A Symbolic Father's Day

   Low tide at the beach this morning.

   Parking lot at Gould's Inlet empty of cars. Maybe it was too early on a Sunday morning for people to be roused from bed. After all there was still 45 minutes till the expected sunrise.

   The beach and sandbar were empty as far as I could tell.

   It was a perfect time for reflection, thinking and prayer...just the way it should be.

   Looking down as I walked along the edge of the ocean, that part that is usually covered by water, I spotted a partial sand dollar in the sand.

   Broken in half..

   A perfect symbol for a life looking for its missing piece.

   When I had arrived at the beach and gotten out of the car, a bench was waiting its first customers of the new day.

   Another symbol of life right in front of me. A great spot to watch the day begin, if only you had someone to watch it with you.

   My world has not gone away. The sun still comes up in the morning.

   Last night the clouds had obscured any sunset that we might have had. Sorta like I feel at times with my somewhat empty world.

   But this morning it was still there, in all of its color and glory.

 

The sun comes up

It's a new day dawning

And God is still in control.

Thank Goodness

God Giveth Gifts...And Gifts...And Gifts...

   Has it only been two weeks? Just fourteen long days?

   On May 24, 2018, my fun-loving, adventurous wife of 60 years, passed from this life to Heaven.

   Seven days later her birthday came up on the calendar, May 31, when she would have reached the age of 82, having been God's gift to me for most of that time.

   Seven days after that, June 7, another calendar event rolled in. It would have been our 60th wedding anniversary. A bittersweet day where the only thing I could do to signify this was to lift my hand up to heaven, to somehow, symbolically anyway, grasp her hand and thank God for that gift of love.

   If you take the 60 years that we were married, and add to that the 6 years that we dated before marriage, you realize that for 66 years out of her (and mine) life of 82 years, almost all of our lives we had been together. That is a unique gift, one not given many times in our generation.

   But she has passed from this earth.

   Her sorrows and trials have ended here.

   She is with her mother, her friends, her extended family, others that she had only read about, and all those that had chosen the gift that God had offered through His Son Jesus.

   But what about those of us who mourn her passing?

   Did her passing take all God's gifts away when she left?

   I am realizing that God is still in the gift-giving business.

   Her passing still brings tears to my eyes, even as I write these words weeks later.

   But other tears seem to mingle with those. Tears of gratitude, not only for the years that we had together,  but for how God has responded with other people who have tried, and succeeded in stepping into the void of my life.

   I just never knew how the gifts of friendship and love can ease the pain and give hope for the future. Yes, I knew that these gifts were available, but when you are the recipient, you just feel it more intimately.

   When people see you coming, they step out of what they were doing, and greet you with concern and love.

   When people are willing to spend time on a phone call to just listen and show their love through the sound of their voice.

   When people, God's gifts to me, have responded with the words, "I Know", there is a feeling of a future that still lies out there for me here on this earth.

   So when God sees fit to physically remove one of His Gifts from my earthly life, He seems to provide more. He sends Hope and Comfort in the form and words of others.

   It is too early for me to really see all the Gifts that God has and will put in my earthly path, but I have caught a glimpse these last few days.

   There is still a life to be lived for Him in whatever time I will be given. I get a sense of other Gifts that may lie out there, simply through the words and actions of others.

   I may feel bad at times now, but I have gratitude for God's unspeakable gifts that have accumulated in my life, and I look forward to those that He has planned for the rest of my life.

   Keep those calls, and texts, and love coming my way. They all show that God may not be through with me yet, and that there are more gifts waiting to be experienced.

   I am blessed, even in sadness.

   Thank you, Honey

   And I am pretty sure that God is still in the Gift Giving Business...

   Amen

Since Last I Wrote, The World Has Changed

   It is amazing how the world, and my view of it has changed since my last post. What a difference a few days make..

   On May 27, my wife took a drastic turn for the worst. She could not swallow, and therefore could not eat or drink. She was not hurting, but just did not want to do anything but sleep, which she did pretty much non-stop.

   The Hospice nurse had told me the Friday before that she felt like the end might come in two or three weeks, but when she came on Tuesday, she told me Mayre's pace of decline had quickened and , then on her next visit on Thursday, lowered her estimate to two days or maybe even two hours. In other words it was imminent.

   Thursday the 30th had dawned bright and clear. I woke up early and, for some reason, thought I should do some work on an obituary. So I went out on the back porch, in the cool and quiet, and did just that. Dwayne was coming that day, and I looked forward too his visit and company. It was to be a traumatic time for him also. 

