Once every three years…

 Yes I’m on a roll, apparently I only do this every three years.   But this is ok with me, because clearly I’ve busy doing other things, and the reason I happened to think of this today… I read someone else’s blog, and remembered oh yeah, I was doing that…..

Once upon a time.  

So again,,, today will be short because, well I really have something else I would rather be doing,

And I’m hoping you also have something else you’d rather be doing, if not call me I have a few things you can do to help me… Get stuff done!

Happy Mondays for the next 3 years… or maybe not if I ever get caught up with my to do list.

Later Gator!

Whoa! where'd the last three years go?

 Do you ever just take a look and wonder what in the world have you been doing for the last 20 minutes?  or 3 years?   Yes, that just happened to me.

So what does it mean?  I've been busy....  

LIVING!

What about you? I sure hope you have been doing the same.   Yes, we made it through that yucky time of staying home twidling our thumbs.. and since then.. ....  .....    ....  

CRICKETS?  HELLO?  ANYBODY?  

Unfortunately some have had a little trouble, rebooting!  People slipped into a comfort zone and for some reason they can't find the key to get out.  Let me tell you what that KEY is...   

GET UP and GET OUT!

Yeah, pretty simple.  Turn the TV off, stand up, move your body, pay attention to what you put in your mouth and make sure when it's time for bed your body is ready for rest because it's been moving all day!

REPEAT TOMORROW!

So... that's my short but sweet and informative blog for today! I've got to get moving now.. Look for me on social media or drop me a message.. I love to talk and walk!  

-Later Gators,

Brenda

Monday Motivation

Monday - April 6th, 2020

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭6:9‬ ‭NIV‬‬. https://www.bible.com/111/gal.6.9.niv

Good Monday morning!  I hope everyone had a wonderful Sunday and took some time to feel inspired.

This morning some of you had to physically go to work while others are learning a new normal by working from home. I am wondering if the Monday morning blahs mean the same thing it did just a few weeks ago in this covid-19 world we are living in.   I am concerned many maybe experiencing Monday blah’s every day of the week.   So how do you break the blah!

Well, you could all retire, like me.  I would highly recommend it but I also realize it’s not feasible for everyone to “retire” today.   So instead change your mind about Mondays or any day for that matter.  

The truth is you can set the tone for your day by changing your, ok wait for it... this is the big reveal....  build it bigger.... are you ready... ok here it is.. “CHANGE YOUR FOCUS!” 

Awe,,, you thought it would be bigger or some great mystery, no I’m pretty sure you’ve heard it all before so why are you sitting here wondering how to change your LIFE when you already have the answer?  Your belief isn’t there, you don’t have the motivation to be a better version of yourself, you are playing the victim card?

So back it up sister? Now you need to find What motivates YOU!  And this opens a whole world of possibilities.  Most people are motivated by financial gain, some by social acceptance, others are motivated by achievement awards, in other words put another medal around their neck and they are good to run for miles and jump high buildings in a single bound. But I am not thinking about others here I am thinking about what motivates ME and you should be doing the same thing.   

I am not sure this is something you can figure out in a moment or maybe you can if you’ve thought about it before.  But I would think many haven’t really FOCUSED on what motivates them.   We grow up doing the do like our parents before us not realizing we really need our own motivation rather than just doing what they did and what their parents did before them because more than likely those parents before them knew what their motivation was but somewhere through the years the reasons’ why we do what we do got muddled and we just kept doing what we were doing without a true reason for doing it.   (Whatever you do don’t read that last sentence again or you’ll be concerned I don’t know what I’m doing.) 

Back to the Motivation!  You need to figure this out or you will never be truly satisfied in your life because you will never achieve whatever it is that you are trying to obtain because you haven’t defined it.  That was a huge mouthful so let me tell you a story that may or may not help.  It helped me.

Many of you know my Dad was my hero.  He worked hard his entire life for his family!  I truly believe he did it for me and yet I don’t think he realized why he worked so hard his whole life until it got to the end of his life.   I believed he thought it was a good thing to work hard every day.  I believed he felt he was doing the right thing to work hard every day.   In fact, I don’t think he even thought about it much he just did it, EVERYDAY!  

About a year and a half before he passed away, I was sitting with him while he had his breakfast of Chocolate milk and Chocolate Cheerios and I was talking as I do, maybe you’ve noticed.  Anyway, I asked him “Dad, If you could do anything or accomplish anything what would it be?”  He took a while, and I could tell he was thinking.  I thought he might say something like he would like to catch the biggest flounder ever caught. He really loved catching flounder.   Or I thought he may say he’d like to fight a big fire, he truly loved being a firefighter.  Or I even considered he may say he’d like to ride the quad down in Rocky Point with his grandkids.  Instead he surprised me and went really deep.  His response was this.  “I’d like to work hard and buy a place where my kids could grow up and raise their families to all love Jesus”. 

