Webster

The things we do for our children with fur.

My sweet little Bichon, Chelsea, loved her stuffed toys.  She had them for years. She never chewed them, and she knew all of them by name.  I could tell her to go get her snake, and she would disappear into the den where her toy basket lived. She would be gone for just a minute or two, and when she returned, surely as light will come in the morning, she would be dragging her four foot stuffed snake behind her, tail a waggin’.  She had a stuffed Fred Flinstone, which she knew as Fred.  I’d ask for Fred, and Fred I would get.

Her favorite, amongst all of her treasures, was a stuffed yellow duck named Webster. She might have drug out a dozen different toys, and they all may have been in different areas of our living room, but always, always Webster was in the mix.

I said goodbye to Chelsea at the age of 14 ½ years.  She had survived Cushing’s Disease and Addison’s Disease, but liver cancer was stronger than she could fight.  I had her cremated, and I placed her ashes in an urn I had made in pottery class, especially for her. It only seemed right that when I placed her urn on my bedside table, that Webster would be placed right there beside her.

About 8 weeks after Chelsea’s death, I brought a 10 week old Bichon home with me. Gracie Lou moved in with about 120% gusto, 100% mischief, and a heart open to all the wonder and love of the world.  I was unaware, at the time, that she had been born visually impaired. She was as “normal” as any other puppy of mine, and what little “clumsiness” I witnessed, I attributed to just being an awkward little puppy.  When her visual impairment was diagnosed at 10 months of age, she and I started the crusade of “normal” for Gracie. With  very few exceptions, her disability is hardly noticed. She thrives, she plays, she loves, and she sees more with her heart than most of us see with our eyes.

To this end, I can’t say I was surprised when my then one-year-old, “blind” puppy came down the hall, in a full prance, carrying Webster.  Yes, somehow Gracie, filled with her mischief, had reached up to the bedside table, snared Webster, and was happily bringing him to me.  My heart stopped, and I said, “No, No!  You can’t have him.”  The look on her face would have broken my heart had it not already been breaking with the image of  Webster coming down the hall, but not Chelsea.  I tucked Webster away in my walk-in closet, and I brought Gracie a different toy. Within a few minutes, she was happily playing, and Webster had been forgotten.

Several months later, I heard Gracie running down the hall. And again, she had Webster with her. This time she had gone into the walk-in closet and found him.  I knew then that it was time to buy another Webster, especially for Gracie.  I gathered her in my arms and out the door we went to Feeder’s Supply.  Gracie loves to ride in the shopping cart, so down the aisles we went in pursuit of a duck.  We couldn’t find it, and when I asked the cashier, I was told they had discontinued that particular brand.  Are you kidding me?  No Webster!  Not giving up easily, we went on down the road to Pet Smart. But, again, no Webster.  I told Gracie I would try Amazon. When we got home, I logged into  Amazon.com and hit the search bar for “dog toy duck named Webster.”  There he was!  Several to choose from priced between $8.00 and $15.00.  I chose one that indicated it was new, for a cost of $11.00. The total with shipping was under $15.00.  Add To Cart!

About 3 days later, I came home from work and found the box sitting by my front door. I brought it in and told Gracie she had a surprise.  I opened one end of the box, and she dove in up to about her shoulders. She came out of that box with Webster, tail wagging, and jumping in place for several minutes.  She was so excited, and I was so touched it brought tears to my eyes.  She had her very own Webster, and to this day,  he is greatly loved.

Now comes the ironic part. Probably about 3 weeks later, I was in Kroger doing my grocery shopping.  I cut down the pet aisle and there right in front of me, on the bottom shelf, almost mocking me, were SIX Websters. Who Knew?

It doesn’t matter where he came from, or how he made it to our home.  The joy this little stuffed duck has brought to  now two of my beloved companions is truly heaven sent.  Nothing is too hard to accomplish for the ones you love.

The Beautiful Gift of Healing ...

This month, on March 30, I will remember the death of my mother 7 years ago.  After her death, and before creating my blog, I kept a journal entitled "It's Happened."  These were my thoughts and prayers during my initial grieving period through May, 2007.  I don't know why I stopped this particular journal, but March always brings me back to reflection.  I think I'm ready to continue this journal now. I think I may actually have some words that might be comforting to others going through this grief journey that can be called sad, dreadful, fatiguing, and interestingly even joyful.  

This is a selection from this journal dated July, 2005, just a little over three months from her death on March 30, 2005.   When I read it now, I see so many lessons in my thoughts.

