Monday, June 22, 2009

Window Project Mosaic

I'm not all about creating pretty mosaics, just so you'll know. ;> But all is not lost as you can find some gorgeous ones at Mary's Mosaic Monday.

John worked all Saturday on our little window project and all he got for it was this homemade pizza for lunch. I used the recipe posted at Little Birdie Secrets.

A big thank you to Dawn at The Feathered Nest for all the beautiful images used to make this project and for the idea in the first place.

Enjoy a wonderful week!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

One Thing I've Discovered

One thing I've discovered is that the longer one stays away from blogging the easier it becomes. That can't be a good thing! So in a purposeful effort to stay connected, even a little bit, I'm going to post weekly. Maybe.

So many of you have reminded me to take care of myself and John and to do something fun from time to time. I am not certain why I find this so difficult, especially when it's the very advice that I might give to someone in similar circumstances. Perhaps it is this: It feels as if it is a betrayal to those who are unable to do "something fun." But thinking that is a lie since both my mother and grandmother have continued to enjoy their lives even while in Rehab. So I attempt to nip that wrong thinking and focus on "something fun" for John and myself like an evening off to the lake to watch folks hit golf balls down the driving range and to partake of the best onion rings in the state.

Doesn't he look intent?! :D

After that, we are not ready to head home so soon. A stop at Giffords is definitely in order and John splurges, yet again, on one of their banana splits while I enjoy my favorite Caramel Caribou cone.

Still not ready to return home, we strike off for one of our favorite spots. Since the sunset is not cooperating quite as well as we'd hoped, I settle for taking a photo of Sebago Lake, stacks of wood being readied for next winter, and a Tufted Titmouse.

Wonder what the plural of titmouse is? Titmice? Titmouses?

Enjoy this beautiful day, Dear Ones!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Thank You for Praying and Thinking of Us

Before anything else, I want to thank you for your prayers and encouragements. I've received such supportive comments, emails, and letters. They are very much appreciated. Indeed, sometimes a fellow blogger offered such insight that I was able to use the information shared to better help and protect my family.

Sometimes Real Life and Blogland walk along harmoniously, but in my world Real Life has become something of the proverbial "train wreck." For that reason, until things calm down again, I am taking a extended break from blogging. I have even considered tiptoeing gently away forever because I simply no longer have the time for blogging or for visiting, which is by far the thing I most miss.

I will share an upbeat thing with you today and then some fine day, when you least expect it, I'll catch you again I hope. Nan, my grandmother, was coming to live with John and me for a season when last we chatted. We still hope for that, but she was hospitalized with a fracture in her back that radiated such pain that for several days she was misdiagnosed with a pancreatitis attack. After five days or so of being in the hospital and having to say goodbye to my mother who was herself heading off to the hospital for cancer surgery, my grandmother was transferred to a nursing home.

It may be that there are wonderful nursing homes, but the one where my grandmother stayed had both John and me concerned. There was a lack of staff and the facility was not clean. My grandmother suffered through over a week of that. Sometimes we were there three times a day just checking. I'm sure that the staff became very weary of our actually taking them up on their 24-hour-a-day policy. There were some wonderful people there, but all it takes is one bad nurse or CNA to negate it all. Nan kept going by looking at my mother's picture above. (I think my mom was about my age now when that photo was taken. Noooo, not the baby picture. Gheesh, you guys are a tough crowd. ;> )

In the meantime, my mother was enduring her own struggles and it soon became apparent that she would be unable to go home without further care and assistance. She was released from the hospital and admitted to a rehabilitation center. She had been there a few days when they told her that there was an open bed if she would like my grandmother to go there. Oh yes, she would. Oh yes, Nan would love to go. Oh happy day. Until...

Friday found us at the car with everything packed and Nan in her wheelchair ready to get in. We heard a call, "Wait!" Apparently, the nursing facility had hit a snag and didn't feel able to deal with my grandmother's needs over the weekend. Unbelievable! I felt my heart sink and a cloud descended over my grandmother that we could actually see. The Word of God says that "hope deferred makes the heart sick." Oh so true.

By Saturday, Nan had been returned to the hospital because her right side was weak. My sister went to be with her while John and I handled yet another family fire. The doctors couldn't find a thing wrong with her and though my sister practically begged them to hold onto Nan over the weekend knowing that she'd be transported to the new facility on Monday, she was released back to the nursing facilty from whence she'd come. Ackkk...