Drop the mic!  I couldn’t believe my ears.  I said though crying tears “Dad, you did it! You have accomplished all that!”  Then he looked sideways at me with his little grin, knowing he had just opened an amazing world to me.  His entire life had been on laser focus.  He knew what he was working for, and he knew what it would take to accomplish that goal! He had defined his motivation, his belief and had set his focus on what had to be done and then he consistently did the do! What a HERO! What an example for me!

I hope you can find your motivation so you can set your focus on what needs to be done to accomplish your life dreams.  Take some time and write down exactly what that dream is, and exactly what it will take to make it happen.  And then set yourself on a path to follow that will focus on finding your dreams fulfilled. 

Hopefully you find your Monday Motivation today! 

Changes in Life

     Wow, it's been almost a year since I visited here.   Not to say there aren't other things I've written in other places, but here sharing with the few and faithful is where I feel most at home. 

     Speaking of home, I lost part of my Home last year.  My father went to his new heavenly home in December 2017.  While losing a loved one is such a hard thing to live with, I think the harder part was watching him deteriorate over the past years.  He indeed was the first man I ever loved and will love forever.  This is what I wrote the morning after he left.  

My daddy passed away last night 

He now walks on streets of gold,

The angel choir was there to greet him,

with those gone on before.

His joy today can’t be contained,

His pain it's gone forever,

While basking in the love of God

The One who died to save him.

My heart may ache and long for him,

I'd never bring him back,

His journey here has been completed

and mine is still in task.

I pray that he will guide my steps 

From there up high above me,

Just as he did while here on earth

While standing right beside me.

A greater man I'll never know

His strength and love for me was strong

His whole life spent for me to feel

Cared for, loved and nurtured.

Until that day when I see him again

I'll do my best to follow 

The blueprints he left for me 

A good and faithful servant.

~Brenda Johnson

     As you can see I was then and am still now feeling the heart break and sorrow for him leaving.  I know he is so much better off. My Christian faith and the belief of a heavenly home that my dad helped culture in my soul gives me great comfort.

     Another big decision in my life also happened last September.  I am planning to retire.  July of 2018 is the target time frame.  It's a big decision. I've been working on getting all the ducks in a row to leave my steady bi-monthly paycheck behind.  Don't worry I'm not going blindly.  I have other plans in the works with every confidence that I am making a step in the right direction.  

    My family and my health is a top priority for me now.  If anything watching my Fathers deterioration has helped open my eyes that's it more important than ever to be aware of our health.  Watching my older relatives suffer with health issues makes me want to find a better solution.  Is it possible to live healthier longer or is it just that your stuck with the genes you get?  I don't know.  But what I do know is in nature, better conditions usually produce better quality.  Animals that have healthy environments usually produce better quality product. You wouldn't put water in your car's gas tank so why would you put sub-standard nutrition in your body? Something to think about!

    So bring on 2018, I am ready for challenges to reach the goals I've set.  Not unrealistic goal, but specific goals in Health, Wealth and Relationships. 

It's a good day to get Started

Yes... Yes, it is a good day to get started!  Don't you agree?  Why wouldn't you? Who wants to sit around and get stale? What's the point of not working towards the goals you've set?  Wait, you haven't set any goals?  You don't want to change?  You already reached your goals?  You are perfectly content?  Seriously? So obviously, I am here to try to change your mind.  Even when things are great I don't think you should ever stop growing, moving, striving to reach your goals, or at least your spouse’s goals if you haven't bothered to set any for yourself. Goals, what or why should we have them?  Let's take a look.

 goalɡōl/nounplural noun: goals1.    1.
(in football, soccer, rugby, hockey, and some other games) a pair of posts linked by a crossbar and often with a net attached behind it, forming a space into or over which the ball has to be sent in order to score.o     o     2.    2.
the object of a person's ambition or effort; an aim or desired result."going to law school has become the most important goal in his life"

synonyms:

objective, aim, end, target, design, intention, intent, plan, purpose;

 

The word is an accomplishment.  The very definition of a goal is point worthy, and an object of desire, ambition, EFFORT.  Hello?  So why wouldn't you have a few?

 OK so truthfully, it took me a while to realize I really needed to set my own goals.  To "Believe" in my own goals. To attempt to "Achieve" my own goals.  I spent a lot of time coasting, just going with the flow no pressure, no motivation no drive no direction.   Not sure why I thought it would be OK to be that way.  No doubt many looked at me and thought, "what a waste".  It's true when I look back at myself I think that, but I don't live in the past I am currently goal driven to the.....now and the future.   

Another reason we should have goals.  The scripture clearly says we should,
take a look. Philippians3:14I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.1 Timothy 1:5The goal of this command is love, which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.Philippians3:12Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  
SO… when you start looking for me, start in the area’s where I’ll be Believing & Achieving. Because that’s my GOAL.  