   In the afternoon, neighbors began to come in to check, and our pastor came also. The Chaplain for the Hospice group paid a visit, and there were several people around. Mayre's breathing became labored, and she was given some meds to ease the restrictions in her respiration.

   Dwayne arrived around 5pm, not knowing the situation had gone down. We gathered around her bedside as the pastor prayed for her and, talking to her directly, gave her permission to go. We all agreed with this, and she began to settle down.

   Then began a steady decline with the pulse and heart rate and breathing. She was at peace and not struggling.

   The at 7:10 she eased on out, and began her new life in Heaven.

   It was a sad time for us, but a relief also, as she was at peace and could leave the struggles behind. We knew when she was, and were glad for her.

   We took the body to Chattanooga and had a visitation and burial for her on Wednesday the 30th. All the family was there, with the exception of one grandson who was out in San Francisco and just could not do it. Old friends came, and it was a sweet time of remembering her life.

   My special thanks go to our friends, Larry and Linda Williams, who let me stay with them while we arranged the details. Larry was our pastor at Ooltewah, and he led the burial service.

   My kids began to scatter, Dwayne and Karen and Sydney back to Charlotte, Donna, Noel, Archer and Cady Gray back to Conway, AR, and Doug, Dawn, Drew, Caroline, Lucy, Laken and David back to Blacksburg.

   Thursday was my wife's birthday, and, in celebration of this, I left, too. I was going to Blacksburg to be with Doug and family for a few days before braving the empty condo on St. Simons.

   Deciding to make a day of the trip, I took the longer route up Highway 58 before completing the trip on the Interstates up to VA. Thinking to spice up the trip somewhat, I decided to do a couple of Tennessee courthouses, one in Decatur and one in Kingston.

   Those stops were not the diversion I thought. I missed my traveling companion and fellow courthouse seeker. We had taken three years to complete the 159 courthouses in Georgia, and this was definitely not the same. The car was too quiet, and the courthouses not as exciting.

   Not as I sit here in Blacksburg and think back about the week that was, I am grateful for God's presence and direction in all that went on. 

   You all know that there was this storm, Alberto, moving toward and around us. We had rain on Sunday night, all day Monday, a lot on Tuesday and some on Wednesday morning. On the afternoon, he stayed away, and everything went off as planned.

   Thank You, God...

   As I look toward these coming days, I realize that another special day is upcoming. I plan to start going home on Tuesday, stop in Charlotte to spend the night with Dwayne and Karen, then drive on down to the Island on Wednesday. 

   Thursday will (or would have been) our 60th wedding anniversary. That could be a hard day, too.

   You could pray for our family also. They all bear the pain of separation. We have bonded together over this, and in that it has been good.

   God knows the path we will trod, and He has promised to go it with us.

   We know it will be hard at times, but it will have an end. There will be strength to go on even when we do not particularly want to. We will.

   As per usual, a couple of shots:

   

Doug, Donna and Dwayne

and

My Beautiful Wife

Praise for a Life Well Lived and a Tremendous Blessing to Others

Requiem for a Lifestyle

   When we moved from Chattanooga to St. Simons in 1995, we looked for a residence that was close to a golf course, and ideally right on one of the holes. We did not even want the course to. be separated from us by a lake, a road or a fence. We were picky..

   We found a great location, a home located on the 4th fairway of the Sea Palms West Course. Sea Palms is a 27 hole layout, with the West Course being the one separated from the other two nines by a major road. There was less play on the West, since the resort proper was located inside the other 18 holes, and thereby easier to just walk out the door and play.

   The first 10 years that we lived in that house I must have played those nine holes a couple of thousand times. It was great.

   When we came back from our three year sojourn in Virginia, we bought a condo adjacent, but not directly on the course. Again, walk out the condo garage, go across the street, begin on No. 5 and play around to No. 1, then keep going and finish on No. 4.

   Anytime family came, we could go out and hit a few. No worry about crowds. We could play 3 holes or 9, no matter. Supposedly we had to let carts from the other side play through, but there were very few of those.

   With water hazards on 8 of the 9 holes, we had an abundance of wildlife. Gators, turtles, herons, egrets, osprey, even owls. Deer tracks were numerous in the mornings in the traps.

   Then things began to change: The resort put their money into the other side, and the West suffered. Weeds grew up around the ponds, the sand traps were not kept up, the red-headed stepchild was forgotten for the most part.

   Then the word come out this year. Sea Palms was planning on abandoning the West Course. Their work schedule had showed their intention, but they made it official. They left the flags in the holes, and the tee boxes still sported markers for the different level of golfers. However, I imagine they will all be gone soon.