We encouraged Nan to be ready for, get lots of rest, keep her spirits up because then she'd be reunited with my mother. She smiled at us weakly. Her vocabulary dwindled to nearly nothing. Her eyes didn't sparkle anymore. We worry. We pray. John prays for her every time we leave and she thanks him with a tear.

Yesterday morning I made a call to the receiving nursing facility...everything was a go. I called the releasing nursing facility...problems. My grandmother would be evaluated before they could release her and since she appeared to be "unstable" it didn't look good. When I got off the phone, I think I must've looked like a wild woman. My one mission in life was to get two of the dearest women in all the world to me back together again. John was so supportive and he began immediately to pray. Calmness descended and clarity reigned.

I knew exactly what I would say and do with firmness and kindness: Yes, Nan would be leaving their facility. In fact, we would be leaving at 11 sharp. I had already signed release papers on Friday, there'd be no need to sign again. No, she would not be transported by ambulance. We could make her very comfortable in the car. Lots of sweetness and thank yous (even if I didn't feel so much like being sweet nor saying "thank you.")

So we left before 11 am. We drove the 15 miles to the new facility under clear blue skies and bright sunshine. Nan commented on the vividness of the dandelions, the beauty of the lupines, and the fading of the rhododendrons.

Fast forward to her being settled in her room. Lunch had arrived and the nurse was helping her with that. When the nurse stepped aside, there was my mother standing with her walker wearing a big smile. As recognition dawned on my grandmother, her face began to glow and she lifted her arms to gather my mom in. John started to cry. I was crying. It was worth it all for that golden moment.

The last thing I told my grandmother yesterday was that I was taking the first break in a few weeks today. She said, "Why? What are you doing tomorrow?" Cracked us up!

You take care of yourselves and create a wonderful day...

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Unfailing Love

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I lift up my soul. -Psalm 143:8

Some nights are so long, but His unfailing love is always with us. Have a blessed day...

Photo Source

Friday, May 29, 2009


Thank you all for praying yesterday. My mother was in surgery for over eight hours and was in the recovery room for over three. I hope that, as we come to mind, you'll continue to pray; we're going to need lots of prayers.

About the "incommunicado." I've been thinking about stress a lot. Many of the stressing things are beyond my ability to change; however, I can and am changing my internet service provider and my telephone service. It is being cancelled today. My new provider will be up and at'em by June 3rd or 4th so I will catch you all on the flip side. There's one post in the can, but that's all until later.

Take care, Dear Ones...

(Image removed for lack of a source)

Thursday, May 28, 2009


One of my favorite words is abide. We are abiding today...resting, praying, believing, trusting, and hoping, too.

This little quote has brought much comfort in the past few days...

Although it seems safe and logical to be in charge of your life, being in charge becomes a heavy, lonely responsibility. Your Father graciously offers to take your life, protect you, strengthen you, and comfort you on your journey. You need not fear relinquishment, for it leads to freedom, security, and the real you. ~Cynthia Heald

Doesn't Cynthia have a great surname? ;>

Somehow abiding on a rainy day seems more cozy. Perhaps I'll bake.

Create yourself a wonderful day...

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Flea Market Finds...Again

In spite of the weekend's busyness, we still did our flea market rounds adding a new one to the mix. Sadly, the "new" one is going out of business as even the flea markets feel the pinch of the times. Our state levies particularly heavy taxes on businesses and many are not able to hold on. (I won't launch into political commentary here, but I could and how.)

So we found two very large BALL jars (I'll be using them in the sewing room), another teacup and saucer, vintage hankies, two doilies, and this wonderful old frame! I'm in love with that vintage frame made of cherry. Shhhh, don't tell John.

This is what I'm going to do with the frame:

photo courtesy of Dawn at The Feathered Nest

If you do a search of "old window project" at Dawn's, you'll come up with all the posts referrring to this project.

Oh, the first photo was taken in the corner where I will hang the project below the clock and where the branches will provide a natural veiling of sorts. I hope it turns out well, but either way, I'll show you.