My Patchwork Heart …

July, 2005

Have you ever felt like your heart was divided into pieces with certain sections being reserved for special people?  I remember when my only niece was born, I felt as if there was an area of my heart that had just been waiting for her, and all the love contained in that area was reserved especially for her.  I like to think of my heart as a Patchwork Heart.  Everyone has had the experience of seeing a beautiful patchwork quilt, which has been made from fabric that loving hands have touched throughout a family.  They may be pieces of an old baby blanket, the first curtains in a newlywed’s home, an old dress from a great grandmother, a section of a christening gown, a woven piece of fabric left by our ancestors.  In other words a piece of fabric which is more than fabric, but rather a loving memory from days gone by, compounded by the loving hands which formed and made the quilt.  I like to envision my heart as being made by loving hands of our Father, heaven sent, full of beautiful pieces, crafted for the many people I love.  The stitches of grace make it strong, make it viable, and make it whole. 

In my Mother’s absence, her beautiful section has turned to sorrow and sadness.  Part of me wonders if this piece of my heart will ever be happy again.  I know that our God is kind and good, so I know He will assist in making my sadness ease into loving memories, but I wonder if He will make this section happy again?   Maybe I should not consider whether He will make it happy again, but more importantly I should ponder, how I will accept what He sends me in the form of strength, guidance, and His supreme love to assist me in making my life happy again.  Every ounce of my fiber knows that my Mother would be so very disappointed with me, and yes, even angry if I did not continue to live and enjoy my life.  It is just so lonely for me at times without her, but I know she would not want this loneliness to suppress the happiness I have always found in life itself.

It’s moments, hours, and sometimes even complete days of my grief that I need to look into my heart, my patchwork heart, and know that all the remaining happy pieces will work with me to make my Mother’s special section whole and happy again.  It’s okay to grieve, it defines my love … but it is equally as important to find peace and be happy with life again.

Reflection … My master Crafter, you have woven my being and stitched with love my patchwork heart.  Wrap your loving arms around me, and with your tender hands gently touch my Mother’s special piece of my heart.  Heal its pain, bring it peace, and open it for happiness again. I want to remember with happiness and love … not just with tears.  I know this day is coming, help guide me to this joyful end.

Lent

I love Lent!  Every year I am excited about entering into the portion of the liturgical year that encourages me to pray, reconnect in my faith, look towards the needs of others, and just feel closer to God.  I usually take a moment a few days before Lent to ponder what my Lenten activities will consist of.  I'm not one to just think it is about "giving up" things, but rather just importantly about "doing things."  I fervently believe in the scripture reading that tells us that we shouldn't boast about our Lenten penance, our fasting, or even share our Lenten activities with others.  So, to this end, I will not go into detail.  I will say that it involves setting more time daily for prayer, and doing some things that I know I should do, but don't take time out of the day to accomplish. 

I usually attend all the different services during Lent, of course, beginning with Ash Wednesday. This year, my schedule has changed drastically with a career move I made about 8 months ago.  I've just been out of sync with getting all my schedules aligned appropriately.  Ash Wednesday fell prey to this dilemma.  I couldn't attend a noon service, I was in a meeting.  I couldn't (no let's be honest) I chose not to go to the 5:30 p.m. service, because I would have had to cancel a 6:30 p.m. appointment.  So, I searched the web, and I found a church that was having service at 7:00 p.m., just down the street from my 6:30 p.m. appointment. Perfect!  Except I forgot that there would be a lot of folks choosing this time frame. I arrived about 7:05 p.m. and there was nowhere, I mean nowhere to park.  I drove in circles around the perimeter of the church and adjoining property. There was nowhere to park.  Even the sidewalks were already full.   I was tired, frustrated, and I decided I would just skip the service and pray in private.  I decided to place an order for a fish dinner at a local fish restaurant, and just go on home.  On my way to pick up the fish dinner, I passed another church, in a neighboring town, that must have been having 7:30 p.m. services. There were droves of people going in the front doors ... and parking spaces!  But, now I had already ordered dinner and it was awaiting my pick-up in just 5 minutes.  Again, I chose to just pick up dinner and go home.   I actually felt jealous of the people entering church.  This decision has haunted me.  Ash Wednesday.  One of the most solemn days in our church calendar, and I didn't make room on my calendar.