   Those of you who play golf and have to get in your car, drive to the course (sometimes miles away), have a tee time, put together a group to play, just can't know how nice it can be to:

   1.Decide to play a few holes...

   2. Walk down in the garage and get your clubs out of your cage...

   3. Walk across the street to a tee box...

   4. Play 3 holes or 9, whichever you have time for...

   5. Or just practice on the nearest green for a few minutes...

   6. If you happen to have a friend who lives in the same complex, and is willing to go anytime, that is even better...

   In short, it is what we referred to as "Paradise with a small p", and that set-up will be missed. It was a good lifestyle for golfers, maybe not so good for wives.

   Now we can still walk where the cart paths ran, we can hit balls out of the old fairway, and even try to putt on the old greens, but we moan all the way.

  What will happen to our "playground" we don't know yet, l but we will miss it, and we won't look forward to any development going in.

   Perhaps it might be turned into a park of sorts, or at least a green space with walking trails, but, alas, I fear land is too valuable here for that sort of amenity.

   I've had a twenty-year run of this kind of golf set-up, and I'm pleased it ran so long.

   But, if I ever get back to playing, I will sure miss it.

   Blessed for sure...

Hot Dog..A Visit

   When you don't get out too much, you miss the interactions with other folks. If they are not around where you live, or don't make a special trip to see you, they just don't show up in your life. Emails are no substitute, and even FaceTime or cell phones lack the personal touch of sitting down on a porch and just talking, laughing and reminiscing.

   That is true of family also, when the closest child is 5 or 6 hours away, and the farthest one a couple of days out there.

   That is why visits from from friends are always welcome.

   Yesterday, we had one…

   Bob and Brenda Cain have been friends from way back in the 70s in Chattanooga. Although they were younger than us, we shared many interests, and we had boys the same age. Doug, our third and Brent, their first, were in school together, and we were all in the same church.

   Bob and I played softball on the church squad, and later on we rode bikes together on some higher milage trips. We even rode Damascus, VA to Berea, KY on a multiple day trip with our wives driving the support vehicle.

      Even though they now live in Watkinsville, GA, near Athens, they were on vacation for a few days in north Florida and stopped on their way home yesterday to pay a call, even bringing some key lime pie to share.

   Of course we talked of all the mutual friends we had, especially those in the church home we shared for a bunch of years. We talked of the youth that Bob had worked with, and those that had interacted with our three kids over that time period.

   We spent a lot of time catching up on kids, all of them in both families, I think, now older than we adults were back when we palled around together.

   It was good to spend a couple of hours just remembering those good times.

   And I promise to write only good things about any of you out there who can still get on the road and visit St. Simons. Might even let you partake of my killer meat loaf if you stay overnight.

   The door is open for you.

   Come on, and maybe Bob and I will let you in on our next cycling adventure.

   We'd love to see more of you. Anytime...

Could Have Been A Tragedy, But...

   Over last weekend, Mayre and I had several conversations about our relationship with hospice care. She was not happy about the nurse visits and the invasion of privacy in her life. She continues to believe at times that she can do more than is actually possible. I sympathize with her, but know what she is able to do.

   All of this has led to some conflict in our lives and has tended to keep the caregiver stressed to some degree. It is hard to go against the wishes of one you love and yet continue to push for added care for her life (and mine too, actually).

   So we began this current week in a state of flux, in our conversations, and in my attempt to care for her.

   Then a new, what I choose to call, a tragedy came our way.

   Tuesday evening while getting her dressed for bed, I felt a sudden hurt in my lower abdomen. Again while I tried to get her in bed, it happened with more intensity. I figured I had done something wrong as I worked with her, and I could rest in the night and it would be gone by morning, or at least abated.

   But as I got up with her during the night, it was still there as I moved her around.

   Waking up in the morning, I dressed and walked next door to our neighbor (a nurse) and told her my problem. I did not feel I could get my wife out of bed and into the day without some help. She came over, and we accomplished the job, but she and I both knew I was going to have to see about this problem soon. The caregiver could not go down without a major impact on our arrangement of home care.

   As Joan (the next door neighbor nurse) and I stood and talked outside the condo door on the landing, the first of several miracles (spelled with a small "m") occurred. Down the landing, heading for her condo came our neighbor on the north side. Now she also has nurses training, and, after explaining why we were outside the condo, she said she did not have anything to do all day, and would be glad to help out in any way. This was good because Joan and her husband had their two small grandchildren staying with them, and that was a full time job for them.