Why I post on Social Media

Many people may wonder why I post so much on social media.  And even if you don’t wonder I’m going to tell you why.  Some are aware that I don’t have the best memory.  It’s my problem and I’m not sure why I have it but I know I have it, I recognize the issue and I’ve done ok living with it.  For a long time, I’ve relied on my siblings, family and friends to “help” me remember things that I think I should remember, but for some reason the memory bank just doesn’t produce.   My memory problem is a very real problem to me. 

It bothers me that I don’t remember “stuff”.  However, I realistically took a look at my family history and pretty much can see the writing on the wall and that is one reason why I post a lot on Facebook and other social media sites.  The old saying "A Picture is worth a thousand words" is so true for me in fact I used to be a picture taker, I have always had a camera and I have loads of picture albums from days before cell phones.  So now with cell phone pictures making it so easy and convenient to just upload a post. And doesn't everyone love it when Facebook tells me I have memories to look back on. And when I look it brings a smile to my face and warms my heart because, Yes.. I love good memories.

Now the second reason I post a lot is because I want others to post a lot.  I truly love reading the posts and seeing the stories that make up our lives, especially those special things that my family do or say.  One of the saddest moments of any day is when I open my social media and see that none of my family or close friends have posted anything.

I know for a fact to have friends you must be friendly.  And in the end only the friendships you have cultivated to create a love and trust relationship will sustain the test of time.  One of the saddest things in the world is when I go to visit Dad at his home, and hear the stories from the caregivers that no one comes to visit some of the other people who live there. Now there is of course another obvious reason why no one comes and that is because the Alzheimer’s patients don’t remember who the people are that come even if they do come.   But still it’s a proven fact that we all need affection, love, interaction with other humans. 

So back to my original question.  Why do I post?  Because I want to save my memories.  And to me right now social media is the easiest most convenient way for me to file those memories for quick access.  Just remember I’m counting on you to make a few post yourself.  I want to hear about your grandkids, and who had the most delicious dinner ever or if you are watching the most gorgeous sunset you’ve ever seen in your life.  Or maybe it’s just something simple that you talked to your dad, or you heard a good joke.  Share it, let me be a part of your life too.  We are friends for some reason or another and that means I want to hear from you.  

He Must Love You Very Much

HE MUST LOVE YOU VERY MUCH

Unfortunately, Thursday was not a good day.  At least for the many people I had the privileged to talk to on the phone while answering their 911 call.  I say privilege because it truly is.

I recently read a quote "Many people go through their life wondering if they made a difference in others lives."  I don't have to wonder, I know I do every day.  Especially while I'm working.

One of the first calls I answered this particular Thursday went something like this.

Me: "Emergency dispatcher, what is the address of the emergency?"

At this point most people who are having true emergencies either aren't listening or just too upset to hear the question,  they immediately break into their story of what's wrong and why they need my help.

"My husband won't respond to me, this is the first time since I've known him that he didn't wake up immediately when I walk into the room.  He's a very light sleeper, but he's not waking up, he's breathing but won't wake up.  Please hurry and send some help"

Immediately my heart is starting to break,  It's fairly early about 6:30am and in my experience this is not a good beginning to the story.

I ask her again what is the address and immediately start the help when she confirms it.  Unconscious person, lights and sirens.  And I assure her help is on the way. Then I continue the questioning.

"Are you sure he's breathing? When was the last time you saw him awake?"

"Last night we went to bed around 10pm."  Her voice is frantic and she continues spilling information and I type it in the call as quickly as possible.  "Our 50th wedding anniversary will be on the 23rd, He always wakes up when I walk in the room.  But my son has been calling him and I've been checking on him this morning.  He has Parkinson, and dementia, his hand trembles terribly, we found his hose loose on his c-pap machine but we plugged it back and he is breathing, he must have accidentally pulled it loose in his sleep."

My heart is sinking lower and I am holding back the tears, I need to be steady, a rock in this time of crisis I can't let her hear the sadness in my voice she needs to believe for a while longer that the love of her life is still with her. I finish my questioning and then we just talk, while we wait for the paramedics.

I talk to her about how much he must love her to light up so every time she walks in the room.  She takes joy in hearing this at least it seems she does. The frantic in her voice lessen a little yet the concern is still very present.  I tell her to talk to him and let him know help is coming, I tell her he can probably hear her and will be comforted by her voice. Her voice is soft and loving when she talks to him.  I can tell it's a relationship that has been nurtured for a long time.

I continue to calm and reassure her help is coming. I ask her to be sure her son unlocks the door and get her husbands medications out so the paramedics can see what he takes.  It's routine now, there isn't much else we can do until the paramedics arrive.  The c-pap machine is breathing for him or at least giving the appearance that he is breathing.  She is holding his hand. It's time to keep it calm until help arrives and can take over.