In the same way that I missed Mosaic Monday with Mary, I have been missing out on "Thrifty Treasures" at Southern Hospitality. Hope that I may connect one of these days. You may visit Rhoda right

Wednesday...enjoy it!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Tuesday Troubles

I missed Mary's Mosaic Monday yesterday, but I finally learned how to do a very simple mosaic using Flickr and Big Huge Labs. You can find all that information right at Mary's as she's been so good to share. Perhaps by next week, I'll have taken another babystep. ( *Here* is one of the loveliest mosics I've seen lately.)

Has all of Blogdom gone a bit whacked or does it just feel that way? Everywhere I go visiting blogs I am having trouble. I'm not the only one. One suggests that it's a problem with the followers gadget, another that it is a problem with counters, another that it happens when a blog has too many graphics. I don't know. This I do know: things like this get my knickers in a knot. I know what you're saying out there... "Vee, just chill." ;D

And I really do have bigger things on my plate. My grandmother was supposed to have moved in with us on Saturday except that she has been in the hospital since Friday and it doesn't look as if she'll be ready to come home for a few more days. I told her last evening that she could officially now consider herself in a race with my mother, who'll be in the hospital soon, to see which of them arrives home first. It's going to be interesting to see which hospital I land at on any given day. (They're forty miles from each other.)

So, once again, if you don't see me around, you'll know where I am. Take care now and have a wonderful Tuesday...

Monday, May 25, 2009

Memorial Day Scenes About Town

Library Reflection

Red Azaleas in My Garden

Flags Wave on Main Street

Flag Flies Over "the Ponderosa"

Civil War Monument in the Town Square

Soldiers Row in the Local Cemetery

The Conclusion

by J. A. Williams

In Flanders field the poppies bloom

Above your lowly, hallowed tomb.

That your brave deeds shall never die

The torch of freedom lifted high

Shall shine forever where you lie.

No more in Flanders fields will grow

The crosses, endless row on row,

For crushed and conquered lies the foe.

We kept the faith—We've seen it thru,

Our myriad brave lie dead with you

In Flanders fields.

Sweet be your rest! Our task is done;

The tramp of armies, boom of gun

And furious cry of savage Hun

Are silent now. The victory's won!

Peace to your souls! The victory's won

In Flanders fields.

This poem was written during the Peace Conference in 1919. It is the fourth poem to be written in response to John D. McCrae's In Flanders Fields. Some day we will see an end to wars. This poem looks forward to that ultimate day when wars will end and no more will die. Amen!

With heartfelt gratitude for every sacrifice made to keep us free. Thank you.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Behind the Scenes

Ahhh, so you've found it. What have you found? The spot where I am tucking many of the behind-the-scenes events, which I feel have a place on my blog even if they should not be front and center. The comments are off in this place and this post will expand as I add to it from time to time.

Mother is currently residing in a Rehab Center where she grows stronger daily. She has recently been hospitalized for cellulitis in her right leg. After five days, she was released last Monday, June 15. (Yes, one thing you'll discover is that the dates may be whacky since I am placing this behind the scenes post on an earlier date.)

Update: June 19, 2009

The report from the oncologist yesterday was grim. This cancer is particularly rare (only a thousand women in the world will get it in any given year) and it's particularly aggressive. There was good news, too, it's only spread in two places. Chemotherapy begins in approximately one month depending upon the results of a CAT scan. My mother will be released from the Rehab facility to my sister's care at the end of June. One day at a time...

Update: July 2, 2009

Because of a bout with cellulitis in her leg, my mom's release date has been set back to July 15 or 16. (My grandmother's has as well.) So there they sit, albeit quite happily, in Rehab getting stronger and hanging out together. I visit them every other day for several hours at a time. They have had lots of company, for which I am grateful. It certainly helps to pass the time.

Update: August 3, 2009

Mother has tolerated the chemotherapy last Thursday very well. We are all praising God for His goodness in this and thanking everyone who lifted her in prayer. She knows that she is being carried on prayer...says she can just feel it. God bless you all!

Update: August 23, 2009

Mother has completed her radiation therapy without too much difficulty. We are so grateful that that is behind her now. She had her second chemotherapy, which thus far has not given her too much trouble either. She has medication for both weariness and pain, but doesn't have to use it more than a couple of days following treatment. She did lose all of her beautiful white hair. My grandson upon seeing her said, "You had a bad haircut, Grandma." She asked him if she could borrow his baseball cap and he said, "Sure." That's all that she's using for right now...a baseball cap as she fears anything else would be too uncomfortable.