I have a St. Mother Theodore Guerin perpetual calendar on my desk at work. A few days after Ash Wednesday, her quote of the day stated that one shouldn't dwell over the sin they have committed. Rather acknowledge it, own it, talk to our God, but then move on with confidence and strength.   Otherwise, it is just too easy to commit the same mistake.  This has been hard for me, as I feel so negligent about my actions of Ash Wednesday.  But, I know God teaches me something about everything I do in my life, and He loves me unconditionally.  He has forgiven me, so I need to as well.

During this most holy of seasons, I'll offer my prayers earnestly and honestly with all the warts and weeds of my life.  I know God hears me, and this gives me the confidence to go forward in His strength.  These next few weeks lead to the joy of His ressurection.  I am so blessed to be a participant.

Birds Or Chicks?

My sister and I share a birthday month.  Actually our father also shared the same month.  Daddy’s birthday, February 2, mine February 9, and my sister, the Valentine baby, February 14.  Daddy used to say I was his birthday present a week late, and my sister was his little Valentine.

Mother and Daddy have since left us, and for many years my sister lived out-of-town, so for quite a long time, we were only able to celebrate via cards and phone calls.  My sister has now returned to the area, so for the past three years, we have celebrated together with dinner.  Since her special day is on Valentine’s Day, we never celebrate that night. The restaurants are filled to capacity, and overflowing, with all the lovers, or at least those trying to be lovers, fulfilling the obligation of February 14.  So to this end, we usually choose a date between our birthdays for our dinner outing.

This year, we chose Sunday, February 12.  We went to a restaurant I had never been to before, Bonefish Grill.  My sister and brother-in-law had been there several times and vouched for its quality. And, we even had a coupon for a free appetizer  sent through the Internet to my sister for her birthday. We ordered our appetizer, some wine, and picked out our entrees.  Normal evening thus far.

I guess you know you are aging when the conversation turns to dental issues and upcoming procedures. I had conveyed the story that I had a fracture in my back, bottom tooth, on the right.  “Rah thar.”  Oh, I have my mouth open, finger in it, pointing to the tooth.  You’re reading this and can’t see me.  Number 31 in dental lingo!  My sister said she had a fracture in the same tooth, but she was not ready to undergo the expense of a crown.  I told her that not only was I going to need the crown, but probably a root canal to boot.

Our appetizer arrived to the table, and I placed my napkin in my lap.  I had on slacks that were made from that slippery fabric.  I’m sure a Project Runway contestant could quickly name the fabric. Not me!  All I know was it was slick, and my  napkin immediately slid to the floor, under the booth.   The napkin was black, it was dark under the booth, and I couldn’t see it. I would have had to lay down completely flat, risk rolling off the bench under the table, to retrieve the napkin. My sister said, “Just ask for another.”  This turned out later to be good advice, but my brother-in-law said he could see it and was able to pick it up for me.  I informed everyone that I would just tuck it in my waist band to prevent the chance of the “napkin slide” again.

About that time, our dinner arrived. We had all ordered fish, and we had actually discussed the type of fish and the likelihood of encountering a bone. I know if I get a bone, I’m done.  I ordered Imperial King Wolf fish, my brother-in-law the trout, and my sister salmon.  My sister took one bite of her rice and pulled something out of her mouth. I thought to myself, “Good grief, she has already gotten a bone.” Then I noticed it was a little round hard thing that looked like a caper. She laid it to the side of her plate and continued to eat. In just a moment, she said, “Well, I have broken my tooth.”  On rice??!!??  Something tells me she may have waited just a bit too long on that crown. Who breaks their tooth on a piece of rice?

We finished our entrees, my sister left her piece of tooth tucked under a little leftover rice and sauce, and we ordered and ate a decadent flourless brownie with raspberry sauce, whipped cream, and ice cream. We shared our presents, paid our bills, and left the restaurant. We hugged in the parking lot, went to our respective cars, and drove home.

After arriving at home, I took my coat off.  My coat was a bright red, top of the hip jacket.  I had black slacks on. As I bent down to greet my little dog, my hand became entangled in fabric. “What the heck?” Then I realized what I had done. I had worn the napkin home!  It hadn’t slid anymore. It had even stayed put with me walking out of the restaurant, driving home, walking into the house, and picking up my dog. I literally had to yank it out of my waist band.  I guess I can only be happy the napkin police didn’t drop me in the parking lot.  The kicker is I now only have one black napkin.  I wish my sister would have wrapped up her tooth in another napkin.  I would at least have a pair, and she just might have gotten a surprise from the tooth fairy.

Appetizer – free

Wine -- $6.00

Dinner -- $35.00

Evening with two old birds (make that groovy chicks) – PRICELESS!!