The minutes seem like hours as I assure her help is coming.  She talks about their wedding and what a happy day it was.  She tells me her son lives with them now since her husband has been sick.   I am glad at this moment I hope and pray he is able to provide the comfort she will need in the coming days, weeks, months.  I don't tell her it will be OK, I'm pretty sure it's not going to be OK.  But I keep reminding her how much He Loves Her.  I hope she will remember that for a very long time.

Rescue in the Sky!

**This story is based on an actual event.  Neil is my father and he told me of this Rescue that he performed when he worked at Kitt Peak.  I am not sure of the exact date of this rescue but I think it was in the late 60's.  I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoying hearing him tell it over dinner one evening in 2013.** 

RESCUE IN THE SKY

Neil was in his early thirties when he moved with his wife and three kids from his hometown in Beaumont, Texas to Tucson, Arizona. When Neil lived in Texas he was a firefighter.  He loved his job and all the excitement that came with being a fireman. In Tucson the fire department wasn’t hiring so after trying a few odd jobs Neil went to work for Kitt Peak National Observatory.   You can find their website here @  http://www.noao.edu/kpno/

Kitt Peak National Observatory is a facility built on the tallest peak in southern Arizona.  Kitt Peak has huge telescopes pointed toward the dark night skies in the Arizona Desert. Scientist from all over the world travel to Kitt Peak to observe and study the stars to learn and discover new and exciting things about this amazing world we live in. Kitt Peak was founded in 1958 and in the late sixties when Neil was working there it was still in the process of building new telescopes and buildings in the complex. 

Neil was hired to be a supervisor in charge of the custodian department.  He took pride in his job. Always doing his best to inspire and help those that worked under him.  At that time there was a single fire truck on the mountain and everyone who worked on the mountain was told that if there was ever an emergency they should turn the siren on the fire truck to alert the rest of the community that there was an emergency. 

One normal day everyone was busy working on their projects. The cooks were cooking, the scientist were sleeping waiting for the evening hours when they could study the stars in the dark of night, the custodians were cleaning, the construction workers building, the painters were painting. There was always a lot of work to keep the telescopes clean and spotless.

Jimmy was a painter. He had been hired by the contractor to repaint the outside walls of the big solar telescope. The solar telescope is a huge telescope that the scientists use to study the sun. 

Jimmy got to work and hooked on his safety belt, climbed up the scaffolding, three stories in all and climbed into the safety basket and pulled himself up 65 feet in the air to start painting. He thought he tied the basket tightly but for some reason his counter weight came undone. The next thing Jimmy knew he was falling down and falling down fast. His safety belt caught him and jerked him out of the safety basket and left him dangling in the air about 60 feet from the ground while his safety basket kept falling till it finally stopped about 20 feet below him.

Another worker happened to see Jimmy when he fell and ran to the building where Neil was working to tell him of the fall. Neil jumped on the fire truck, turned on the siren and quickly drove to the big telescope. He left the siren going and ran to see Jimmy dangling in the air from his safety belt. 

Neils’ firefighting training kicked in and he immediately sprang into action. Neil quickly instructed the others to help pull the scaffolding over and under the safety basket. Neil then climbed the scaffolding and grabbed the end of a rope that was hanging from the safety basket. Neil then climbed the dangling rope hand over hand about 30 feet up and got in the safety basket. Then he pulled himself and the basket to where Jimmy was dangling in the air. Neil asked Jimmy if he was ok and after checking that Jimmy was alright Neil pulled Jimmy into the basket and cut Jimmy loose from his safety belt that had left him dangling from the tall telescope. The other workers had brought a big ladder and set it up on the scaffolding. Neil let the basket down to the ladder and he and Jimmy climbed down the ladder and then down the scaffolding to safety. 

Neil went back to work, not realizing the impact his heroic efforts had on the rest of the community. Word spread quickly on the mountain and the story of the “Rescue in the Sky” reached the Superintendent.

The next day the Superintendent called Neil into his office. He told Neil that because of his heroic efforts they decided to double his salary and put him in charge of not only the custodian department but also the cooks and the fire department.

Once again Neil was doing the job that he loved!

Build a House and Serve God.

So many emotions, so much to let out, so much to keep in.  Should I write, shouldn't I write. Will I be perceived as an emotional wreck if my eyes should decide to leak because the words I write break my heart.  My nose hurts because I scrunch it up trying to keep the tears in my eyes. Why does getting old have to be such a rough experience.  I don't believe it was intended to be this way.  For some reason when I was growing up no one mentioned of the agony of waiting for the days to pass.  The battle of not knowing day or night. The pain and frustration of not knowing where you are or what you are supposed to be doing and if there's even anyone else who knows.  And do you believe them when they tell you it will all be okay.  They say they are taking care of things, but that's not the way it was supposed to be. As the parent he believes he should be taking care of it all.  If only he could understand, he already did.  The beginning.

