked what behavior he thought might make that a fact. I will give it to him, he named several things that indicated that he had not conducted himself as his best self. I asked my other sweet boy, and he seemed a bit puzzled by what the problem was, but after some prompting, he was able to articulate where the breakdown may have been. I told them they get one grace day each year at camp and this was the day. It was really amazing. The switch came. Behavior improved immensely. Thank yous all around for the treats from The Peanut Shop. It made me think how much better we would all act if we truly appreciated the grace shown us. So, we went back to the Hermitage Hotel where they were perfect gentlemen and earned time on the playground in the library. I was very impressed. I was also extremely exhausted.
Day Two was to be an easy-going day. We went to a movie. The dollar movie. It was PACKED!! The movie was a dollar, but the special treat they provide was quite a bit more. This after I let both my buddies know that we were not ordering "off the menu." It was either the kid pack or nothing. Of course they decided on the kid pack. We found seats way in the back where I sat next to a charming young boy who pretty much had his feet all over me during the entire movie. Well, not the entire movie because about an hour into it, he wailed to his nanny that he was incapable of sitting through a "movie this long." His two-year old sister was screaming for her mom, so the nanny very quietly and kindly left with them.
I still find it hard that I went to a movie that starred a snail who won the Indy 500. Seriously, that is about as ludicrous a plot as I can imagine, and yet, I still found myself pulling for Turbo and applauding when he beat Guy Gangen (sp?) right at the finish line. Both boys enjoyed the movie a lot, but Max did declare it "ridiculous." Simmy enjoys movies thoroughly and laughs out loud at the funny parts, which are usually a little bit "off color,"like some snail with a speech impediment saying "Holy cwap." Why is that funny to little kids? The whole place laughed. I don't know.
The rest of the day consisted of lunch and making crème brulee (YUMMY!) and baked meringues, playing outside, having a fight followed by a Native American Peace Council where Mellie tried out some of her mediation skills. It was moderately successful and they played very well together for quite a few minutes after that. Pop-up cards made for their dads for Father's Day and the day pretty much ended. There was a Hallmark movie with my name on it for the evening. Fizzy was at a gala (spouses did not have to go ~ hallelujah), and so Mellie is resting up for day 3. What adventures await.
Day Three was probably the most beautiful weather day that we will have all summer~mid 70s, breezy, just what I will request for my weather in heaven, if requests are taken. We had been looking forward to going to Cheekwood to see the new Storybook house exhibit. I really wondered if it might be too juvenile for the boys, but, actually, they are the perfect age for it. It was so much fun. The Dr. Seuss house was the first one we visited and they could walk on the roof, go up a climbing wall or a rope ladder, come down a slide, ring bells etc. Of course, it was time for snacks, so we ate fresh cherries and had a cherry-pit spitting contest. I know, classy.
Secondly we went to the Charlotte's Web barn, and for some reason this was their least favorite by far. We did not stay there long. Too bad, because it actually had a bench for the old grandparents to sit on, at least that's what the granddad who was sitting there said to me, so I took advantage of it for all of the 3 minutes we stayed there. Then off to the Peter Rabbit house, which I thought would be their least favorite and turned out to be the favorite. They hauled stuff from here to there, climbed in and out and around hollowed tree stumps, see-sawed on a log see-saw, ran and romped and had a grand old time. We ate lunch there under the trees at a long log table with tree stump seats. We ate organic Cheetos (seriously), watermelon and Lunchables. It was truly one of the most pleasant meals I have had in quite some time.
After lunch, we found the Where the Wild Things Are house It was amazing. Totally amazing...and SCARY!! But, the boys loved it, and we stayed there for a long time. In our effort to find the fifth house, we wandered around and ended up at the creek where the boys removed their shoes and socks and waded until Max stubbed one toe and cut the top of the other. After some medical attention (soaking it in the cold creek) we headed off to find the last house. Yay, for smart phones because I Googled it and learned that it was by the trains.
The day began to break down here and the boys got into a argument that was working its way into a fist fight so we had a little peace council, which did not go as well as I had hoped because my Living Water bracelet, which was the stand-in for our peace stick, got broken. Bummer. We did not come to a satisfactory conclusion to the upset, really, so we headed home. But, we had been there for 4 1/2 hours, and that seemed sufficient.
At home, peace mainly reigned while they made cards for Fizzy for Father's Day, we learned Violet has strep, and watched one show after eating a bit of crème brulee and baked meringues. It was time for me to drive Max home. Simmy rode and all in all it was a most pleasant day with just a few bumps along the way.
I cannot believer it, but Mellie's Summer Camp of Excellence of 2019 is halfway over. I am having to adjust plans because some of what they have always loved doing, like decorating t-shirts, they find not fun. Other plans I will probably change because I am not sure that 2 seven-year-old boys can be trusted to do what I ask in potentially dangerous situations, like touring Cumberland Caverns. I'm still having an internal debate, but I shall not be asking for input from my campers. In that circumstance, this is a dictatorship. So, another week that kept me on my toes, challenged by negotiating skills and patience, and found me getting bunches of hugs. What more could a girl ask?
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