The Fifth Decade

I am embarking on my last year of the 50’s.  Yes, the end of the fifth decade. There are several things that come to mind:

• I’m celebrating the 20^th year of my 39^th birthday.
• Or even better, the 30th year of my 29^th birthday.
• I now realize that when I “mourned” my 30^th birthday, I didn’t realize just how young I really was.
• When the big 40 came, I actually felt younger than when I had “celebrated” my 30^th.  Somehow 40 actually didn’t have the same impact as 30!
• Then, of the course, the HUGE 50 came.  I think I had parties of all sorts, and with all different groups of people, for the entire month of February. They extended from Indiana to Florida.  The Midwest to Southern States was put on alert that I was 50.
• Now I have one more year, before the celebration of 60 commences.

But, call it maturity, or just plain old age, this is what truly comes to mind:

• God has graced me with 59 glorious years.
• I have been able to marvel His creation through the eyes of an infant, a toddler, a child, a teenager, a young adult, an adult, and yes, now almost a senior.
• As an “almost” senior, I have the peace of understanding so many things, so much more, and the worries and the stresses have become less and less with growing just a bit older.
• I have enjoyed watching my niece blossom from a precious infant to a beautiful young woman.
• I have been blessed with lifelong friends.  Friends that have been a part of me since we were just barely teenagers. We’ve celebrated graduations together, marriages, children, in some cases divorces, and we’ve been with each other when we’ve buried our parents. There is no price that can be put on this. It is the most precious of gifts.

So, as I turn 59, I won’t be sulking. I won’t be lying about my age.  I will proudly step up and say, “I’m 59 years blessed!”  I receive yet another day to say to my God every morning, “What can I do today to make, those I come in contact with, feel just a bit better?”  I get another opportunity to try again to get it right.  Happy Birthday!

Fall In The Arms of God

“Fall in the arms of God”… a beautiful lyric in one of the songs our choir sings by the name of “Come Rest In The Arms of God.”

This line, this brief phrase, “Fall in the arms of God” speaks to me in a most powerful yet gentle way. Can you imagine, can you even imagine truly falling into the arms of God?  I know I may feel this way when I pray and I need His strength.  I know I spiritually feel safe in His arms, but I am truly thinking about the human connection, the literal I really know and completely understand.  “Fall in the arms of God.”

Blessed Mother Theodore Guerin, founder of the Sisters of Providence, is quoted, “What will Heaven be if our poor earth is at times so beautiful?”

This writing is dedicated to a dear friend. She has been fighting cancer for five years. During this time, she has approached her illness with bravery, humor, and a faithfulness unparalleled. She has taught all of us how to live with cancer, and how to accept what God sends our way.   She has now stopped all treatment and is in Hospice care.  She recently sent all of us, her choir friends, a note.  In it she says, “I don’t know what is going to happen, when, or how long it will take.  I feel good today, and I will just take it day by day.”   What strength!

I envision her crossing through the door of Heaven and falling into the arms of God. What beauty must await her and all of us, His faithful.

A Prayerful Walk By The Sea

Heavenly Father, I asked myself what it was about today that I didn’t want to forget, and in your infinite kindness you have provided me many, many blessings and memories.

Please help me not to forget the sound of your ocean as its ever present, but gentle foaming waves roll into shore.

Please help me not to forget the feel of the softness of the sand and the lapping of the waves as they dance across my feet.

Please help me not to forget the sounds of your living creatures as they grace the land that we walk upon, the waters we touch, and the air that we breathe. If I listen carefully, it is almost as though they are speaking to my soul of their beautiful homeland.

Please help me not to forge the smell of the salt air as it brushes against my face. I wonder if this could be the brush of angel wings?

Please help me not to forget the treasures of your sea that are washed ashore. These are precious reminders of your living creatures and the abundance of your kindness of the sea. Please help mankind to always be mindful of these creatures and to realize the wondrous balance they lend to this universe.

Please help me not to forget the precious gift of friendship and the kindred spirits that are renewed, strengthened, and become one by the seaside. This surely is one of your greatest and most powerful gifts.

Please help me not to forget the kindness of  your  giving in allowing me, your humble servant, to be witness to your beautiful  kingdom by the sea.

Dear God, if I may but ask for one more blessing, it is that when the time may come when I am no longer able to experience this beautiful kingdom in body, that through your grace and divine spirit, you will allow me the privilege to remember and feel the memories of  your kingdom by the sea, deep within my forever grateful soul.

                                                                                                            Amen