Dad bought property and built a home.  I call it a home because that's what it was, not a house but a home.   The three kids we each had our own room and got to pick out what color carpet we wanted.  Mine was orange shag.  I loved it.   Dad worked hard building the home.  I remember many evenings spent on the property while dad and mom worked.  The best help we could be was to stay out of trouble and his way which we did pretty well.  

We grew up on this beautiful property and the surrounding area riding horses and mini bikes.  Wading in the creek when there was water and walking in the sand beds when there wasn't.  Hiking the mountains, and swimming in the pools.  We loved it!  Life was grand!  We each grew up and married and built homes on the property that my dad had worked so hard to provide for us.  The agreement was the take care of my mom and dad when they grew older.  My mom left us far too early.  A stroke that she only partially recovered from and then other diseases that racked her body and wouldn't allow her to continue being who she needed, wanted, desired to be.  My father and sister and others including myself were her faithful caregivers till her fragile body gave out. 

Dad continued living his life but never quite the same.  He remarried for a while but it didn't work out as age and a diagnoses and symptoms of Parkinson's Disease began to deteriorate his body and mind.  Which bring us to where we are today.

 

Why is this part so hard?  How to know which choice to make. Even though he said it, and I thought I understood what he said, even put it in writing, and yet I am still finding it difficult. What if he really didn't mean it.  What if he changed his mind and doesn't feel that way anymore?   And yet I know it's what I would want should it be me in his situation and my children living with the responsibility of making decisions for me.  

Before things got too bad, when there were still moments of clarity and Dad was still living in the home he built for us all.  We were sitting at the dining room table and I asked Dad, "If you could have or do or accomplish anything in the world and money wasn't an issue, what would it be?" He stopped for a moment and thought about his answer then said, "Well, I guess I'd like to work hard and buy a piece of property so each of my kids could build a house and raise their family to love and serve God."  I could hardly contain my excitement and quickly replied "Dad, dad, Congratulation! You've done it! You have accomplished the thing you wanted most in life.  You can relax and rest in the knowledge that you have DONE IT!  We are all grown up and now our families are building families and homes of their own. Continuing the tradition of family, loving and working, and living and caring, that you taught us."  And yet in his despair, his moment of clarity gone for now he just shook his head and placed it in his hands and said. "But this isn't my house." 

And because of all that I believe we have made the right decision.  We have placed him somewhere safe.  Where caring people can help him and call us if there is a need.  He is well taken care of in a clean, safe, cozy, home like environment.  And yet we still feel we should do more.  But how can you love any more than you already love. How can you be more than your very soul is being?  

You can't.  You can only just keep giving it what you've got to give.  Praying and believing, standing on the promises of God’s word with faith and love.  And asking for Gods help to be strong and faithful while caring for one of His sons who is in the process of making his journey home. 

To Do List: Dad Haircut

To Do List:  Dad Haircut

It was a day like many others.  I had my list of TO DO’s and was pretty much on track to get it all done.   Part of me wanted to skip the next task.  I could think of many reasons why I should skip this particular task.  It could wait.  It always takes longer than expected.  I always cry after I visit.  He probably won’t remember I’ve been there.  And the list goes on and on, but I went.

I was greeted by the caregiver, Anna when I arrive and was told he was in his room napping.  I walked in to find him sitting on the edge of his chair, a puzzled look on his face.  The DVD on the TV in continuous repeat the same single line of the song, over and over and over.  “Hey Dad” my usual greeting, and his reply “Hey Darling.”  The look softened a little but not completely gone.  “What’cha doing?”  He rubs his forehead “Aww, trying to get up, I’ve just been sitting here doing nothing missing out on all the overtime available.  I need to take that stuff down to green valley.”  Now I’m the puzzled one, wondering which job or what stuff he’s thinking of.  I wish I could understand this disease called dementia.  Where in the randomness of the day thoughts of in-completion and frustration raid the tired brain and body of the elderly making them think they haven’t finished their work here.  But on to the task at hand, “I’m here to give you a haircut”  “Oh good” he says satisfactorily “they don’t do a good job here” Then he starts to ramble about some guy not doing things right.

Now I just have to get him up and down the long hallway out on the patio to my makeshift hair salon.   It’s not that far but his steps are short and shuffled, and first I have to get him to stand up.  The Parkinson’s and lack of exercise have left his muscle so weak he can hardly push himself up from the chair to stand.  It is a huge frustration to me and yet I still don’t exercise regularly.  Finally standing and hands firmly on the walker he heads toward the closet.  “No dad, we need to go this way”  “which way?” he questions apparently unable to see me or the door to the room.  I gently try to direct his walker and am met with resistance, his grip is still strong “What’s pulling on this thing?” “Sorry Dad I was just trying to help.”  I’ve already been here 15 minutes and we haven’t even gotten out of the bedroom  much less started the haircut part yet. 