Update: October 7, 2009

So much has happened making describing it a real challenge. A week ago, we were planning hospice care and a funeral. Today, the world is ever so much brighter.

My mother finished her third chemotherapy and became intensely ill. She was taken to Portland where she has been hospitalized for three weeks. She was placed on massive amounts of antibiotics to fight infection. Her doctors told us to prepare for end-of-life. At one point in the first week, the doctor thought of doing surgery but decided against it saying that my mother's intestines would "disintegrate" in his hands. By the second week, fearing that the cancer would "blow through" the abdominal wall, he was now recommending surgery. She had that surgery a week ago.

Though we were told that there was a large cancerous mass on her left side and that her intestines would be coated with a frosting of cancer, the doctors found none of that. Instead they found a hole in her bowel, which is now in the process of healing. All biopsies came back clean. The doctor never says "healed;" nevertheless, we are rejoicing today. I can't think about it without becoming amazed all over again. My mother is expecting to be released back to Rehab this week...the same home that she went to to recover from her earlier surgery in May.

December 18, 2009

Mother was finally released from the nursing facility this week and is happily staying with my sister. We were delighted to all be together for a chicken dinner one evening this week where my mother declared how tasty the food was just because it was so nice and hot ... a rare commodity in her recent world. She has lost a lot of weight, but is happy and doing better all the time. We continue to praise God.

April 29, 2010

Last October, my mother was given a second lease on life. Because of infection in her system, she was given an ileostomy. Unlike a colostomy, an ileostomy is an opening in the small intestine for waste. I'm not going to go into the details, but suffice it to say that it is not something anyone should have to endure. My mother never tolerated hers well, which was why she was on hydration and nutrition therapy. In addition, the opening never properly healed and it was quite painful.

Yesterday, the entire process was reversed. Because of the length of time in surgery, my sister believed that our mom was having a colostomy performed. It had been explained that if the surgeon couldn't reconnect easily, he would do a colostomy. (It is preferable by far to an ileostomy.) So my sister and I were very pleased when we learned that he had been able to reconnect...with great difficulty because of adhesions and mesh material used for a former hernia repair that had become infected. Oh my! More medical stuff than some like to read. My daughter would be white as a sheet by now and quaking. Anyway, we are more than thrilled for the return to "normal" and that this phase is behind her.

I've just been able to talk to Mom via the phone and she sounds tired and in pain and hoarse. So any and all prayers are always welcome. Thank you!

May 7, 2010

Mother called yesterday from my sister's home. She's been home since Wednesday so that was just a week in the hospital. We were getting concerned that the time would be longer because of those complications during surgery. As it turns out, my mom can be most forceful. She wanted to go home, straight home, no rehab, no delay, home. She wanted to tell me that she had just spoken with her doctor and all the tests came back negative — no cancer. The doctor does not say "healed" nor does he say "remission." Just that everything is all clear. I told my mother that I was delighted to hear it, but not surprised to hear it. When God does something; He does it all the way. Now it's hers to hang onto. There are challenges ahead, but we shall cross those bridges as we come to them. As always, thank you for praying!

May 8, 2010

Mom looking lovely at our Mother's Day Tea

January 3, 2010 2011

Love this photo taken of my daughter and my mother on
Christmas Day. I can't believe how much alike they look...perhaps it's the weariness for both were very busy over the holidays...

Mother learned the week that my grandmother passed away back in November that tests revealed troubles. The cancer was back. We had gone to Portland in late October for her regular check up with the oncologist. She was feeling fine...still is for the most part. The doctor said that she was doing great and everything looked good. Then she told him that she was having some lower back pain. He decided, hoping to give her peace of mind, to order a CAT scan. This was followed by a PET scan. Both revealed the same story. She has been having lots of medical appointments all culminating this week with a new oncologist (working in tandem with the main one), a port placement, and the first chemotherapy. Mother amazes me. I'd be a quivering mass under a table somewhere, but she carries on just as she always has done. Her greatest sorrow is not her health; it is my father.

January 19, 2011

Mother passed away on January 15, 2011 at a Hospice Home after having been rushed to the ER as the result of a fall. She had been sick with the flu the weekend before and had recovered. The oncologist had examined her and cleared her Thursday morning (1/13/11) to go ahead with her chemotherapy treatments. She did want Mother to have a flu shot, which I took her to have on Thursday afternoon.