   Leigh Ann, my second nurse of the day) would stay with Mayre when I left to go to my dermatology appt. to have some stitches taken out of a spot on my back where he had removed a basil cell.

   This was proving to be an interesting and eventful day indeed.

   During the morning, and after blessing my body with some food and Advil, I worked around with Mayre.

   And I called our Hospice Nurse, Kati, relating the situation to her for any advice from that front. She said I definitely needed to see about myself, telling me that she would be on call for us anytime she was needed her at the condo.

   Leigh Ann came at noon, the Advil had abated the pain, and I was functioning pretty well, so off I went to the dermatology appt. scheduled for 1pm.

   Getting to the doctor's office at ten till one, I checked in and sat down to wait. There in that place, the second of the miracles occurred. I was the only one in the office, and was back in my car after getting the stitches out by ten after one.

   Having had such a quick turnaround in completing the stitches removal, I decided to run by the wellness clinic (intermediate care) facility on the island, run by the hospital in Brunswick.

   Another miracle: I walked into the clinic. There was no one in the waiting room. After filling out the always-present paperwork, they called me back immediately. As the nurse took the vital signs and left the room, he said the doctor would be in in just a few minutes.

   About a minute or two later in walked Dr. Snow.

   Completing his examination, he said there was no major tear, but that I had probably pulled a muscle. That was good news. I did not need hernia surgery just at that time.

   In the time between 8am and 2pm that Wednesday, I had received the help of two nurses (plus Kati on the phone) and seen two doctors, having gotten a good report on the area on my back and the pain in my front.

   What was Mayre doing all this time?

   Two things really, at least in her mind. A feeling that she was responsible for my pain, and a knowledge that we did indeed need help.

   That was a breakthrough of sorts anyway.

   She welcomed the Hospice Nurse, Kati, when she made her visit on Thursday, and very willingly submitted herself to advice on getting stronger so she could function better on her own. She even smiled with her and told her thanks for helping care for her.

   This change of attitude made all of us feel better.

   I don't know how this will all work out, but I do feel that God put these folks in our lives at the right time, as they all gave their time to care for both of us and help us on the road that we are traveling.

    Could have been a painful disaster, but turned out to be what looks like a light for our way.

   Tune in again and see.

   PS: I should apologize for making all my recent blogs about caregiving, but it is what it is, and that is most everything I have on my mind right now.

   PS2: In June this year we will celebrate our 60th..we hope to make it a good one.

Why Can't This Be The Norm in Public Life?

   Sunday in the Golden Isles was not the typical "Chamber of Commerce" day. Overcast, sprinkles and definitely a "stay at home day". We did, but the day was not wasted, The Masters final round was there on the tube.



   As the pundits opened the telecast, four guys who know golf, sitting around a table talking about what they think will happen in that final round. All four agree that Rory McIlroy is their favorite to overcome the lead of Patrick Reed and take home the green jacket. We all know what happened to those projections.

   I watched most of the 5 hour telecast, to the end, and the end is what I want to talk about.

   I watched as Rory did not close the gap, indeed it widened, and he was out of contention He just never could get started.

   I watched as Jordan Spieth made a heroic charge, making up 9 shots on Reed, and even going even with him for a few minutes, before missing the last hole and finishing two back.

   I watched as Ricky Fowler slowly crept to within one shot of the lead and finished as the runner up to Reed.

   And I watched as Patrick Reed did just enough to overcome these and other challenges to win his first major golf title. That is not to downgrade his play. It is not easy to keep the lead with everyone else gunning for you. He made some big shots down the stretch to stay ahead of the field.

   But the memory for me was after the final putt had dropped on 18:

   As Reed was walking back to the scorers desk to sign his card, there was Ricky Fowler waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a big smile. There was genuine respect for the job Patrick had done for that 4 day tournament.

   Then there was Bubba Watson, a two-time Masters champion who had challenged and finished tied for 5th.

   I'm sure there were others, but I did not stay tuned for the final awards ceremony.

   The respect those golfers, ones who had tried hard to win themselves and fallen short, had for the winner was evident. Their faces and body language showed to me that this congratulatory outpouring was for real. They were happy for Patrick.



   I thought about what I see a lot of times on the TV, especially the news. Shouting at one another and a complete lack of civility seems the way of the whole world.

   I don't know the private lives of all these pro golfers, But I certainly do like the way they act toward each other in their public life on the course.

   Could we get them to teach the rest of us what respect and sincerity look like?

   How refreshing would that be on the evening news?