Finally headed down the hallway dad suddenly asks “Where’s your mother?”  Immediately I try to clarify, is he talking about Mom? Or does he think I am someone else? So I ask “who are you asking about, my mom?” “Yes.” He replies to me like who else in the world would I be asking about.  Still not convinced he’s talking about Mom.  I remind him that I am Brenda, still he persist “Where’s your mother?”  Without thinking I remind him, “Dad remember mom passed away.”  Then it hits me, and I think to myself  as a matter of fact 13 years ago today mom passed away. Now the wave of sadness comes, here’s the tears that always happens starting far too early in the visit.  He shakes his head in disbelief “What? Your mother passed away? When?” and then the remembrance starts to come back and he is lost in his despair again.   I decide then and there never to remind him again.  I will just tell him that she’s shopping, or she’ll be over in a bit, or perhaps I will say “She’s waiting for you at the pearly gates of Heaven.  Wishing you would join her. It’s the only time she’s ever had to wait on you.”  We continue down the hallway.

Anna meets us in the kitchen on our way out to the patio she has his afternoon dose of pills ready.  I am relieved, it will help him be less anxious, more relaxed and lessen his back pain.   Unfortunately there is no cure for the despair he feels.  Antidepressants don’t help in Parkinson’s patients.  We continue at a shuffle out the door to the patio.  The weather is beautiful.  Finally the haircut starts.

It has been about six weeks since his last haircut, given by someone who comes to the care home and charges $20, he looks pretty shaggy.  I cut it short, a number one, his haircut of preference, trim his eyebrows and all the other places that grown unwanted hair.  All the while I’m thinking this could be the last time I get this opportunity and wondering why would I want to skip this task on my To Do list.  We finish up the haircut now to get him back inside.  He is feeling more relaxed now, thankfully the meds are working.  Down the long hallway back to his room.

He is tired he wants to rest.  Shuffle to the chair that he can’t see and finally backed up and seated sideways so another stand and straighten up.  I turn on the Gaither DVD, music that is soothing and familiar.  We sing along a bit words that come naturally to songs we’ve sung for so long.  He drifts off to sleep.  Hopefully it will be restful for him.  Maybe Mom will visit him in his dreams and reassure him that everything’s going to be alright.  I know that’s what she always told me. 

I leave trying to hold back the tears that always come after a visit.  And back on my To Do list for three weeks down the road.  Dad Haircut.  Or perhaps he will need a trim sooner.  I love you Dad.

Creating a Dispatcher

Found this online... I take no credit for writing it.. only for living it, although I am far from perfect.  I hope you all enjoy..

Creating a Dispatcher – The Prototype

An angel walked in and found the Lord walking in a small circle and muttering. “What are you working on now, Lord?” the angel asked. “Well, I finished creating a peace officer, now I’m working on a dispatcher,” God said. Because the angel could see nothing in the room, he asked God to tell him about it. God answered, “It’s somewhat like the police officer model, but it has five hands: one for answering the phone, two for typing, one for answering the radio and one for grabbing a cup of coffee. The arms had to be placed fairly carefully because all the dispatcher’s tasks have to be done simultaneously.” “The digestive system is a little complicated because it runs on coffee and food that can be delivered, but it seldom needs to get up for the restroom. I made the skin out of tempered duralite, covered with Teflon. A dispatcher’s hide has to be tough enough to withstand darts from cranky officers, jabs from citizens and the lack of attention by the administration, but not show any signs of wear and tear.” “A dispatcher only needs one pair of eyes. That left extra room for the ears. There are five sets, one for the main radio, two for the other radios it has to monitor, and one to hear everything else going on around it. They fit all right on the head since it had to be extra large for the brain, anyway.” “The brain has to be enormous so it can remember a full set of 10-codes, the phonetic alphabet, at least 200 voices, the entire contents of three different SOP manuals, two teletype manuals and an NCIC code book. Of course, I left enough space for it to learn the individual quirks of each sergeant, lieutenant, shift commander, fire chief and other supervisors and the ability to keep them all straight.” “There has to be room for it to learn which situations a need an officer and which don’t and for the ability to determine in less than two minutes what to do with any given event. There is a built-in condenser so it can take an hour-long explanation, put it into 30 seconds worth of radio transmission and still get the whole story across.” “Those switches on the front are for the emotions. It has to be able to talk to a mother whose child has just died but not feel pain, a rape victim with empathy, a suicidal person with calmness and reassurance and abusive drunks without getting angry. When one of the officers yells for help, it can’t panic, and when someone doesn’t make it, the dispatcher’s heart mustn't break.” “That little soft spot just to the left of the emotions switch is for the abandoned animals, frightened children and little old ladies who are lonely and just want to talk to someone for a few minutes. The dispatcher has to care very much for the officers and firefighters it serves, without getting involved with any of them, so I added another switch for that. Plus, of course, the dispatcher can’t have of its own issues to worry about while it is on duty, so that last switch turns those off. “The patience switch is turned up to high all the time on the CTO model, and I've added an extra fuse to those to handle the overload.” “A dispatcher has to be able to function efficiently under less-than-good physical conditions and be flexible enough to withstand whatever whim the administration comes up with, while still retaining its general shape and form. That warm, fuzzy shoulder is there for officers to use when they gripe, other dispatchers when they hurt and those who are shell-shocked by a horrible call and just need someone to be there.” “The voice gave me a little trouble. It has to be clear and easy to understand, calm and even when everyone else is screaming, but still able to convey empathy and caring, while remaining totally professional.” “It runs a full 12 hours on very little sleep, requires almost no days off and gets paid less than an executive secretary,” God concluded. “The dispatcher sounds wonderful!” the angel said. “Where is this amazing creation?” “Well, you see,” answered God with a sigh and a pause. “Dispatchers are invisible unless they make a mistake. So it’s practically impossible to tell when they are run-down, worn out or in need of repair. Now that I've created them, I can’t see the original model to make enough of them to go around.”