Thursday was a good day as most days have been since learning that the cancer had returned. Some might find that surprising, but it is true. Mother had been feeling well and eating well and she'd kept busy. John had taken her in the morning for her doctor's appointment because the roads were still bad from Wednesday's storm. They had a wonderful conversation to and from with John telling her how much he thought of her and how she always had a home with us whenever she said the word. She would later thank him for taking her by giving him not one, but two Musketeer candy bars. We all enjoyed lunch together and then she and I went to get her the flu shot followed by an afternoon of shopping. She was doing very well. In fact, at some point I told her that I needed to take a break and she told me to go right ahead since I'd had such good shopping results and she had not.

Mother returned to her home with my niece and they had a pleasant supper together and a nice evening. She spoke to several people on the phone including my sister.

Around ten she began feeling poorly and later my niece called me to say that she didn't think things were quite right. I zipped on over and found mom feeling punky and saying that if she just went to bed and got some sleep that she'd be all right. She complained of a headache and **I gave her a couple of T*ylenols. We got her to bed and I told her that I'd be over first thing in the morning. She did not want me to call 911 although both K and I suggested it. The three of us were all blaming the flu shot and thinking that by morning Mother would feel much better.

The phone rang around 4:30 Friday morning; it was my niece saying that she had heard Molly barking and had rushed in to find her grandmother on the bedroom floor. Both John and I raced over and found her just as K had described. K had been unable to get her up (nor could we). Mother was feeling chilled and complaining about a bad headache and so we called 911.

We followed the ambulance in with my kicking myself for not remembering to grab some clothes, a coat, and shoes, etc., for Mother who would surely be booted out of the ER in a few hours' time. As my niece described it, "It's the 21st Century and everything is fixable."

Not this time. What the doctors discovered after a cat scan was a massive cerebral hemorrhage. They were clear and direct with my mother and Kirsten and me. There would be no coming back from this. She had from six hours to, in rare instances, a few days. Then mother's own doctor arrived. She asked my mother what she wanted and mother said, "I want to go to the Hospice House." We asked her who she wanted with her and she named each of her grandchildren and her pastors. My mother was calm and peaceful throughout all of this. She never expressed any regrets or sorrows; she neither wept nor complained. I called my sister and said simply, "Come home."

My sister lives seven hours away and time was of the essence. I will always measure that day by how far my sister had made it on her journey home. "Mom, they're on the ferry." "Mom, they're in Connecticut." "Mom, they're in South Boston." "Mom, they're in Kennebunk."

At two in the afternoon, the ER released her to Hospice Care and Mother and I made the ambulance ride with the others following in cars. We consider that hospice experience the last gift that she gave us. I can not recommend a hospice experience highly enough. No tubes, wires, bells or whistles. Comfort and blissful peace.

Surprisingly or perhaps not knowing my remarkable mother, she hung on with us, not really able to talk, but aware who was with her and responding with a "yes" or "no" about her pain levels for seven long hours until my sister arrived. When she arrived, my mother tried to lift her head, opened her eyes, and reached out her hand.

My sister (a nurse) and her husband stayed with my mother all night. John and I went home to get some rest as did all the grandchildren. In the morning, 4:30 again, we returned and spent the final hours with my mother telling her how much we loved her, how glad we were that she could go to a better place, how beautiful the morning was with the pink blush of the rising sun, yet how much more beautiful the day would be on the other side. We can only imagine.

(I refuse to reduce my mother's life to her final hours on earth. She was more, much more and so there is no doubt that I will talk about her again. Right now, I am still waking in the night weeping and saying over and over, "Oh, Mom. Oh, Mom." I look forward to the day when I will smile with every sweet memory of her.)

** As you might think, my niece and I have been doing a fair amount of kicking ourselves. However, the doctors all have told us that even if we could have somehow known that this was a massive brain bleed on that Thursday morning before there had been any indications, it would not have changed the results; the story would have ended the same way. My mother's own doctor came to the ER and told us repeatedly that this was a Godsend. We are trying to receive it that way. Trying.

(Comments here are always closed. This is a big part of my life, but not meant for front page discussion. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any and all prayers. God changes things.)