 Note: This was copied from APCO Magazine, January 2001 and originally submitted by Jeremy Miller via e-mail. The author’s name was unavailable. This may have an alternate title of “And God Created Dispatcher.”

I took a call...

I took a call...

"Emergency Dispatcher, what's the address,  the phone number?  tell me now exactly what happened?"  

"The bullet came through the window" he said, "Someone driving by must have shot in the air" not realizing the boys were inside hanging out. His cousin was shot in the head bleeding out.   

He was young and so was his cousin.  His story sounded reasonable, 

And yet somehow it wasn't. 

He didn't understand the lie would cost, valuable time, while officers sought. 

Not realizing it was just a game of roulette, with one loaded gun and a shot to the head.

  

His cousin’s name I will never forget, as he called to him, trying to bring him back. 

"You gotta help my cousin" he told me on the line, while I processed the call,  and got the help rolling. 

I tried to tell him what to do, my hands were shaking my voice was too, "Put pressure on the bleeding site, it doesn't matter if it's soaking through,"

"You gotta help my cousin" he cried as he held his cousin in his arms so tight. 

“Listen to me, are you holding pressure? Right on the wound, now press down firmly” I pleaded with him wishing I could, reach through the phone to help him too.  

The flashes in my mind of moments long ago.  Me playing with cousins, my loved ones such fun.

"You gotta help my cousin" he cried, his cousins eyes were open wide.  

"Just keep holding pressure, and make sure he's breathing." I quoted not wanting to believe the reality.  

"You gotta help my cousin" he said, as his cousins blood flowed swiftly from his head.

His cousins’ breathing was shallow now and slowing down, not making a sound. 

"You gotta help my cousin" he cried.  His voice was sad and lonely and worried.  

While officers sought to secure the scene, looking in vain for the unknown shooter.  

I tried to tell him what to do, my hands were shaking my voice was too, "Keep pressure on the bleeding site, it doesn't matter if it's soaking through." while praying silently in my heart, thinking there's not much else that we can do "just hold your cousin close to you, his time on earth is almost through"    

"You've gotta help my cousin" he cried.  My heart was breaking deep inside.  

Focus Brenda, just read the cards, be firm yet gentle, and don't break down, Remember, you’re his only hope.  He needs to be brave for his cousin in his arms. 

Just a little while longer while the ambulance rolls, I did all I could on the end of the phone.  To be the caring voice that he hears, to believe that the help is drawing near. To help him be brave, to help him be strong, to hold on to his cousin for the very last time.  

But it was simply not enough; his cousin was finished, his time was up. 

While officers sought for who may have shot. To secure the scene where the boy was shot.  Not realizing it was just a game that boys play. Russian roulette but this time was no game. For the gun was loaded with a fatal shot.  And one cousin was dead and one cousin was not. 

His cousin’s name I will never forget as he called to him trying to bring him back.

Regaining My Zen

 

  Sitting on my back porch, with a cup of coffee and my iPad. It's a beautiful spring day the birds are singing the flowers are blooming the lizards have come out to play.  I did Pilates earlier so I have at least completed my exercise fulfillment for today, and I feel pretty good about that. (No doubt you will hear more about the Pilates later.) The truck is on it's way for an oil change thanks to my wonderful husband, so number two on the list is in progress.  Oh yes! Today is a day that The Lord has made and it is going to be a good one.  The breeze is softly blowing creating a sense of fantasy garden delight. I am truly feeling I am in my place of ZEN,  And then the phone rings.

     Now normally when the phone rings it's someone I love on the other end.  My daughter who is amazingly smart and has never ending stories of what Austin or Katy did that I am always happy to hear about.  Or my son Marshall who is learning so much right now about what it means to be head of a home and growing family.  Or my delightful husband who surprises me daily with his amazing love and devotion. Or any one of my hundreds of friends (ok well maybe not that many) but still my treasurers that I enjoy chatting with. But not today, oh no not this phone call.

    "Hello" I say, unsure of who it maybe. I don't recognize the number and usually wouldn't answer but recently I have had some business dealings and wouldn't want to miss an important call.  The caller says "hello this is Mike (name has not been changed to protect the innocent because he is not innocent) calling from Sprint."  Aww, a little sigh of relief maybe they are calling to offer me a discount on my terrible cell service that I continually pay for with the hope that the promises they keep making that it will be better soon will actually be fulfilled.  Added to the fact I have been in chat with them more times than I want in the last week because of the terrible service and the fact I got my new Framily bill.  Which I might add was a tad bit higher than expected and higher than last month on on my old plan.   Wait did I just say I changed my phone plan for a higher bill surely not. And yet this is what happened.  I still had hope Sprint had realized the error of their ways and were going to provide me with a huge credit. Yeah dream on Brenda.  Needless to  say my 20 minute chat with Mike totally ruined my hour of ZEN.  But wait another minute, I say why?

     I, Brenda am in control of my life. I control my feelings and my attitude.  I can decide to take the high road continue in my basking of the beautiful day.   And that's exactly what I'm going to do.  Back to my back porch with the breeze blowing, and the birds singing, and the fountain flowing, and the flowers blooming, and the lizards laying on the flat rocks enjoying the sunshine.   Back to my ZEN.   

Relaxation without Guilt

Relaxation without Guilt

What happen to the days when I could just sit around, watch football, read a book, nap, or whatever and not feel Guilty? 

Seems like anymore unless I accomplish at least one thing on my never ending list of things I have to do I have a terrible case of guilty as charged.  Who put this weight of adulthood on me? Why can't I just sit back and relax and not worry about if the plants get watered, or the cooler gets fixed, or the garage door opener will get programmed, or the pool gets swept, or the bandana skirt project gets completed, or the back porch table project gets started, or the rose bushes get trimmed, or the downstairs closet gets cleaned out or for that matter every closet in this house, or the cabinets get wiped down, or the fans get dusted, or the shop gets straightened up, or the dryer vent gets cleaned, or the freezer gets defrosted, or ... or... or... or.  

Somehow I got so many things on my plate I can't find any room for the spoon to start shoveling it somewhere else.  I just want to not have so many things on my TO DO list

Well maybe that's what I think I want, not so many things on my TO DO list... Either way I did mark a couple of things off my list this last week.  And now...I am going to add a few things but first I am going to just chill,  awwww.   

Ok enough of that...back to work, maybe.

Keep on keeping on...

This is where I want to be....  This is where I'm not.

Amazing how quickly all our best plans get lost in the shuffle of life and living.  I've been looking forward to this week for months because I had requested some random vacation time off and it was granted.  I figured we'd load up the horses and the dog and head to some lovely spot to camp and ride without the worries of the world or work or....  wait a minute.... back up!  Change of plans... why you ask?    LIFE

Now don't misunderstand, I wouldn't have it any other way.   I am not interested in the alternative.   But tell me why is it I try so hard to plan and arrange and maneuver, only to come to realize it's already been planned and arranged and maneuvered?  So instead I plan and arrange and maneuver hoping it's along the same lines as the Infinite plan that has already been set for me, so when it all comes together perfectly I am  pretty pleased with myself and my perfectly laid plans.  

But the truth of it all is I'm just living in the moment by the grace of God.  Believing that the steps of the righteous are ordered by the Lord and that I am the "righteous"  He is talking about. 

 Meanwhile life just keeps on keeping on and isn't that what we all want anyway? 

My gift...

So for my next selection.....  Dead space, unknown title, what's the next chord, how does the next intro begin,  why is my brain drawing a blank....

Yes this happens to me all the time.  Especially in that moment when I think I will shine, when I am overconfident and cocky, proud and arrogant.  So ready to strut my stuff, show them what I've got, make them jealous of who I am....

And yet, by myself in the still quiet of the morning or more likely the chilling darkness of the night my brain won't turn off.   I can think of thousand of tag lines, hundreds of song titles that flow and intertwine to make beautiful melodies with meaningful lyrics that will encourage and uplift and refill the very soul that is waning and lean from malnourishment.  Stuff revivals are made of.  Blessing from heaven above so marvelous it could only be inspiration from the very One who bestows all gifts.  Obviously intended to bless and nourish and uplift all who hear and can receive, and then I realize it's a gift just for me...

Wow, just like that...

 A couple of clicks and I too am a professional Blogger.  How could it be so easy?  Seriously anyone can do it and millions of followers will come, or not? But it really doesn't matter now does it?  In my world, which is where I find myself quite often, everyone will follow, and agree with whatever I say or blog as the case maybe. 
Meanwhile back to reality, it will really only be me and my blog.  Entertaining myself, challenging myself, questioning myself, reminding myself, consoling myself, being myself.  Just me and my blog world and of course the millions that will follow. Till next time...